Read This Hero for Hire Online

Authors: Cynthia Thomason

This Hero for Hire (11 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W
HEN
B
OONE
, S
USANNAH
and Omar left the sheriff's office in Boone's truck, they headed toward the fertilizer plant, where Omar could pick up his vehicle. Boone had been told that Randy's truck had already been impounded so it could be searched from top to bottom.

“I don't suppose there's anything we can do for Randy,” Susannah said when they'd gone a couple of miles.

Boone gawked at her for a moment. “Are you serious? The man just destroyed thousands of dollars in private property, and you want to help him out.”

“I know how that looks. But he was our friend. At least he was until this happened.” She looked at Boone. “What do you suppose will happen to him?”

“He'll be arraigned before a judge and no doubt be held for trial.”

“What about bond?”

“I can't see anyone around here arranging bond for him. No one knows him well enough to assume he wouldn't be a flight risk.” Boone pictured the unreliable youth. “And something tells me he doesn't have much collateral to secure his own bond.”

“No,” she agreed. “He barely made ends meet on the salary we gave him. But I don't think he's a total screwup. He told the police the truth when they asked him about Omar's and my involvement.”

Boone had been surprised that Randy had corroborated their stories. “You wouldn't be in my truck right now without his confession to the sheriff. He did speak up for you guys. But don't forget...” He glanced first at Susannah in the seat next to him and at Omar in the seat behind. “Neither one of you can leave town until the judge says so. Your testimony will be needed at trial.”

“We don't intend to leave,” Omar said in his precise, clipped accent. “We are happy with the land Susannah found for us. Your land. I'm quite encouraged by the initial planting we've done. We want to be here for the fall harvest.”

Boone flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. Didn't this guy realize what trouble Randy had caused? How he might be implicated? Or did his life revolve solely around planting vegetables? Suddenly aware of his own involvement with Susannah's friends, he realized he was into this scheme waist deep. He'd provided the land, he'd rescued the princess from the dungeon, he was keeping secrets from the king. What was left but a swift beheading?

He wondered if anything good, other than maybe a few overpriced vegetables, would come out of the entire enterprise. And then he stole another look at Susannah, and he knew he was wrong. She was something good—pure and caring—and he would scale walls and swim moats to protect and support her.

“What about the cost of the fertilizer Randy destroyed?” she asked. “If we had the money, I would pay it, but we don't. We won't realize a profit until the first fall crop comes in.” She looked over the front seat. “And I've already told Omar that we'd use some of the money to bring his wife and children here to see him.”

“I asked the sheriff about that,” Boone said. “The fertilizer manufacturer, a man named Harold Lawson, was well insured. This falls under the category of vandalism, and he'll be covered. But that doesn't let Randy off the hook. Lawson will probably want him prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

“So, jail time, you think?”

“I'm sure of it,” Boone said.

Susannah focused on Omar. “Should we get him an attorney?”

“I'm not in favor of it,” he said. “Randy brought this problem on himself. And besides, in your country an attorney is appointed by the court, isn't that right? Randy will have representation.”

They'd reached the fertilizer plant, and Boone pulled alongside Omar's old Ford and Susannah's equally rundown Suburban. Susannah started to get out of the truck.

“I'll take you home,” Boone said.

“But my truck will be left here.”

“It'll be fine. After what you've been through, I don't think you should drive.”

Her jaw dropped with indignation. “Oh, come on, Boone, you don't think I'm such a delicate flower that a little breaking and entering and a few hours in lockup would render me incapable of driving?”

He wasn't going to lose this argument. He'd seen her hands tremble in the conference room. At one point he was certain she was close to tears. She'd sat for hours in wet clothes. She hadn't eaten or slept, and she'd suffered a major disappointment at the hands of someone she trusted. Either he was going to protect her, or he wasn't, and the job started for real right now.

“I'm taking you home, Susannah. That's how it is. Later, after you've rested, we'll come back for your truck.”

She almost smiled. So did he. Maybe she was going to listen to reason from now on. Her gaze scanned the immediate vicinity where law enforcement officers were scrambling around the exterior of the building. Crime scene tape blocked much of the parking lot. “I guess this is a safe enough place for a fifteen-year-old truck,” she said.

Omar got out of the back after he and Susannah made plans to meet at the farm later that day. If the other two on their team could accomplish enough by themselves, they would each try to rest for a while. Later they'd regroup and decide what they needed to do to take up the slack left by Randy's arrest.

* * *

T
HERE
 
WAS
 
SOMETHING
 
so comfortable about Boone. And safe. As they headed back to the house, Susannah leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. For a few moments she actually dozed off but was jarred awake at the click of the truck's turn signal.

“Back already?” she said.

“You were asleep,” Boone said. “Go on up to your bedroom and I'll ask Maria to fix you a sandwich.”

Susannah grinned at him. “If she doesn't want to fix a sandwich at eight o'clock in the morning, would you fix me one?”

“I might. If you promise to stay put.”

“Which reminds me,” she said as they both got out of the truck. “You said things were going to change around here. Is there something else you want to tell me about that?”

He stopped on the front entryway steps and looked down at her. “Are you sure you want to get into this right now?”

She sat on a concrete step and brushed off the area next to her, inviting him to join her. “If we don't, I think your head might explode.”

“Okay. You could be right.” He sat next to her.

She wanted him to blow off the steam that she'd practically seen coming from his ears since she'd sat with him at the police station. Boone wasn't the sort to overlook a few indiscretions, and he had to be seething over her behavior. This was the second time Susannah had planned on not getting caught, and the second time she'd been rounded up like a loose calf. She was going to have to come up with new plans of escapes because clearly she was the getting-caught type.

“I'm going to assume you are terribly disappointed in me,” she said.

“Disappointed? I might be disappointed if you burned the toast, but this...” His eyes narrowed threateningly. “You snuck out of the house. You didn't tell me where you were going. You ignored the only rule we've established between us—full disclosure. If your father hears about this...”

“I spoke to the sheriff before we left,” she said. “I asked him to keep my name out of the media if he could. Considering I'm not going to be held or charged, and because he's a Rhodes supporter, he agreed. I don't think there's any way Daddy will learn of this.”

“Unless I tell him,” Boone answered matter of factly.

“You wouldn't!”

“It's what I thought about during my drive to the sheriff's office. I seriously considered bagging this whole assignment, telling your father that I want no part of protecting his sweet little Georgia peach...”

“Now you're just being condescending.”

“Maybe this is exactly what you need to hear, Susannah, because this stunt today was the pattern of a woman who sees herself as somehow entitled, above the law, and if I were smart, I'd hightail it right back to being a simple small-town cop.”

“First of all, you're not simple, not at all. And I do not see myself as entitled. You've seen my truck, my clothes. For heaven's sake, that ratty old straw hat I wear in the sun is more than five years old and traveled with me from India. We're financing this project with state money and the bits of profit we'll manage to save from selling our produce.”

“I'm not talking about your work ethic. I know you believe in what you're doing and willing to do whatever it takes to succeed. But your actions tonight were those of someone who's never had to take responsibility for anything she's ever done. You're not entitled to act as if you're the only one who lives on this planet. You're not alone in the world, Susannah. You're not alone in this state. You're not alone in this house. Like it or not, you have to answer to me, your father, even Maria at times, but did that even enter your head tonight? Don't answer. I'm sure it didn't.”

That speech was probably the most words she'd ever heard Boone put together at one time. She wanted to believe that he was being totally unfair, but she knew that at least part of what he said was the truth. “I told you why I didn't involve you. This was my problem.”

“And what's
my
problem?” he asked.

She squared her shoulders. “I know what you want me to say. You want me to say that
I'm
your problem.”

“Yes, because it's true. And you are your father's problem, too. Can you even begin to imagine what this stunt could have cost him in supporters? His daughter out ruining property belonging to one of Albee's main financial backers. Property that probably ninety percent of the farmers in this area depend on to survive?”

“Okay, well, yes, this could have been a disaster, but we've avoided all that.”

“Because it's still all about who you know in this town, isn't it, Susannah? And you know the sheriff and the governor and even some poor stupid patrol cop who got roped into playing nursemaid to the first family of Georgia.”

Oh, no. She was going to cry. Her eyes stung. Her nose began to run. “Don't even say that about yourself!” she admonished him. She swallowed to keep her voice from cracking. “You're not stupid, and you're certainly not a nursemaid. You're an honorable man who couldn't say no to his governor. There is no shame in that, Boone Braddock.”

She turned on the hard concrete and clasped both her hands over his forearms. Her knuckles were turning white because she was squeezing so hard, but he didn't wince. “Don't give up on me, Boone. Please.”

He stared at some faraway place in the driveway as if he were imagining himself miles from this patch of Blue Ridge land.

She reached up, cupped his chin in her hand and forced him to focus on her face. “We can do this. I promise I won't sneak out again. I won't get in trouble. I'll follow your rules. Just promise me you won't leave.”

He released a long breath. “You won't get in trouble?” He asked the question as if he didn't believe it for one minute.

“No. I swear.”

“I'm not going to leave,” he said. “That's the part I decided on the drive back. But as far as the rules go, there can be no bending, no breaking, no personal interpretations,” he said. “I don't know why your father wanted me to watch you. Maybe he was truly afraid that something might happen to you. Or maybe he was afraid that you were your own worst enemy. Either way, it all boils down to trouble. You find it. It finds you.”

“I know. But no more trouble, I promise. You may think I don't appreciate you, but I do. Because of you, our project is working, forging ahead.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Because of you, I feel safe for the first time in my life.”

A chuckle seemed to slide out of the corner of his mouth. “That may be carrying my importance a bit too far. You've grown up with security guards, a father who obviously dotes on you, a mother who...”

“That's only how it looks,” she said. “But the reality is, I grew up alone and lonely. I'm not looking for your sympathy, but that's the simple truth. My father doted on me until I was fifteen, and he decided he couldn't take another minute of my screwups. And then I was shipped off to boarding school. My mother loves me, but mostly she's amused by me. She loves when I yank Albee's chains, which really I don't do to upset him. My family is so far from the typical, normal family that we grow in Georgia. A family like the Braddocks. You don't know how lucky you are.”

He sat very still, listening.

“I used to get in trouble...”

His eyebrows rose. “Used to?”

“Okay, I used to get in trouble on purpose. I did crazy things in high school.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I remember one in particular.”

Her past went through her mind until the kiss suddenly appeared front and center. “Oh, no, not that. When I kissed you, that wasn't crazy. I had the world's number-one crush on you. You were the coolest guy in high school. You had the most friends. People worshipped you because of football. Come on, Boone, you were even president of your class.”

He looked down at his hands clasped between his knees. “All that stuff, it doesn't matter...”

“It mattered to me. I knew you were out of my league, that you had so many friends and girlfriends...”

“You thought I was out of
your
league?” His lips curved into an odd little grin she couldn't interpret.

“Of course! But I was who I was, the governor's bold teenage daughter who knew she could get out of whatever havoc she caused, so I drew you into the gym that day to...” She laughed. “...have my way with you, I guess.”

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