RattlingtheCage by Ann Cory Page A

in this town.

Chapter Nine
     
    Lawson stood at the door, one hand on the wall, shaking his
head. He deserved the slap. He’d take on anyone who bad-mouthed his family. Why
should she do any different? He also deserved to be standing there like an ass
at four in the morning. There’d been a reason why women weren’t written into
his plans. Women meant trouble. By veering from the plan, he’d asked for
trouble.
    Grumbling, he paced. He wanted to go shoot some rounds into
the night. Or drive like a maniac along the dirt roads. He was stuck in a
nothing town with nothing to do except think about a woman. The room smelled
like her—hell, he smelled like her. All bubble gum, bar and sex.
    Tired of pacing, he settled into the stiff armchair, head
back, and stared at the ceiling. So he’d said the wrong thing. He didn’t owe
her anything. Why should he be sorry?
    Lawson propped a foot on his knee, his lips pressed firm. He
should be happy she left. And pissed off too. Then she’d leave him alone for
good. The way he wanted.
    Bobbing his leg, he tried to picture the moment when he’d
confront Mitchum. To his irritation, the scenario came up blank. Instead he pictured
Montana. The way her eyes darkened to a deep emerald-green when he got her
riled up. And he’d done that a little too well.
    Guilt seeped into his conscience.
    “Damn you, Montana.”
    He clambered to his feet and headed outside. It occurred to
him that he didn’t have a clue where she lived. Seeing a light on in the diner,
he sprinted over and knocked on the window. Libby gestured to the door and met
him there dressed in a red housecoat, her dangly earrings swaying.
    “You’re a tad early, love. You must really like my cookin’.”
    “Sure do, but I’m here for another reason.”
    “I can see that.”
    “Pardon?”
    She nodded her chin at him. “Yer zipper, honey. To me that
says yer distracted. And other than you, there ain’t nuthin’ else to be
distracted by in this place than the lovely Miss Lee. Am I right?”
    Face heated, he turned away to fix the situation.
    “Uh, thanks. And yeah, I’m looking for Montana.”
    “She know yer comin’?”
    “She’ll probably tell me to get lost.”
    “Uh huh. Sweet girl. Grew up too fast. Tell you what. Since
I like you, I’ll tell you how to get to her house. But you best be a gentleman
with her, she ain’t had it easy.”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    * * * * *
    Montana’s anger reignited at the sight of Garvey’s car in
front of her trailer. Tired and sore from the long walk home, she blanched at
the thought of another interrogation.
    She tiptoed to the passenger side and peeked in, surprised
to find the car empty.
    Probably taking a leak.
    Before he noticed her home, she rushed inside and closed the
door. Eye to the peephole, she strained to see out. Nothing moved. Satisfied,
she flipped around and relaxed against the door.
    A flicker of gold drew her attention. Her body jolted as if
she’d tripped a wire. A garbled scream tumbled between her gut and throat.
Still wearing his badge, Garvey sat slouched on the sofa with his boots propped
up on the coffee table.
    Hand to her chest, she shot arrows of fury with her glare.
    “Jesus, Garvey, what the hell are you doing here?”
    He shrugged. “Sheriff’s orders.”
    The still air inside the trailer made her mind sluggish. She
inhaled and exhaled slowly, waiting for her breath to regulate. Other than a
crushed beer can on the floor, nothing looked out of place.
    Arms crossed, she asked, “You have nothing better to do than
snoop around my house?”
    Garvey clicked his tongue. “Ah hell, Montana, you know
better than that.”
    “Do I? How’d you get inside?”
    “The door was unlocked. I was worried.”
    Her arms fell to her sides, slapping her legs. “Well, I’m
fine. Now get out. I’m exhausted.”
    He leaned forward but made no attempt to leave. “Where’ve
you been all night?”
    “The heat kept me up.” She wished he’d go. Her toes