Page 57 of Daddy, Sir

“Miss Flanagan, it’s not illegal to write bad poetry…”

“But it’s threatening!”

Interrupting him only resulted in his hand lifting and his jowls shaking as he gave me a disapproving look and continued, “Threatening in what way? Have you done something you feel needs… what were the words used?” Fat fingers pushed the papers around until he found what he wanted. “Let’s see now. Sin, redemption, atonement.” The springs of his chair objected as his large girth settled deeper.“Sounds to me like someone is attempting to help you, Miss Flanagan. Instead of thinking some monster is lying in wait, perhaps you ought to consider the poet as a righteous person attempting to help you find the right path.”

I almost looked around to see if this was one of those reality shows. You know, where a fake office is set up and staffed by actors to perform some scenario so outlandish that one is left completely flabbergasted until the host, John Quiñones,jumps out and informs you you’re on camera for his show, asking, “What Would You Do?”.

I didn’t particularly care what audiences thought of my performance or the delivery of my lines because I’d spoken nothing but the truth and continued to do so by stating, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! How in the hell did anyone so inept ever qualify to be an officer of the law?”

I figured the flush that crept up from the collar of his shirt to color his florid skin even redder had little to do with having the grace to be ashamed and far more to do with having his intelligence insulted.

Sheriff Sherman’s eyes narrowed as his breathing rate increased. Sitting forward, he made sure I saw his hand swipe across the shield on his shirt. Any semblance of compassion was replaced by contempt. “Don’t think I’m not aware of what you do for a living. I’m not so inept I can’t connect the dots. I was dealing with actual crimes when you were nothing but a thought in your daddy’s loins. Little lady, I suggest you stop wasting my valuable time and use that time to consider what you’re doing that has your very soul in question.”

I was so livid, I saw red. The metal chair fell backward when I jumped up to slam my palm on his desk. “It’s not my damn soul I’m worried about you-you… you misogynistic asshole, it’s my life!”

I paused in the telling of my morning’s activities to take a breath. Neither Landon nor Audra had interrupted me even once.

“Is that all?” Landon asked.

My nod cut off mid-bob as I remembered something else. “Well, he did threaten to arrest me for supposedlyderiding his authoritybut when I held out my wrists to be cuffed, stating if he felt it was necessary, he might want to brush off the donut crumbs on his shirt and brush up on the law as cases based on arresting someone for simply questioning an officer’s authority have consistently been shut down by the Supreme Court.” I shrugged, lifted my wrists and wiggled them. “As you can see, he decided his easiest course was to have me escorted out of the station.”

This time the pause came with a small snort of laughter. “I suppose he helped me in a way. If he hadn’t ordered someone to personally make sure I actually left the premises, then I wouldn’t have met Deputy Greene who pressed a card in my hand before opening the exit door. He told me perhaps I could find what I needed at the address on the card. And, well, as you can see, here I am.”

“Girl, I want to be likeyouwhen I grow up. It sounds like this Sheriff Sherman needs to have a bit of arse-kicking as well.”

“Though I might agree it would be fun, I’m afraidassaultis an arrestable offense,” Landon said. “And remind me to thank Stephen for the referral the next time we meet,” he added before reaching toward the phone on his desk and pressing a button.

“What’s up?”

The voice wasn’t familiar, thank god, as I don’t think I could have handled running into another blast from my past, but it was definitely male.

“Grab whoever’s in house and meet me in the conference room. We’ve got a client who is going to need Level One assistance.”

“You’ve got it, be there in five.”

I was rather impressed if I did say so myself. Landon hadn’t been lying. Evidently there were additional members of the firm he could call up on a moment’s notice.

“So I guess you really are the boss,” I said.

“No.”

His answer was immediate and also instantly confusing. I looked at Audra. “But you said this isn’t your office, and you”—I glanced back at Landon—“said it’s yours. You’re not making sense. You mention others, you just talked to one on the phone. You mentioned you had a team?—”

“All that is true and we do. As a team, we are equal.”

“Like the employees of Starbucks? You decide to go to work there so you can get a slice of the pie?”

“Not exactly. Six of us formed the company when we all discovered we had a common goal.” His gaze flicked to Audra and I instantly knew there was more to that story than was being said. I also knew I wouldn’t ask because something told me it wasn’t a pretty tale. Instead, I remained quiet, waiting for Landon to pick up the conversation, which he did after looking back to me.

“We wanted to do whatever we could to keep people safe. The rest of our staff came on as we realized there was more business than we could handle alone. People who do the paperwork, wade through law books, or do whatever research is required. That sort of thing. We all have military service in common and understand the importance of a chain of command. Depending on the job, we decide which one will be team leader. Still, everyone here has the same mission. To protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

The sign outside the building’s door popped into my head. “Is that why you named the company Citadel? It’s a sanctuary of sorts?”

This time it was Audra who answered.

“It’s sanctuary and more. From the moment we formed, our main goal has been to offer protection for the good people.”

Our. Which meant she was one of the founders.The way she said it had me asking another question. “And what happens to the bad people?”

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