Barb Han - Endangered Heiress

“How are you, Hudson?” Doris asked, rolling her eyes at the craziness going on. She was midfifties and the type who made it her personal mission to know what everyone in town—and in his case, just out of town—was up to. She was also an old friend of his mother’s before she’d passed away. Lucky for her Hudson’s mother had died years before she could be embarrassed by her son. Hudson performed a mental headshake. He wasn’t there to think about his own shortcomings and misery.

“Better now that I’ve had a chance to see you.” The line was cheesy as all get-out but Doris didn’t seem to mind.

She smiled so hard her cheeks turned six shades past pink.

“And you’re a flatterer,” she quipped with that smile intact.

Hudson’s gaze drifted to the makeshift command post that had been set up in the adjacent conference room. He heard the buzz of intake volunteers taking calls.

“Looks like you’re staying busy.” He forced his gaze away from the room and back to Doris. He’d read the stories about Maverick Mike and then Ella Butler.

“Us?” Doris glanced around. “Darn right. This town hasn’t seen anything like this in all my considerable years. It’s a train wreck in here, if you ask me. I don’t remember the last time the sheriff left for more than four hours to sleep. His heart won’t take it at this pace.”

Pens were lined up in neat rows on her desk next to a line of pencils. She had a notepad positioned on her desk in front of her and her computer was off to one side. A woman like Doris was old-school and would prefer to write things down over spending her days glued to a screen. Hudson was sure she subscribed to the old thinking that staring at the TV too long could make a person go blind.

“Are you trying to convince me that you’d let things get out of control?” He perched on the edge of her desk and she immediately shooed him off it.

“There are other, more qualified people in town who could act as a consultant if they saw fit.” The insinuation was that he, being from a big city like Houston, would be more equipped to deal with hard-core crimes, like, say murder. Hudson leaned to one side to avoid the proverbial hand grenade being tossed at him. He had no plans to touch that statement. His days in law enforcement were over.

“What brings you all the way into town?” She blinked her eyes up at him like she was ready for him to tell her the sky was falling.

“Can’t I check on my favorite person once in a while?” He wasn’t ready to tip his hand. Gauging from the chaos in the office, the sheriff didn’t have the resources to properly address the reporter’s incident. And that worried Hudson for reasons he shouldn’t care about. He’d done his part, played the role of Good Samaritan. If he had any sense he’d turn around, walk out that door and let a sleeping dog alone.

Instead, he took a seat across from Doris and leaned forward.

“Thanks for the habanero peppers, by the way. Diced some up and threw them in the pan with a pair of eggs this morning. Best breakfast I’ve had in months,” he said.

“There’s something about homegrown that gives ’em that extra kick of flavor.” Her eyes lit up. His mom used to joke that her friend grew a garden in small part to feed herself and in large part so that she could stop by and check on her friends on a regular basis. “If you’d come around more often, I’d send you home with all you want. I always grow more than I can use in case someone’s in need.”

“Now I’m a charity case?” Hudson joked but a pang of guilt nailed him. He’d been content to stick to his ranch. Heck, he’d have his groceries delivered if it meant never leaving his property. The place was the only thing keeping him sane after everything he’d lost and he’d pretty much lost everything.

Once again, he had to ask himself why he was sitting in the sheriff’s office.

“Is the boss around?” He glanced toward the hallway.

“Afraid not. Everything all right?” Concern creased her forehead.

“With me? Yeah. I was just checking on a friend,” he said.

“Since when do you have a friend in town?” Her brow shot up.

The phone rang. She excused herself to take the call.

Hudson had almost talked himself into slipping out the door while she was preoccupied with the conversation. Until he heard her say the name Madelyn Kensington.

“Where is she?” Doris asked.

Hudson leaned a little closer to Doris’s desk.

“The Red Rope Inn, got it,” she said low into the receiver. “I’ll sure tell the sheriff when he returns. Should be half an hour or so.”

Did something happen to Madelyn?

“She’s hysterical? What about?” Doris asked into the phone. “Okay. I got it. I’ll let him know. Thank you for the call.” Before Doris could end her conversation and delay Hudson with questions, he was out the door.

Madelyn was in trouble. He’d heard it in Doris’s voice. The Red Rope Inn was eighteen minutes from there, according to his GPS device. He glanced at the route, confident he could make it in ten.

Hudson zipped in and out of cars. The deputy on duty wouldn’t appreciate any interference with his investigation, so Hudson needed to think of a good excuse to show up. Mentioning Doris might get her in trouble, and based on his proximity, he had about two minutes to come up with a plausible excuse.

The parking lot was quiet. All the action was going on inside the lobby, Hudson noticed as he searched for Madelyn through the glass. His pulse calmed a notch when he saw her—saw that she was okay—and he didn’t want to care as much as he did. He told himself it was the action he missed and not the person who’d occupied his thoughts since she’d driven away.

“I couldn’t get ahold of you on your cell.” He made a beeline toward Madelyn with the pretense they were a couple. The bell gave away his presence the second the door moved.

Her gaze flew to him and he couldn’t immediately discern if his being there was a good thing or not.

“Why are you here?” The shock in her voice gave away the answer...not thrilled.

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