This Hero for Hire

by Cynthia Thomason

  “Did we know each other?” she asked after her scrutiny had become obvious.

  “Not well. I was a senior when you were a sophomore.”

  “Can I ask your name?”

  “Sure. It’s Boone Braddock.” His gaze stayed on her face for a couple of seconds, as if he expected a reaction.

  She steeled herself not to give him one. Boone Braddock! He was the good-looking senior she’d coaxed into the gym equipment room. She’d had such a futile crush on him. After she’d kissed him, he’d just stood there as if it were the worst moment of his life. She couldn’t get out of the gym fast enough.

  But if this man was a Braddock, maybe fate might be on her side after all. She’d try talking to him without bringing up the gym incident. Judging from how he behaved at the time, he probably didn’t remember the kiss anyway. He may not have even known her name that day.

  “Boone, of course! Your family lives out on Glenville Road, and your grandfather has that nice level piece of property there.”

  He glanced back at her. “You remember my grandfather’s land?”

  Be careful not to give too much away, Susannah. She didn’t know how much Cyrus Braddock had told his grandson. “I just remember driving past and thinking it was a lovely piece of property.”

  “Well, that’s us.”

  Of all the people she could have run into her first day in town, she meets up with one of the Braddocks, a family member of the very man she’d come to do business with. It was time to convince this hometown boy that she was not a criminal, but instead a modern woman who cared about the environment and the future of current and coming generations.

  She asked a couple of leading questions and learned that Boone’s older brother, Jared, lived in Atlanta, and his parents were traveling the country in a motor home. She refrained from asking about Cyrus Braddock, Boone’s grandfather. She didn’t want to appear too curious about the man she’d come to see, at least not until she’d straightened out any misconceptions this cop had about her. She’d made positive strides with Cyrus in their correspondence, but the trust they’d established could be broken if his grandson influenced him.

  Right now she should concentrate on getting herself out of an uncomfortable situation. The cop was going to book her. Her father was going to want to kill her. And her friends were in Oregon.

  When they were near the town limits, she reopened conversation with the intent of raising Boone’s opinion of her. Maybe he didn’t know about her deal with Cyrus. Maybe he didn’t remember the kiss. “You Braddocks weren’t into chicken farming, were you?”

  “No. My grandfather has a few chickens on his land, but they’re layers, and mostly we just take the eggs to the shelter over in Libertyville.”

  “Now, see?” she said. “That’s very noble. And I’ll bet you let your chickens run free.”

  He eyed her again in the mirror. “We do, but like I said, we aren’t breeders. I don’t have anything against the folks around here who raise chickens for profit. It’s an important industry in this state. A lot of people depend on the income from their broilers, including Sam Jonas.”

  Was he going to keep intimidating her with the name Sam Jonas? She knew she was in trouble. And did Boone actually admire Jonas’s approach to raising chickens? It wasn’t her place to educate this cop about ethical treatment, especially when she wanted to make a good impression on him. But she’d never been one to play it safe when simple human decency was involved.

  She cleared her throat. “I understand that raising chickens is a big industry in this state, but you have to agree that the way those birds were being transported back there was in no way humane. Besides being crammed into crates so tight they couldn’t even spread their wings, the chickens had no protection against the elements.”

  Boone looked up through his windshield. “Susannah, it’s sunny and seventy-five degrees today. I don’t think any chickens suffered from frostbite.”

  “Have you ever been to a chicken farm, Boone?”

  “Of course. It’s not pleasant, but the majority of poultry is raised for human consumption. The birds have very short life spans, so comfort isn’t the main concern for the breeders.”

  “I’m not talking about comfort. I’m talking about conditions that border on extreme cruelty.” She was preaching again and toned down her approach with unemotional facts. “Did you know that chickens are the only animals not protected by ethical treatment laws? From the time a chick is born, it never sees the sun. It’s drugged and overfed and lives in filth in cramped quarters. That might not be so bad except the only contact they have with humans is when the catchers come to grab them by one leg to stick them in another even more cramped crate for transport to slaughter.”

  She checked the rearview mirror and tried to find at least a hint of compassion in Boone’s eyes, but his features were hidden in shadow. “How would you like to be held upside down by one leg by a creature twenty times your size?” she added.

  He glanced over the seat at her. “I think we ought to keep this discussion within the realm of reality.”

  “Okay, fine. But here’s another fact for you. By the time the chickens arrive at their destination, nearly half are already dead from exposure or stress.”

  “Really?” Boone rubbed his hand over his chin. “Makes me glad I wasn’t born a chicken.”

  She gulped back a gasp. “Is this a joke to you?”

  “I’m a country fella, Susannah. I see lots of chickens. I eat lots of chickens.” He wrinkled his nose. “Lately I’ve smelled lots of chickens. I don’t spend a whole lot of time worrying about their living quarters.”

  “Or anything else that is medieval about our treatment of farm animals,” she said under her breath.

  “What’s that?”

  “I said I need to use my cell phone. Can I take it out of my purse, please? I’d like to call my father.” She figured he would allow a call to the governor, but she was lying about liking to make it. Dreading was the more appropriate word.

  Boone stopped at one of the four traffic lights in Mount Union. He turned ninety degrees to see her clearly. Oh, yes, she remembered that face. Remembered it very well.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” he said. “You’re going to need the governor’s help. You won’t find too many people in this town who are sympathetic to your version of this incident.”

  Including the governor. Susannah had no doubt that Boone was right. Mount Union, Georgia, had never been a center of environmental progress or fair breeding and farming techniques. Here, farming was carried out the way it always had been, with farmers using the cheapest or most efficient methods to ensure the highest profit. And because Boone Braddock was as much a product of the region as those chickens back there, Susannah didn’t expect any sympathy from him. Still, he had that nice smile she’d never quite forgotten...

  And he’d been fair with her. She had broken the law, she supposed, though she’d upheld principles that should be important to everyone. Plus, she hadn’t counted on being caught. She was practically a stranger in this area, so she hadn’t been worried about being recognized. She would have gotten away with “The Great Escape Caper” too, if some passing motorist hadn’t called in the accident. She could have freed the chicks and jumped in her Suburban before the truck driver had the presence of mind to write down her license plate number.

  “Just so you know,” she said. “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 ch
icken 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 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 alr
eady 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.”