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"I know my subject is somewhere in the state."
Cindy VanTur's fingers rattled a jerking, uncertain beat on a small leather purse.
"But Miz VanTur," the fleshy man protested, "We have every shred of proof he's dead. Crashed in that heli-jet wreck." He nodded, his face burning with anger.
"As my subject might say in this case, Governor, bull-shit."
She rested one buttock on his desk, more than outraged at being treated like some welfare supplicant come to beg a few turnips from this redneck gas-bag. The split skirt rode up one shapely thigh, stopping just short of silk panties. His eyes glazed, trembling along its slender length. The heady aroma of her perfume made the room spin.
"Um . . . What proof have you, Miz VanTur?"
She eyed his, sent waves of heat his way, her eyes hawk-like and hungry.
"Yes. It is Mrs. VanTur, isn't it? Hmmm?" An eyebrow cocked up and the man began to show fear. Sarcastic, she said, "You might want to remember that, sir."
He sat back and wiped the sweat from his paling face.
"It is ex- Isn't it, ma'am?"
"Unfortunately. My dear ex-husband took up with a colored girl."
The governor cleared his throat. VanTur divorced the bitch and marred a black. He bit off a smile.
"However." Smiling, she leaned over the desk. "As a binding part of our marriage contract, I hold power to over half his wealth." Her smile was growing colder, and the governor's growing more strained.
She was pure bitch. But a rich one. Very rich.
He nodded. "Doesn't buy votes down here, ma'am." The hell it didn't. With her help as the poor, down-trodden wife in a failed marriage, he was a sure thing in the next election.
"My maiden name is McAllen."
He managed not to show the wince. The name McAllen bought more than votes, if a man wasn't careful.
He managed his best empty-headed vote catching smile for a member of the family that owned more politicians than even the bat man of Texas. "If I can in any way assist you, Ms McAllen -"
Without preamble she tossed a sheaf of papers on the desk.
"The subject is of a minor age. Only sixteen." She allowed herself a thin smile and sweat beaded anew on the jowled face. "He lied to get in the military." The governor leafed through the paperwork, she tapped one well manicured finger on his desk. "I need you to sign these. They're custody papers as well as release papers from the Marines." The man cocked an eye. Before he could protest, she said, "He's been in the state more than sixty days, and when that bitch -" Cindy ground her teeth together. "When his mother signed the enlistment papers he automatically became a ward of the government. All you're doing is re-assigning him to me. I assure you, it's all legal and aboveboard."
Her teeth worried at her bottom lip.
"I . . . need your help in locating my subject. It's most urgent you sign them. The marines have, shall we say, been most uncooperative."
He held up a hand, an apologetic smile crossed his face. "I am sorry. Truly sorry. But, Ms VanTur, I can in no wise see just cause in uprooting the entire state so you can get your pet back." Lacing plump brown fingers across a wide expanse of belly, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Why, your agents from the FBI, the Treasury Department, and a veritable host of other, less savory creatures, are combing the state in search of him. Are you quite certain he's here? The Corp have many bases around the country, even in America del Sud."
She leaned over the desk, her eyes wide. The odor of his cologne was overpowered by the bitter, less subtle scent of fear.
Cindy's fingernail scratched a sheet of paper out of the stack. She thrust it under his nose.
"A little something I've taken the trouble to compile on you. Sir."
She smiled, reminding him of a cat his mother once had, one that liked to play with its prey, just before the kill.
"It is an election year, sir, isn't it?"
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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