The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn. Liz JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
“That’s wonderful. How soon do you think?”
“I think we can start moving forward now. It should take us just a couple of months to get things in place in the other prisons, as we have such a strong example to work from with the test program here at the Evergreen complex.”
“That’s wonderful, Mac!” Kenzie’s smile was so wide it almost hurt her cheeks. With the expanded program, the state might be able to set aside a little more for her own classes. She opened her mouth to ask Mac just that, but stopped herself when she looked at Ryker. He’d warned her not to discuss the budget with Mac, but sometimes she had to physically restrain herself from asking for just a little more money. When Candace called to him, Mac hurried across the room, grabbing the cell phone she held.
Kenzie looked at JB’s surly face and wondered if he might answer some of her questions. He hated talking budget. “We don’t talk budgets, except at budget meetings,” he had said on her first day. “And we don’t discuss budgets with anyone outside of prison, including family. Including your grandfather. If Mac increased the budget at your request, his opponents could claim he gave you preferential treatment. That could damage his chances in another run for the governor’s office.” His hard glare had been stern, almost cruel, and she shivered even now at the mere possibility that she could hinder Mac’s chances at reelection.
With Mac on the other side of the room, she seized what might be her only chance to talk with JB alone. Regardless of her apprehension toward JB, this would help her students and other prisoners.
“If the program is ready to expand already, do you think the state legislature might be able to increase funding for us just a bit? I worked out some figures, and raising our budget by just fifteen percent could increase the number of students we can accommodate by over twenty-five percent.” JB stared back at her blankly. Keeping her voice low, she plowed on. “I’m planning on petitioning the legislature next month for an increase in the budget for the next fiscal year.”
JB’s face twisted slightly. “What’s wrong?” Kenzie asked.
“Oh, nothing,” he said gruffly, his eyes darting quickly in Mac’s direction.
“What’s going on?”
JB sighed. “I know Mac doesn’t want to bring this up, but this governor’s race is getting sticky. Things are being said by his opponent.”
Suddenly Mac was back by her side, and she turned to look at him, praying that things were not going wrong. “What is your opponent saying, Mac?” He shook his head, but she squeezed his hand tightly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Claudia Suarez has purchased some advertising that makes me out to be something of a crook. She says I haven’t been completely responsible with the state’s budget.”
“But it’s not true! Just tell them that it’s not true.” Tears filled Kenzie’s eyes, and she knuckled them away angrily.
“It’s not that easy, sweetheart. The voters are going to believe what they believe. But this could be a closer race than we thought.”
Men in orange jumpsuits suddenly began filing into the room, taking their assigned seats. The men nearest to her sat staring at their hands folded on the table. None of them said anything or looked at her, Mac or JB. Taking advantage of the men’s lack of attention, she blinked rapidly and rubbed black smudges of mascara onto her fingers from her bottom eyelids.
“I have another class to teach, Mac, but I’ll see you tonight, right? We’ll finish talking about this?”
He shot a glance at Candace, who checked her calendar then nodded. “Of course. I’ll take you out for a steak after you finish with this class. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got it all under control.” He squeezed her shoulder, winked at her, then followed JB toward the door. Somehow, that was all it took to reassure her that everything was right with the world.
“What looks good?” Mac said, sitting across the table from Kenzie that night.
“Maybe the prime rib with steamed vegetables.”
“Hmm. That does sound good. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good T-bone and baked potato.”
“Nana hasn’t made you any lately?” Kenzie asked. It seemed a bit strange for Mac to not have a good steak and potatoes regularly. Her grandmother was a wonderful cook and had created an amazing pineapple-chipotle marinade that Mac loved.
When Kenzie was growing up in Mac and Nana’s home, Nana loved to cook for the three of them. Each evening meal was a special event, with delicious food and close conversation around the dining-room table. Those nights provided the stability that Kenzie craved after her parents’ deaths. At the age of five she had struggled to understand, to accept what was really happening. Her father, Mackenzie Thorn II, was an avid pilot. He and her mother, Grace, loved to fly together, traveling the country.
It had only taken one plane crash to leave her an orphan. And in Kenzie’s childhood mind, it only took two of her grandmother’s meals to know that she wouldn’t have to be alone again. Mac and Nana took her into their home and loved her as their own daughter through grade school, high school, college and beyond.
“We’ve both been very busy lately,” Mac said in response to Kenzie’s question.
“Where is Nana?” It seemed strange to Kenzie that Nana would choose not to accompany Mac on a trip.
Just then the waiter arrived to take their orders—and just as quickly disappeared.
When it appeared that Mac had forgotten the question, she asked again. “Where’s Nana? I haven’t seen her in almost six weeks.” Living in Evergreen, close to the prison—but a two-hour drive from Salem—Kenzie often missed seeing her grandmother regularly.
“Oh, she…she decided not to come on this trip. It’s mostly just meetings and election items on my agenda. Your grandmother would have been bored, tagging along on this trip.” Mac cleared his throat and adjusted his silverware. He seemed a bit stiff, oddly uncertain of himself.
He was probably worried about his opponent, Claudia Suarez.
Kenzie reached out and covered Mac’s weathered hand with her own, much smaller one. “You’re thinking about Claudia Suarez, aren’t you?”
Mac looked a little bit guilty. “I’m afraid so. I can’t stop wondering what her advertising lies will do to my election.”
“But she can’t just lie and get away with it, can she?”
Mac’s broad shoulders beneath his suit jacket rose and fell with his sigh. “No, she can’t outright lie. But there’s nothing stopping her from twisting the truth and making it look like I’m not doing my job, or have taken advantage of my position.”
“But you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the state of Oregon! Just think about how much this prison education reform is helping the inmates and their families on the outside.”
A broad grin spread across Mac’s lips. “Thanks for the support, honey.” He squeezed her hand, and in that moment, Kenzie was never more proud to carry his name.
“Now,” he said, suddenly looking stern, “your grandmother tells me that you met a young man.”
Kenzie burst into laughter, her cheeks turned a bit red as she answered Mac’s questions about her virtually nonexistent dating life. The only men she had time for these days were her students.
Like Myles Parsons.
Something about the inmate intrigued her. His arrogant smirk and cocky attitude warned her that he could be trouble if she wasn’t careful. But the unsteady rhythm of her heart during their first encounter hinted that he already affected her more than she cared to admit.
Mac’s brow wrinkled. “You know, if you moved to Salem, there would be more single men for your consideration. And I can