Read Online Anna Finch and the Hired Gun by Kathleen Y'Barbo - Free Book Online Page A

idea. The entire city read his column.
    “Is that so?” she said. “Then you’ll be waiting a long time, for I’ve nothing to say.”
    “Of course you do.” He smiled. “So, about the Becks. A houseguest arrived via private rail car. What can you tell me?”
    “I’ve no idea what you’re asking,” she said. “Perhaps you should go to Mr. Beck with your concerns.”
    “I have, but he refuses to comment.”
    She shrugged. “As do I. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
    Anna darted around the column at the base of the stairs, but unfortunately so did Mr. Mitchell. With a shake of his head, he fell in step beside her.
    “Mrs. Beck spent a brief amount of time in the dining room with you. And she handed off a letter.”
    “Aren’t you informed?” Anna picked up her pace. “I suppose you know I also had business at the post office. I intend to write letters, and unless the rules have changed, the postal service requires stamps.” She gave him an exasperated look. “Am I wrong? After all, you seem to know everything that goes on in Denver. If there’s anything you miss, well, perish the thought.”
    There
. She felt slightly better, except Mr. Mitchell still kept up with her.
    He frowned. “There’s a story here, and I’m going to find it. If you helped me, I might consider it a personal favor.” He paused. “And you a personal friend and valued source. Have I mentioned I have a rule regarding personal friends and valued sources, little bird?”
    Little bird
. Looking straight ahead seemed the best and safest response. It also allowed Anna to see that the exit was not as far as it seemed.
    “Personal friends and valued sources rarely appear in my column, Miss Finch. I find that a conflict of interest.” The vile man chuckled. “Thus you might wish to attain that status. So, about this mysterious visitor. I’m told his trunks bore a royal crest, though not a single one of my sources could say what it looked like with any certainty.”
    Anna giggled. “Then perhaps you need a better quality of valued sources. Oh, and personal friends too.”
    “You’re quite funny, Miss Finch,” he said in a voice that held no humor. “I’m certain you must amuse yourself to no end on those long, lonely nights at home with your mother and father. And with that view of the Beck home out the window.”
    She ignored the jab with an effort worthy of Mae Winslow.
    “I fail to see why you protect him, considering in all the years you’ve been in love with him, he never looked twice at you.”
    “Of all the nerve.” Anna stopped short, blood pounding at her temples. “How dare you? I have overlooked all the awful things you’ve said about me in your wretched column. Until now.” She took a breath and let it out slowly, hoping it might give her time to rethink her feelings. It didn’t. “So,
Mr. Mitchell
, I will have an apology from you immediately or I will have to seek further recourse. I assure you, you will hear from my attorney before the end of the day.”
    She had no attorney, but likely Papa did. As angry as she felt, Anna would walk the length of Eighteenth Street until she found one.
    When Mitchell merely stared at her, she swallowed hard. That they stood in the very public Windsor Hotel lobby was not lost on Anna. But the fact that she had finally stood up to the horrible fellow who wounded her for sport felt exhilarating.
    Thus, she couldn’t help saying one last thing. “I see you’re not of a mind to make the apology I demand. Very well. I have a question of my own.”
    He looked amused. “And what might that be, Miss Finch?”
    “What part of England are you from again? I’ve traveled extensively on the Continent as well as in Great Britain, and I can’t quite seem to place your accent.”
    The color drained from his face, as did a good portion of his bravado. “Yes, well, we moved around quite a bit, my family and I.”
    “You’re not misrepresenting yourself to your readers, are you, Mr.