Cynthia Thomason

This Hero for Hire


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“I didn’t come here to rescue chickens.”

      “Gosh, I’d hate to think what you’d do if you really were involved in rescuing something.”

      Ignoring his jibe, she said, “I am involved in a cause, though. I came to manage my father’s campaign in this part of the state. He thinks I can be a big help in his reelection.”

      Boone’s eyes widened. “You could be, I suppose. But then he doesn’t know about your interference in chicken transport yet.”

      Susannah cringed. Her father was going to be furious with her. Because her father never tried to change anything about farming techniques, except for maybe getting more revenue from the federal government, the local farmers had overwhelmingly supported him in the last election, and now she’d royally pissed one off. Ironically, she really was here to help his campaign, though that was a secondary goal. Albee Rhodes was a good man and wanted the best for Georgians, maybe not in the same way that Susannah did, but he was every bit as sincere with his intentions.

      “I promise I’ll try to stay out of the business of local breeders while I’m here.”

      He smiled. “I think that’s a good idea and the best method to ensure that Governor Rhodes gets the most votes.”

      “But you’re still taking me to jail?”

      “’Fraid so. In fact, if you don’t remember, it’s that brick building on the left just ahead.”

      She drew a fortifying breath and punched her father’s private cell number into her phone before she sat back and cupped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t want Boone to overhear her conversation and think she was the type of princess who would call on daddy to get her out of trouble. If she had any other option today, she wouldn’t be making this call. She wasn’t a princess, but darn it, she just didn’t have time to sit in a jail cell right now. Her truck was full of supplies and more were coming. She needed to negotiate a land purchase, and she needed to do it now. Her partners were depending on her.

      * * *

      LILA MENENDEZ WAS seated at her desk when Boone escorted Susannah into the station. He could do nothing to avoid the familiar smirk on Lila’s face. He gave her a warning look and she wisely pretended to be interested in some paperwork.

      Boone showed Susannah to the ladies’ room and, according to standard procedure, posted a guard outside the door. Then he went to the squad room to begin the report.

      “We don’t get too many serious criminals in this town,” Lila said when he’d taken his seat behind the desk. “How many casualties did she cause? At least a couple hundred, I’m told.”

      Trying to ignore the sarcasm, Boone said, “Don’t start, Menendez. I’m not having my best day.”

      “Understood, partner. How about I buy you a beer after our shift and you can tell me all about Operation Flying Feathers?”

      That’s all Boone needed. He’d known for months that Lila had a crush on him, and he’d used about every dodging tactic he could think of to avoid encouraging her. Going out for a beer with several officers was one thing. Going out with just Menendez was another.

      He was trying to come up with a logical reason why he couldn’t accept her offer when he was saved by a loud commotion nearby. Governor Rhodes had arrived, booming voice and all, as well as a couple of muscle-bound guards. Boone made no effort to stop filling out his report and speak to Rhodes. The wheels of justice for the rich and famous would continue to turn as always, but at least he would get the facts down on paper.

      “This is my cue to leave,” Menendez said, getting up from her desk. “Rich people make me nervous. I’ll check in with you later about that beer.”

      She left and the guard escorted Susannah to the middle of the room, where her father waited. She almost reminded Boone of a scared child who’d been brought before the principal. The cops present turned to stare at the partially plucked evildoer. One cop chuckled out loud. A few tried to pretend they didn’t know what was going on. Boone kept working. He figured he was already on the outside of the governor’s good graces. He couldn’t ignore Rhodes’s booming voice, though.

      “Have you got the keys to your vehicle?” Rhodes asked Susannah.

      “Yes, they’re in my purse.”

      “Okay.” He nodded at a big man dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt. “Buster will take you out to your Suburban, and you can drive it home.”

      “Okay. And Daddy, I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back...”

      “You can pay me back by not getting into any more trouble en route to the house.”

      “I think I can make it without breaking another law, even if that means innocent animals have to suffer for it.”

      Rhodes frowned. “I’d like to believe that, Susie.” His facial features softened as he wrapped a big hand around her arm. “Despite everything, it’s good to have you home again.”

      Her shoulders relaxed. Her lips trembled when she tried to smile. “Thanks for saying that.” She attempted to give him a hug, but he stood straight and rigid with his arms at his sides.

      “When you get to the house, take a shower,” the governor said. “You smell.”

      Susannah walked up to Boone’s desk. “Boone? Can I call you Boone?”

      “Sure.”

      “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you today.”

      He sat back in his chair and stared at her. She had plucked and picked just enough so he recognized a bit of the Susannah he remembered. Her hair, shorter now than when she was in high school, still reached just below her shoulders and was the same pretty, natural blond, kind of like Georgia wheat. Her cheeks were soft and porcelain-looking, and her lips were full and pink. Her nose was defined by a sprinkling of freckles. She had some Georgia left in her, after all. “All part of the job,” he said, though he’d decided this had been one crazy day.

      “I’d like to guarantee you that we won’t run into each other again while I’m home,” she said. “But I’m afraid that’s not true. Our paths will definitely cross at a later time.”

      Had the governor told her he’d hired Boone to watch over her? Or did she mean something entirely different? She sounded almost prophetic, as if she had her own agenda for seeing him in the future.

      “Go on, now,” Rhodes said. “I’m staying behind to have a word with Officer Braddock.”

      “I don’t think he can be bribed, Daddy,” she said.

      “I don’t need to bribe him, Susie. I’ve bought and paid for two hundred chickens today just so you can go home and soak in a hot bath.”

      “Put it on my bill,” she said, but not in a smart-alecky voice.

      She and Bodyguard Buster left the station, and Rhodes pulled up a chair next to Boone’s desk. He clasped his hands on his lap. “Quite a spitfire that one,” he said.

      “Yes, sir.”

      “In case you’re wondering, I didn’t call in any political favors to get her freed, Boone. I just made a phone call to Old Man Jonas and agreed to pay him a fair price for his chickens.” Rhodes frowned. “More than fair. And Sam agreed not to press charges.”

      “I suppose that would work,” Boone said.

      “I know what you’re thinking,” Rhodes said. “People with money can buy their way out of almost any scrape.”

      Boone was thinking exactly that.

      “But in this case, I think Susannah had a point. If she truly did save those birds from drowning, then I should support her efforts.”

      Boone leaned back in his chair. “I think she saved some chicks. So you paid her chicken ticket because you approve of what