RattlingtheCage by Ann Cory Page A

from the kitchen table and dropped her
into it.
    Montana shook her head. “Please, I beg you. Don’t.”
    He tied the rope tight around her body, giving her little
room to move. The rope bit into her skin but she didn’t complain. Taking a
white cloth from his inside pocket, he wrapped it around her mouth.
    “I’m not big on roughing up a woman,” he said.
    She softened her eyes, hoping he’d take that as her way of
being grateful.
    Clint stepped into view and her body jerked.
    “Then how about you go wait outside while I take care of her
myself.”
    He brought his face close, his crude breath an assault on
her senses. “I’m not going to do much. Just enough to shake up Mr. Cage. I
won’t do anything permanent to that pretty face.”
    He rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows.
    Montana shut her eyes and waited for the first blow.

Chapter Seventeen
     
    Lawson made a quick detour to his truck and then hauled ass
to the bank. Before he slipped inside the back door, Russ and Corbet called out
to him.
    “Hey, stranger. Heard you’s was still around.”
    “Fellas,” he said and tipped his hat. “I’m stubborn that
way.” He glanced around and then leaned into them. “You two don’t want to be
standing around in the open talking to me.”
    Russ twisted around and then nodded, his eyes the size of wagon
wheels. “We’ll be quick. We just thought you should know some men showed up in
town this morn’.”
    “The kind of men that means trouble,” added Corbet.
    Curious, Lawson asked, “Do you know who they are?”
    “Friends of Mitchum’s.”
    “Well, I appreciate the heads up.”
    Russ nodded. “Be careful.”
    “Yeah,” Corbet said. “You seem like good people.”
    “Nowhere near as good as you two. Now go on, get out of
here.”
    He didn’t need to have their deaths on his conscience too.
It was getting pretty crowded up there. He also didn’t have time to wonder
about these supposed friends of Mitchum’s. No doubt he’d run into them soon
enough. Until then he had a bank to search. He’d already lost valuable time.
    Grateful to Flogelman for leaving the door unlocked, he went
inside and poked around loose floor boards, behind the walls, and up around the
ceiling. Inside the small office room he rummaged through the file cabinet, but
other than files of all the illegal activity Mitchum took part in, nothing
revealed the location of the money.
    To his surprise, Flogelman had left the vault open. He
rechecked inside and underneath it, but came up empty.
    Out of time, he headed for the door.
    He stopped short.
    Clint, Garvey and three men he’d never seen before blocked
the exit with guns aimed in his direction.
    “Mr. Cage. I figured it was only a matter of time before you
sniffed around where you didn’t belong.”
    He glowered. Mitchum looked just like he’d always pictured.
A weasel in bad need of a shave with beady eyes and claws for hands. “You
should’ve thrown a welcome back party for me.”
    Clint grunted. “That’s just it. You ain’t welcome here.”
    “Huh. I’ve felt nothing but welcome.”
    “If you mean Montana,” the weasel scoffed, “she’ll welcome
any male on two legs.”
    Lawson nodded toward the deputy. “Except you, from what I
hear.”
    The gun shook in Garvey’s hand.
    Lawson reached for his knife.
    Two of the men, one with hair that looked like straw and the
other with short graying hair, lunged. Lawson backed away but Straw Man did
some fancy move that upended his legs and flipped him to the ground.
    A hideous crack resounded. His shoulder flared. He knew it
had dislocated.
    “Get off me,” he shouted, momentarily paralyzed.
    “It’s okay, Roy,” he heard Mitchum say, and Straw Man
climbed off wearing a foul excuse for a smile and holding his knife. Lawson
vowed to get that knife back.
    He moved to get up but Mitchum brought his boot heel down
hard on his shoulder. Lawson rolled to his side. Did everyone know about his
bad shoulder? “Going to have