Novels: The Law is a Lady Read Free Page A

Phil gaped at the large gun in her elegant hand. "Now, unless you want another count of resisting arrest on your record, you'll go quietly into that first cell over there. The linen's just been changed."
    Phil wavered between astonishment and amusement. "You don't expect me to believe you'd use that thing."
    "I told you I don't argue with beliefs." Though she kept the barrel lowered, Tory quite deliberately cocked the gun.
    He studied her for one full minute. Her eyes were too direct and entirely too calm. Phil had no doubt she'd put a hole in him—in some part of his anatomy that she considered unimportant. He had a healthy respect for his body.
    "I'll get you for this," he muttered as he headed for the cell.
    Her laugh was rich and attractive enough to make him turn in front of the bars. Good God, he thought, he'd like to tangle with her when she didn't have a pistol in her hand. Furious with himself, Phil stalked into the cell.
    "Doesn't that line go something like: 'When I break outta this joint, you're gonna get yours'?" Tory pulled the keys from a peg, then locked the cell door with a jingle and snap. Struggling not to smile, Phil paced the cell. "Would you like a harmonica and a tin cup?"
    He grinned, but luckily his back was to her. Dropping onto the bunk, he sent her a fulminating glance. "I'll take I lie tin cup if it has coffee in it."
    "Comes with the service, Kincaid. You've got free mom and board in Friendly." He watched her walk back to the desk to replace the pistol. Something in the lazy, leggy gait affected his blood pressure pleasantly. '
    'Cream and sugar?" she asked politely. "Black."
    Tory poured the coffee, aware that his eyes were on her. She was partly amused by him, partly intrigued.
    She knew exactly who he was. Over her basic disdain for what she considered a spoiled, tinsel-town playboy was a trace of respect. He hadn't attempted to influence her with his name or his reputation. He'd relied on his temper. And it was his temper, she knew, that had landed him in the cell in the first place.
    Too rich, she decided, too successful, too attractive. And perhaps, she mused as she poured herself a cup, too talented. His movies were undeniably brilliant. She wondered what made him tick. His movies seemed to state one image, the glossies another. With a quiet laugh she thought she might find out for herself while he was her "guest."
    "Black," she stated, carrying both cups across the room. "Made to order."
    He was watching the way she moved; fiuidly, with just a hint of hip. It was those long legs, he decided, and some innate confidence. Under different circumstances he would have considered her quite a woman. At the moment he considered her an outrageous annoyance. Silently he unfolded himself from the bunk and went to accept the coffee she held between the bars. Their fingers brushed briefly.
    "You're a beautiful woman, Victoria L. Ash ton," he muttered. "And a pain in the neck."
    She smiled. "Yes."
    That drew a laugh from him. "What the hell are you doing here, playing sheriff?'
    "What the hell are you doing here, playing criminal?"
    Merle burst in the door, grinning from ear to ear. "Holy cow, Mr. Kincaid, that's some car!" He dropped the keys in Tory's hand, then leaned against the bars. "I swear, I could've just sat in it all day. Bestler's eyes just about popped out when I drove it in."
    Making a low sound in his throat, Phil turned away to stare through the small barred window at the rear of the cell. He scowled at his view of the town. Look at this place! he thought in frustration. Dusty little nowhere. Looks like all the color was washed away twenty years ago. Baked away, he corrected himself as sweat ran uncomfortably down his back. There seemed to be nothing but brown—dry, sparse mesa in the distance and parched sand. All the buildings, such as they were, were different dull shades of brown, all stripped bare by the unrelenting sun. Damn place still had wooden sidewalks, he mused, sipping at