Cynthia Thomason - This Hero for Hire

“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 she did?”

“No, I don’t approve, but I can’t condemn. Her heart was in the right place. And there’s another reason...”

Boone waited.

“Truth is, I can’t have Sam Jonas telling the media about the governor’s uncontrolled daughter interfering with one of the staple industries of this fine state.”

Especially this close to an election, Boone thought.

“So you see how this went down, son. Chickens freed from an inhumane death and rumors squelched with a check payable to Sam Jonas. It’s a win for yours truly, as I see it. And a better ending than most political stories these days.” The governor smiled. “I hope this won’t affect your ability to look after her while she’s here. I’m still counting on you.”

Was he kidding? Boone assumed he was already fired. He’d arrested the governor’s daughter! But apparently not. Well, if the governor held some outlandish notion that he still wanted Boone for this assignment, Boone had figured out how he could logically back out.

“Pardon me, sir,” he began, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to watch Susannah for you.”

“Why the blazes not?”

“I’m hardly her favorite person.”

The governor’s chest puffed out, straining the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t care if she likes you. I just care if you take care of her. And besides, Susie won’t hold this chicken business against you. Actually, you’re even more perfect for the job now. You’ve reacquainted yourself with Susie. You know the kinds of scrapes she might get herself into—all because of an innate decency that has been her downfall on more than one occasion.”

Rhodes slapped his hand on the desk. “No, sir, Boone, I want you and you only.”

Boone almost winced. Besides what had just happened between them, despite that kiss in the equipment room, he and Susannah had hardly said two words to each other growing up. He couldn’t convince himself that she would accept him shadowing her every move.

Undaunted, Rhodes went on. “But in all fairness, I should fill you in on a little of Susie’s background. She’s never been an ordinary child, though I can’t tell you how many times I wished she were. I would have preferred if she had been content to sit on the sidelines of issues and be a nice young Georgia lady. But that kind of life wasn’t for her. She’s always been a pot stirrer, stirring things up until lids were ready to explode.”

The question, which was certainly none of Boone’s business, popped out of his mouth before he’d thought enough to suppress it. “Is that why you sent her off to private school?”

The governor’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t want to do that, but I didn’t think I had a choice. Susannah’s mother took off when Susie was only thirteen. That’s a tender age, and Susie acted out. Guess I can’t blame her. After all, Miranda encouraged her free-wheeling behavior, telling her that she was creative and spunky.” The governor huffed. “What good is spunky for a young lady? So, yes, I picked an all-girls academy in Atlanta that was known for discipline and a thorough schooling of the social graces.”

Susannah Rhodes in a stuffy girls’ school? Boone couldn’t picture it. “How did that work out, sir?”

Rhodes shrugged. “At least the reason for the headaches she caused me over the years were contained in another locale. And I believe Susie was happy there. I wasn’t breathing down her neck. We weren’t arguing every night at dinner. If anything, she saw boarding school as an opportunity to concoct new ways to circumvent the rules.

“You may find this hard to believe, Boone, since you’re a fine, upstanding Georgia boy, a believer in our traditions...”

Why did that analysis make him seem boring?

“...but I’m proud of Susannah. She’s made her own way, and the world is probably the better for her active participation in it.” He smiled. “That’s not to say she doesn’t require a reminder every once in a while, like today. And protection from outside influences that might try to corner her to get some dirt on me. That’s where you come in.”

Was the governor suggesting that Boone was to be a disciplinarian? He definitely wasn’t in agreement with that role. “Sir, I’m not comfortable with the idea of being the one to remind your daughter about her behavior. I’ve seen enough today to know that she won’t like the idea, either, especially not from me.”

“You let me worry about Susie’s reaction. Besides, it’s okay with me if you think of yourself as fulfilling a security detail, a description that’s probably more to your liking. But while you’re keeping watch over her, you can see that she doesn’t jump blindfolded off a cliff, can’t you?”

“If I see the cliff before she does, then yes, I suppose so.”

“Good.” The governor stood and extended his hand to Boone. “It’s settled then. I’d like you to come out to the house tonight for supper, Boone. The three of us will sit down and go over our responsibilities.” Rhodes grinned. “And I promise that even after paying a big bill today and adding more than two hundred chickens to my holdings, I won’t serve one!”

Was there a way around this invitation? Boone didn’t think so. “All right. Have you told Susannah anything about hiring a special security person? And have you even hinted that the person is me?”

“All in good time, Boone. I’m figuring to do just that once a bottle of good ol’ Georgia chardonnay is breathing on the table. Nobody knows my Susie like I do.”

Watching the governor walk out the door to the big black Cadillac parked at the curb, Boone wasn’t convinced that the man knew his daughter as well as he thought he did. He wondered if anyone did.

CHAPTER THREE

BOONE TURNED ONTO High River Road as the sun was setting over the harvested corn fields. The temperature had dropped to a cool sixty-eight degrees, a great night for bass fishing in Lake Cullowhee if he weren’t headed to the governor’s mansion. There was no other outcome to this evening than having it be a disaster. Boone wished he’d been able to come up with a reason to decline the governor’s invitation—and his job offer.

His phone rang. Boone pulled the device from his pocket and recognized the familiar number. He immediately pictured Menendez with her black hair pulled back under her cop hat, her dark eyes focused on her pledge to serve and protect. He’d managed to avoid her and thus her invitation for a beer, but this might be business, so he switched on his speaker. “Menendez, what’s going on?”

“Hello, Braddock. I looked for you after work, but you’d taken off. So I’m calling with an offer you won’t be able to refuse.”

Despite his usual reservations at hearing one of Lila’s “offers,” Boone couldn’t help but picture the smile that transformed her serious expression into a poster for youth and exuberance. Bright coral lipstick usually framed her white, slightly crooked teeth. Menendez was a cutie, and she was a good rookie cop and a fine partner, but at twenty-four, ten years younger than Boone, he felt like he was mentoring his little sister. He just couldn’t switch his admiration for Menendez into anything personal.