Novels: The Law is a Lady Read Free

have to make it sixty days." Phil said something quick and rude.
    Instead of being offended, Tory smiled. "Lock him up, Merle."
    "Now, just a damn minute—"
    "You don't want to make her mad," Merle whispered, urging Phil back toward the cells. "She can be mean as a cat."
    "Unless you want us to tow your car...and charge you for that as well." she added, "you'll give Merle your keys." She flicked her eyes over his furious face. "Read him his rights, Merle."
    "1 know my rights, damn it." Contemptuously he shrugged off Merle's hand. "I want to make a phone call."
    "Of course." Tory sent him another charming smile. "As soon as you give Merle your keys."
    "Now, look..." Phil glanced down at her badge again—"Sheriff," he added curtly, "you don't expect me to fall for an old game. This one"—he jerked a thumb at Merle—"waits for an out-of-towner to come by, then tries to hustle him out of a quick forty bucks. There's a law against speed traps."
    Tory listened with apparent interest. "Are you going to sign the ticket, Mr. Kincaid?'
    Phil narrowed his eyes. "No."
    "Then you'll be our guest for a while."
    "You can't sentence me," Phil began heatedly. "A judge—"
    "Justice of the peace," Tory interrupted, then tapped a tinted nail against a small framed certificate. Phil saw the name Victoria L. Ashton.
    He gave her a long, dry look. "You?"
    "Yes, handy, isn't it?" She cocked her head to the side. "Sixty days, Mr. Kincaid, or two hundred and fifty dollars."
    "Two-fifty!"
    "Bail's set at five hundred. Would you care to post it?"
    "The phone call," he said through clenched teeth.
    "The keys," she countered affably.
    Swearing under his breath, Phil pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. Tory caught them neatly. "You're entitled to one local call, Mr. Kincaid."
    "It's long distance," he muttered. "I'll use my credit card."
    After indicating the phone on her desk, Tory took the keys to Merle. "Two-fifty!" he said in an avid whisper. "Aren't you being a little rough on him?"
    Tory gave a quick, unladylike snort. "Mr. Hollywood Kincaid needs a good kick in the ego," she mumbled.
    "It'll do him a world of good to stew in a cell for a while. Take the car to Bestler's Garage, Merle."
    "Me? Drive it?" He looked down at the keys in his hand. .
    "Lock it up and bring back the keys," Tory added. "And don't play with any of the buttons."
    "Aw, Tory."
    "Aw, Merle," she responded, then sent him on his way with an affectionate look.
    Phil waited impatiently as the phone rang. Someone picked up. '"Answering for Sherman, Miller and Stein." He swore.
    "Where the hell's Lou?" he demanded.
    "Mr. Sherman is out of the office until Monday," the operator told him primly. "Would you care to leave your name?"
    "This is Phillip Kincaid. You get Lou now, tell him I'm in—" He turned to cast a dark look at Tory.
    "Welcome to Friendly, New Mexico," she said obligingly.
    Phil's opinion was a concise four-letter word. "Friendly, New Mexico. In jail, damn it, on some trumped-up charge. Tell him to get his briefcase on a plane, pronto."
    "Yes, Mr. Kincaid, I'll try to reach him."
    "You reach him," he said tightly and hung up. When he started to dial again, Tory walked over and calmly disconnected him.
    "One call," she reminded him.
    "I got a damn answering service."
    "Tough break." She gave him the dashing smile that both attracted and infuriated him. "Your room's ready, Mr. Kincaid."
    Phil hung up the phone to face her squarely. "You're not putting me in that cell."
    She looked up with a guileless flutter of lashes. "No?"
    "No."
    Tory looked confused for a moment. Her sigh was an appealingly feminine sound as she wandered around the desk. "You're making this difficult for me, Mr. Kincaid. You must know I can't manhandle you into a cell. You're bigger than I am."
    Her abrupt change of tone caused him to feel more reasonable. "Ms. Ashton..." he began.
    "Sheriff Ashton," Tory corrected and drew a .45 out of the desk drawer. Her smile never wavered as