RattlingtheCage (10 page)

Chapter Twenty

Just after noon, Montana phoned Mitchum. She fought the
shakiness in her voice.

“I need your assistance at the bar.”

“What for?”

“I’m having a problem with one of the regulars.”

“Someone’s drunk already? You ain’t even been open an hour.”

“It’s Amos. He’s trashing the place.” She glanced at the
nail marks along the pool table and couldn’t help but smile. “He tore the felt
on the pool table. We can’t afford a new one. I’ve asked him to leave, but he
won’t listen.”

Amos sat at the bar with his head down, body slumped,
groaning. She’d purposely filled him with one too many drinks.

“Can you just come take care of him? Please?”

She waited, her heart thumping. Part of her wanted him to
say no.

“Yeah. I’ll be right over.”

“Sorry, Amos,” she said and patted the drunken man’s head.

Not even five minutes passed and Clint burst through the
door. He grabbed Amos by his shirt collar and yanked him off the stool. “I’m
putting a hold on your credit for a week,” he spat.

Too wasted to respond, Amos grinned like a child being
promised ice cream.

Clint pulled him through the bar and Montana heard him
shout, “Now get your ass home.”

Brushing his hands together, he came back inside and stopped
at the pool table. She couldn’t believe that he showed no remorse for Garvey’s
death. Acting as if it was another day. Nothing special. Nothing different.

“Damn shame about the table,” he said and raised his eyes to
meet hers. “He won’t give you any trouble.”

“Thanks.”

He turned to leave and she faltered.

“Wait.” She hurried over to the jukebox on toothpicks for
legs and punched a button. “That was great of you to help me like that.”

Clint shrugged. “Doing my job.”

Her stomach tightened. She had to make the monster stay.

Montana gestured to the jukebox. “What do you say?”

“’Bout what?”

“A dance with me.”

His brows slashed. “Why would I do something like that?”

“Can’t a girl dance with her daddy?”

His face mashed into an expression that looked as if it
involved every muscle in his face. “I suppose I could do that.”

“Good.” She placed her hands on either side of his waist and
let him do the same. His aftershave burned her throat.

His crazed smile unnerved her. “Never thought I’d see the
day when you knew you were mine and didn’t run away screaming. Especially after
what I did to you yesterday. It wasn’t personal, mind you.” He touched her
cheek with a crooked finger. “I needed to make a point. You understand. Don’t
you?”

Inside she crumbled, but she held it together. For Lawson.
For Lawson. She repeated it like a mantra, desperate to believe it and breathe
it and live it. “Of course. I’m glad to know that I have someone here. I’ve
always felt so alone.”

“We’ll get to know each other real well. Don’t you worry.”

The way he dragged his eyes over her body made her queasy.
Again she thought of Lawson and cracked a smile.

“You look like her, your mother. Great body. Long hair.
Brilliant smile that makes men cave.”

“Stop,” she said lightly. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He raised his hand to her horseshoe necklace and clasped it
between his fingers.

Breath tight, she willed her feet to keep moving. Her lungs
to keep working.

“I gave you this for your seventh birthday. Right before
your momma died.”

Her throat constricted. “You gave it to me?”

“Sure did.”

“But. I mean.” Her head went fuzzy—nothing in her life held
a thread of truth. “I thought she gave it to me.”

“Nah. She couldn’t afford to buy you anything. See, I was
trying to get her to take me back, but she refused. Looks like she wanted you
to have it anyhow.”

The necklace grew heavy around her neck. Its previous
sentiment faded. She felt owned by him. Like a slave.

In the next moment, Clint’s face got stony. “What the hell
are you up to, girl?”

Montana blinked fast. “What do you mean?”

“What’s going on here?”

He pushed her away and darted his head around. “You little
tramp.”

“What? I don’t understand. What’s the matter?”

“What are you doing? Why do I feel I’ve been set up?”

She wrung her hands and did her best to look offended. “I’m
trying to get to know you. I just want to know my fath-father.”

He slapped her cheek. Pain bloomed fast. “There’s another
thing that’s like your momma. Her face went all rose colored when she lied.
Just like yours.”

“I’m not…”

His hand rose to strike again, but he pivoted and booked out
of the bar.

She didn’t bother to stop him. Lawson would be out of her
house by now.

Soon Lawson would be out of her life.

Chapter Twenty-One

Lawson had spent hours inside Montana’s trailer searching
for the money. Inside drawers, beneath floorboards, behind furniture and
appliances, anywhere he figured a man might stash his life’s savings. The
harder he searched the more sure he was the money would turn up. Why the hell
else would Mitchum keep close tabs on Montana? He’d already spent a
considerable amount of time looking for holes outside and around the trailer,
but came up empty. It had to be inside.

He took his time searching her bedroom. His hands fell
across the skirt she’d worn the night at the bar. The one he’d hiked up to her
waist. Everything smelled like her. All feminine and sweet. It drove him crazy.

Lawson went back into the main room of the trailer. Hands on
hips, he grumbled under his breath. He’d checked underneath the sofa once and decided
to check again. He scooted the sofa away from the wall again and kicked at the
floorboards. Frustration raged through his body. Time ticked away. Time he
didn’t have.

He launched himself over the sofa and heard a thump.
Glancing back, he noticed two boards had come loose. He pulled the boards away
and several of the ones surrounding them. Cash boxes and bags filled the
spacious area. On his knees, he bent down and looked at the large hole. It
appeared Mitchum had created a hole in the bottom of the trailer that extended
underground with a chute to keep out the weather and elements.

Lawson opened one of the bags. Stacks of green bills poured
out.

He heard a rustling on the porch. His body stilled.
Footsteps moved to the right and to the left, and he saw a figure in the
window.

His forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He’d taken too much
time.

* * * * *

“Mr. Mitchum.”

Clint spun around at the familiar voice.

“What’re you—”

His words died. Five men in masks had him surrounded.

“What the hell? What are you idiots up to?”

Luke spoke in a husky voice. “You’ll need to come with us.”

“What the hell for?”

“Just do it.”

He didn’t have time for more distractions. Had the men lost
their minds sometime during the night? “Those masks don’t fool me. You think
I’m that stupid? I’d recognize you all with a box on your heads. Especially
you, Luke. I don’t know there’s a bigger man than you anywhere in these parts.
What game you playing here?”

Luke pulled his mask off. “No game,” he said. Roy, Tom and
the others followed his lead.

“Look, I have the money. I planned to pay you tomorrow.”

“We got paid. Triple what you offered.”

“How? Who?”

“By Lawson Cage.”

He snarled. “See here, I don’t have time for this bullshit.
You know I’m good for my money.”

Luke aimed a pistol to his gut. “Seems the money ain’t yours
anymore. You’ll be coming with us. The townsfolk are throwing you a going away
party.”

Clint went for his gun. “I ain’t going away.”

“No, but everything you own and think you own is.” Luke
lowered his pistol and pulled the trigger.

A bullet hit Clint in the toe.

Mitchum hollered and sank to the ground. Roy and Dan
wrestled the gun from his hand and kicked it to Luke.

“Get my horse. I ain’t carrying his broke ass.”

It took the three of them to hoist up on the horse. Blood
dripped from his boot like a leaky faucet. He went in and out of consciousness
several times, struggling to keep alert.

Ice-cold water on his head managed to revive him long enough
to learn he’d been tied to a chair in the same place Cage Crossing burned.

“This is a big mistake.”

“Seems you owe a lot of people money,” Luke said. “They’ve
come to collect.”

Clint watched the townspeople gather along the streets.

Luke stood in front of him, his big lumbering body blocking
the sun. He punched him in the face until his vision blurred.

“See, I don’t hit women. I hit scumbags who don’t pay up.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You’re going to sit here and watch everything precious to
you disappear.”

Clint swallowed blood. His front upper tooth hung loose.
Stan Flogelman came up and ripped his sheriff badge from his shirt.

“I’m afraid you’re no longer in the position to do anything
about…well…anything.”

The sun made his face hurt more. At this point he wished it
would melt his ass. The Mitchum name would die with him. If his father could
see him, he’d tell him to take his own sorry life. He probably would.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lawson tentatively approached the door.

“Who is it?”

“Russ and Corbet.”

Relieved, he took several deep breaths and let them in.

“Hey. Did ya find the money?”

“Yep.” He pointed behind him.

“Damn,” gushed Russ. “We’s got the wheelbarrows you asked
fer. And plenty of folks to push ’em.”

“Great. I’ll need it. There’s more than I expected.”

Stan Flogelman pulled up with Lawson’s truck and hopped out.
They joined him outside on the porch.

“Everything’s set,” he said.

“Good. They got Mitchum?”

“Yep. Roped to a chair. Has front-row seat to watch the bank
and jail blow. I told him about his house. Didn’t look pleased.”

“I’m heartbroken. Did you think on what we discussed
earlier? About the sheriff’s position?”

“Hard to think on anything else.” He stretched and pushed at
a floorboard with his boot. “Ah hell. I suppose I can do it.”

Lawson patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fair. That’s more
than what this town has ever had.”

“There’s one other thing,” Stan said and pulled a rolled-up
paper from his back pocket. “I’ve taken the liberty to design the new bank and
jail. I’d like to name the bank Cage Crossing Community Bank. What do you
think?”

Lawson stared at the design. “When did you find time to draw
this?”

“Been working on it for years. Finished it late last night.
Or maybe early this morning.”

“I’m impressed. You see to it that this happens, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Cole Cage would be proud.”

“I plan to make sure Jake is given a proper burial beside
his wife.”

Lawson nodded. “I’d say you’ve got your new duties down just
fine.”

“It’s going to take some time to get the bank built. Where
you keeping the money in the meantime?”

“There’s an underground railway that caved a long time ago.
I used to play there when I was small. Until my mom found out and tanned my
butt raw. I have some people over there fixing it up. The money will be safe
there to store.”

“You’re not worried about it being stolen?”

“Nope. The only crook in this town isn’t going anywhere near
it. Now I gotta get the show started.”

“Libby said to stop by if you’d like some greasy food to
take with you on the road.”

His stomach rumbled. “Sounds perfect.”

* * * * *

“You drive safe, sugar,” Libby called after him. “You’ll be
missed ’round here.”

Lawson held up the boxes of food. “Thanks again. I’m going
to miss you and your fine cooking.”

He revved the engine and turned down the main street of
town.

People lined up on either side of the street like a group of
parade watchers. He’d never seen so many people out on the street at one time.

He drove by and saw Mitchum strapped to a chair, looking
roughed up and displeased. A bully beaten at his own game. Luke stood beside
him, a slow grin forming on his face. While it wasn’t the showdown he’d first
concocted, he didn’t mind the change.

Lawson parked the truck and slipped his gun inside the
waistband of his jeans. Insurance should his plans go awry. He got out and
stood in front of Mitchum. “Looks like you’ve got a great view here from
beneath the new Cage Crossing sign.”

“You can’t win,” grumbled Mitchum. “Blowing up a few
buildings won’t stop me.”

“Not about winning,” he said. “I came here to make right
some of the wrongs done to my family. I’ve nothing left to prove.”

Mitchum’s lips curled as if he’d tasted something rotten.
“Thought you said you were going to kill me.”

“I was. I’ve thought about it long and hard for twenty-five
years. Every damn day.”

“And instead you’re going to run. You’re a goddamn momma’s
boy. Like Garvey was.”

“You’ve no idea the things I’ve done in my life,” he said,
forcing himself to remain calm, in control. “But no matter.” He reached into
Clint’s holster and pulled out the silver dollar. “I’ve got what I want. I’m
leaving you with nothing. The Mitchum name means nothing. Your reign is over.”

“Like hell it is.”

He shrugged and slid the coin into his pocket. “You can’t
infect this town anymore. The people run it now. They’ll keep you on a short
leash. It’s what you deserve.”

“Admit it. You’re a coward. Like all Cages. Run like your
grandmother ran. Run because the Cage name brings nothing but shame.”

Lawson pulled his magnum and cocked it. He pushed the tip up
into Mitchum’s quivering jowls. “Listen, you fuck. I’m not running. I’m moving
on. You’re nothing, and I’m done wasting time on nothing.”

His arm shook. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. In his
head he heard the words
shoot him shoot him shoot him
. If he shot him
now the bastard would be out of everyone’s lives. For good. Forever. He wanted
it bad. To pull the trigger. To end a life that had taken so many lives.
Innocent lives. To see his eyes roll up into his fucking head. Why let him
live?

“Lawson.”

“Go away, Luke,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ve got
this.”

“Oh, I know you do. No question. But uh, you know, people
are out here waiting for the fireworks. And uh, there are women and children
out here.”

The words hit a nerve. Lawson’s arm went limp at his side.
“Point made,” he said and rotated toward Luke. “Promise me you don’t ever let
him have control again.”

“I swear it. He’s done. Now you best finish up what you
started. The town’s waiting for you. They’ve waited for you a long time.”

He inhaled sharply and let the rage ebb. “Right.”

“You’ll never be rid of me,” Mitchum said, his eyes too big
for his face. “I’m going to stick with you. I’ll be that niggle you can’t
shake.”

Lawson balled his fingers into a fist but didn’t react. “You
hope that’s what will happen, but I can guarantee that once I leave here, I’ll
never think of you again.”

He tipped his chin to Luke and turned away.

Back in his truck he drove down the street. Kids waved and
cheered. For a moment he felt outside of himself. No, he felt calm. Not
motivated by revenge. Motivated by doing the right thing. He imagined his
grandfather smiling at him, proud of the man he’d become. He wouldn’t have
liked the man from before. But he couldn’t leave without leaving something to
remember him by. The townspeople wanted a show, so he’d give them one.

Lawson drove all the way down and then turned the truck
around. He pushed the accelerator and steered straight. In his mind he
envisioned what the town might look like someday. People passing one another,
smiling, enjoying their lives.

At the corner of the old mercantile, he glimpsed Montana,
her eyes wide and expectant. His chest tightened. He continued driving. Lawson
wanted to pretend that she didn’t mean a damn thing to him.

“Drive on,” he mumbled under his breath, “drive on and don’t
look back.”

He thought of his grandmother’s words about how gramps was
everywhere before they got together, and she couldn’t shake him. But then she
realized that she didn’t want to shake him. She wanted him. He hadn’t been able
to shake Montana from the moment he caught sight of her. And he didn’t want to
know what it would be like without her.

With a groan of defeat, he pumped the brakes, reached over
and threw open the passenger door. She ran up to the door, her dark hair
swirling behind her.

“Get in.”