The Monkey Jungle (The Bennt, Montana Series)

by Taylor Ryan

  “That,” a quick jerk of Garth’s head indicated the package as Mary Kathryn took a seat, “is a recruitment package from the Cascade County Sheriff’s Department. From my new best friends.”

  Mary Kathryn’s eyes widened, then she blushed. The color crept slowly up her neck to her cheeks and all the way to her hair line. She glowered at him when his lips tilted. He was enjoying this, the bean brained jar head!

  Heather’s dead-pan gaze traveled from her sister’s face to Garth’s.

  “I’m supposed to tell Mr. Morley to fill the application out yesterday,” Heather imparted cheerfully, as if she hadn’t seen her sister’s red face. “Including the psych test, Morley. Which, I understand could keep a beaver busy for ten years. Good of you to want to join our boys, Garth. Nice of you to track Wilson down last night. Wilson was pleased to meet you, even though you were drinking beer in the park with Mary Kathryn. Which makes no sense,” she mused guilelessly, her encompassing gaze innocent. “Nevertheless, Wilson is thrilled you agreed to go with them this weekend for their paint ball war. This morning he called all his buddies looking for gear for you.” Heather waved at the package, ignoring her sister as she prattled on. “Beth Harper wants to make sure everything is above board when they win—which Beth said they would with you on their team, Garth. She said you guaranteed it, Garth.”

  Garth stared at the package, wondering at the deputies machinations. He was in a new kind of Monkey Jungle. Everywhere he turned someone in Bennt was dropping coconuts on his head. “I didn’t guarantee they’ll win. I can’t guarantee a win.”

  “That’s what I told them,” Heather beamed, pleased somebody was being sensible. “But Wilson said you would or else.” Heather eyed them intently. “I want to know what he meant! Spill the beans, Romeo. You be quiet,” she said to her sister, who ignored her.

  “Wilson must have meant that this was the opportunity Garth was looking for, a second career.” Mary Kathryn gushed, wide-eyed, thinking fast. It was obvious Heather didn’t know they’d been busted in a compromising position. Or did she...But Wilson was Wilson—Wilson would tell Heather if Garth didn’t cooperate now that Wilson was on board with Beth’s disgusting abuse of her powerfully amazing ability to gossip.

  Wilson and Beth wanted to win their silly paint ball war against the state troopers. They would use any means necessary. And Beth, that gun toting gossip monger? Mary Kathryn groaned, earning herself concerned looks from both Garth and Heather.

  “What’s the matter?” Heather instantly went from scenting an intrigue to concern. “Are you sick, Mary Kathryn? You look like you have a fever. On you, fever and guilt look the same. Don’t think for a second I believe your Mr. Marvelous Wet or Dry Morley is looking for a second career in our Podunk little county as a law officer. What gives, Mary Denise Kathryn?”

  “Why haven’t you tried to set Garth up with someone yet,” Mary Kathryn knew how to get her sister onto another subject and wielded the knowledge. “You owe me. It’s making me uneasy.”

  “I did,” Heather said smugly, peering at them over the rim of her coffee mug.

  “You did?” Garth and Mary Kathryn said simultaneously.

  Heather shook her head in disbelief glancing from one to the other. She snorted disgustedly, set her coffee down and rose. “Fill out the papers, Garth, or whatever Beth Harper is holding on you, I’ll harass Wilson until he tells me.” She eyed him meanly. “It better not have been something to upset Mary Kathryn or my Wilson will pummel you into the dirt then drop you off at the airport.”

  Mary Kathryn fled the room, the choking, strangled noise sounding like crying as her chair crashed to the floor.

  Both Heather and Garth stared at the chair, then each other. Heather’s gaze pinned him.

  Heather jumped right in. “Did you think you were going to seduce her out of her waffle recipe, or did you fall for that Goat Eating Man Mower of hers? Mary Kathryn actually likes you. I thought you’d be smarter about it.” Heather righted the chair.

  Garth laughed, rising to follow Mary Kathryn, his quick smile easy. “I called that woman a Weed Eater with the same intent.”

  Heather blinked, smiling. “Dang, I wish I’d thought of that one! Go fix whatever she’s upset about. It would be a shame if her Mr. Right turned into Mr. I-can’t-fix-nothin’-cause-I-can’t-keep-my-pants-up.”

  He scowled. She patted his arm. “You’re a bad, bad man. Wilson tells me everything.” Heather’s smile was mischievously smug. “He talks in his sleep. Sometimes. Well, hardly ever. Okay, never.” She observed Garth’s dubious expression and grinned. “I won’t tell you two got caught if you don’t. Not even if Mary Kathryn gives me the waffle snub...again. She’s oddly private in so many ways. People think they know her but they don’t know anything about her at all. And getting anything serious out of her is like pulling teeth. I know, and I’m good at it.”

  “I watched her make the batter.” Garth strode toward the door that led into the living room. “Maybe one of these days we can get together and compare what we remember.”

  “It’s a date!” Heather crowed.

  “No,” he glanced at her to find her on his heels. “It’s a waffle coup.”

  Heather’s rich laughter filled the room. “Garth, you help me get that recipe, I won’t make any more jokes about you, wet or dry.”

  “Yeah, right!” Garth snorted skeptically and left her heading for the front door as he made for the stairs. He opened Mary Kathryn’s bedroom door and stopped short. She was propped against her pillows watching television, eating a cookie.

  Delighted to see him, Mary Kathryn waved the cookie toward him. “Did it work? Is she gone?”

  He strode across the room to stand next to the bed. “I was worried. I thought you were upset.”

  “I was good, wasn’t I?” Mary Kathryn laughed and offered him the rest of her cookie, her eyes darkening with fascination as he took a bite. “You have a beautiful man’s mouth, Garth,” she said huskily. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so sexually frustrated my entire life.” She sighed. “I’m never telling Henry about the money. He’ll kill me by accident out of sheer nervousness and get it by default. I’d hate to die horny. Wouldn’t that suck?”

  She passed him another cookie as he stood stock still, staring at her with a hot gaze. “Garth,” she said. “Henry went through my papers. He broke all the room locks to keep me out of your pants. Regardless, I want you right now, Garth. I want you naked and sweaty. Or quick and rough. Last night was a tease. Seriously, we should be going at it like Swedish rabbits.” She reached for another cookie from the bag in the crook of her arm. “Yea, quick and delicious. But, with no lock on my door, I eat. Crunch and munch and think of you naked and sweaty...you’ve got the most amazing body—I can see you, wet and soapy in the shower with me all happy and well, you know...”

  She took a bite of her cookie. “So,” She used the tip of her tongue to catch a crumb at the corner of her mouth. “I’m considering adding an extra year against Henry’s inheritance for every cookie I eat, and for breaking the lock on my door—Garth?” Her cookie hand fell. “Where are you going?”

  “To find a hardware store.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  GARTH RETURNED THREE HOURS later, a shopping bag in his arms as he went into the house. “Where’s your mother?” he asked Henry, who sat kicked back in his mother’s easy chair watching television.

  “She went shopping.” Henry peered interestedly at the bag with its hardware icon emblazoned on it, turned off the television and followed Garth to the kitchen.

  “What have you got there?” Henry asked rather magnanimously. “Dinner? Can I help?”

  Garth dumped the bag upside down on the table. Henry’s face reddened. His mouth opened and closed more than once as he looked at the clam shell doorknob packaging.

  “Yes, you can help.” Garth ignored Henry’s consternation. “Fetch your mother’s electric drill and the drill bit set from the garage.”

  “B
ut—” Henry started to protest. He shrunk visibly at the stern expression on Garth’s face. Henry glanced at the doorknob sets, obviously debating the wisdom of new locks. He clearly wanted to protest, but Garth turned a chilly profile to the younger man and began sorting his purchases.

  “Mom may not like this,” Henry said stiffly.

  “Sure, Henry.” The scathing sarcasm of Garth’s tone made Henry cringe. “You keep telling yourself that while Alison is sneaking in and out of your bedroom all hours of the night. Give your mother back her sewing room, Henry. Let Alison move into your room.” The damned kid didn’t know what awkward was! He really ought to tell Henry not to touch Alison in his mother’s house. Let them get caught in the park.

  “It’s inappropriate for me and my girlfriend to be living together with my mother,” Henry mumbled. “Does Mom know about us?” he asked worriedly.

  “Of course she doesn’t know,” Garth said drolly, shooting a quick look at Henry and seeing a frown creasing Henry’s brow. He stared at the younger man in wonder then said dryly, “How could she? She wears a sand bag as a hat.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Henry. “I thought she’d figured us out.” Garth’s sarcasm had rolled right over Henry’s head.

  “Go get the drill gun,” Garth instructed patiently. “It’s in the garage above the freezer on a shelf.” He shook his head disgustedly. It was hard to believe Henry was twenty-five. He picked out the doorknob he’d bought for Mary Kathryn’s bedroom door, admiring the sturdy lock, but wondered if he should have bought a deadbolt.

  Henry returned within minutes with the drill and the drill bit case to find Garth waiting outside his mother’s bedroom door. Henry pretended he didn’t know as he asked, “Which door first?”

  Garth held out his hand, staring at Henry without saying a word. Henry’s face darkened as he reluctantly handed over the drill and bit box. “I, uh, messed with them.” “Then you can pay me back for all the new ones,” Garth stated as he crouched down inside the door. “The receipt is in the bag.” When Henry just stared blankly at him, Garth became annoyed. It was obvious Henry wasn’t going to pay for the damage he’d done to the doorknobs. The kid had no respect. Another point against Henry on Mary Kathryn’s list of reasons she wasn’t going to tell her son she had some money stashed. Garth found a magnetic drill bit and set it in the drill. “When are you and Alison moving out?”

  “Uh—what—moving?” Henry shuffled his feet.

  “You’re planning on supporting my daughter, aren’t you?” Garth asked casually. “Your mother can’t afford to support you both if she wants to drink decent wine and eat fresh Alaskan seafood.” He kept his tone stern, but inwardly was amused as Henry squirmed. “Did you think you would move in here after your mother turns herself in for the crime she’s committed?” Garth looked curiously at Henry then went back to the knob, Henry’s guilty nod giving him his answer.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Garth said tongue in cheek, deciding he could like the boy for his honesty, if nothing else. “I looked around and came to the same conclusion you did. We could send her off to prison and live pretty well if the powers that be don’t confiscate her loot. She’s got some pretty nice stuff. There’s no way she could have earned any of it legitimately. After all, she’s just a retired bank officer. She must have done something illegal to get it. A drug runner—driving all night with her pistol. Ready to blaze her way through your Uncle Wilson if he pulled her over. You know how she is... Self indulgently eccentric. Sewing, making waffles, playing bingo and running drugs to put you through college. I wonder what kind of drugs?” Garth scratched his head. “She implied it was Viagra, that druggies need Viagra to help impotence from the other drugs they abuse.”

  Henry gaped and began to wheeze.

  Garth was enjoying himself immensely, pulling his story from thin air because Henry was frantically gasping up oxygen as he hyperventilated.

  “Breathe into the bag,” he told Henry and blazed on, continuing with his task. “Your mother claims she has a doozy of a connection with the Irish Mob. She makes a killing, but I didn’t believe her.” He peered at closely at Henry, his expression serious. “She was drunk, bragging and trying to impress me.” He chuckled as he finished setting the door knob, handing Henry the old one. “Breathe, son. Everybody knows the Irish Mob stays out of Montana. It’s your mother’s territory. Besides, they’re afraid of getting their derbies dusty.”

  Henry was speechless, his face paling then turning beet red. “You—um, you don’t mind?”

  He looked relieved when Garth shook his head. Garth rose and checked the new knob. He opened and closed the door from both sides. After checking the lock from the inside, he pocketed the keys, daring the distracted Henry to object.

  Henry’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he burst into the song of the desperate: “I was thinking Mom should confess—go before the district attorney, or the FBI and work out a deal. But, then I was thinking how hard prison life would be on her and that we should move to Mexico. Even Viagra is illegal without a prescription,” he said quickly when Garth shot him a quick as they moved onto the upstairs bathroom.

  “Those dope heads will just have to get the Viagra somewhere else,” Henry declared. “Transporting illegal pharmaceuticals across state lines is a felony! A felony! We have to get her to stop!” He saw Garth’s expression and hurried to reassure him. “We’ll only go to Mexico if Alison agrees to go on the run with us. Do you really think there’s enough demand for that stuff that Mom could be making as much money as she’s spending?”

  “Apparently so,” Garth answered absently, staring at Henry and wondering how the hopeless, out of sheer desperation, clung to bullshit until their fingernails bled. “But you’re right about Mexico. Running is best. A trial could take years if she won’t cooperate.”

  “I know!” Henry nodded emphatically. “I’ve been freaking out. At least now I know where she gets the money.” Henry seemed relieved to have someone to discuss his dilemma with. He watched as Garth removed the screws from the doorknob, passing him a new one when Garth held out his hand. “I found the receipt for her mattress. It was special made in Fort Bragg, California. It cost a fortune!” He whistled quietly. “Twelve grand for a mattress! That’s moving a lot of Viagra!”

  “It sure is,” Garth muttered, almost embarrassed for the boy. He popped the outer cap of the knob and set the screw into drill bit. Was the kid really this dense? No wonder Mary Kathryn lamented. Henry was gullible and—shit, Alison wanted to marry the ridiculous half-witted dummkopf. Garth sighed, knowing if he said anything, Alison would only grow more determined. “Maybe I’ll take your mother and Alison to Mexico and leave you here.”

  “Hey!” Henry immediately protested. “I want go too!”

  “Somebody needs to keep the lawns mowed,” Garth pointed out. “Feed Pest and chew on the newspaper when it comes. It may as well be you. Be helpful and open the knob set without a key.”

  Henry cleared his throat, then coughed a few times as they quickly changed the knob and then went downstairs to the half-bath.

  “What is it, Henry?” Garth knelt inside the door, fitting the new door knob as Henry hemmed and hawed above him.

  “Have—uh, have you and my mother talked about, um, birth control? S-s-safe, um, safe sex?

  “Why should we? We’re not the ones having sex.” Garth grunted.

  “But, uh—” Henry gulped. “What about all your tests and stuff?”

  “What tests?”

  “Uh, er, um, well, you know...”

  “Uh, er, well, um, no, I don’t.” Garth glanced up at the red faced Henry then returned to his task, trying not to laugh out loud. “I think I’d like a son.” He drilled the screws out. “I’ve only Alison.” He glanced at Henry again, thinking he might have to, that this young man was the future generation. It looked dismally bleak. “Your mother has ten relatively good fertile years left, hit and miss, don’t you think?” He popped the outside half of the
knob onto Henry’s toe. “We should have a couple of kids.”

  “What?!” Henry squawked. He dropped the packages on his foot and squawked again, hopping up and down as he gasped in horror. “Kids—y-you want kids?—w-with my mother?!”

  Garth set the new knob and tightened the screws. “Pick up those old screws you kicked or somebody will step on them. I think I like the name Michael. Wouldn’t you like a little brother, Henry? If you stay here and Alison keeps working, you can baby sit our Michael for us when we go out. Little Michael, your step brother.”

  Henry went stiff, his expression screwed up with pain. Where it was coming from was debatable. The idea of his mother having children, or having a brother or sister at his age, or staying in Montana if they went to Mexico without him, or even babysitting while they all worked and he stayed home as official pet and kid sitter. It was hard to tell what was going through the younger man’s mind.

  “And I was thinking,” Garth said with a perfectly straight face. “With your mother in jail, and hopefully pregnant, they’ll give me the baby after it’s born.” He watched as Henry picked up the old doorknobs and screws. “I’ll be living here, of course. And need help, of course. Stinky diapers, feeding the motherless little bugger. You and me and your little brother, buddy. There’s another screw by your foot. Can I count on you not to get a job and help out? I’ll have to get a job, or find a hobby that gets me out of the house. I don’t want to be cooped up all day. Of course, you and Alison will have your own kids—you might as well watch them all, since Alison already has a job at the Pizza parlor.”

  “B-b-but—I’ve got a degree—”

  “Phewt!” Garth dismissed that out of hand.

  “We’ll go Mexico!” Henry exclaimed loudly. “I’ve already checked for flights. Mom can stay there after I get her settled. Hopefully nobody will think of extraditing her, even if they find her. She’s just a white collar criminal after all. Besides, it’s only Viagra.”