Homecoming Queen by Chad Boudreaux (EXCERPT)

Hello there, readers! This week we have another excerpt treat for you. Chad Boudreaux is back with another fast-paced political thriller, Homecoming Queen, publishing today. While his debut, Scavenger Hunt, was set in Washington DC’s halls of power, his sophomore novel examines small-town politics on the South Texas coast where he was born and raised.

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Time is of the essence as the hurricane of the century, predicted to obliterate everything in its path, barrels toward Anika Raven’s hometown of Miranda, Texas. But the deadly storm is not her biggest problem. Not so long ago, she was her high school’s beloved homecoming queen. Now she finds herself on the run from the law and running out of time after troubles within her disintegrating family force her to pursue vigilante justice. With the storm approaching and tensions in town increasing, factions brace for battle as Anika and her sister are caught in the middle, trying to survive.

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Read on for an excerpt from this thrilling novel!

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Anika and Sam, holding sweaty hands, walked up the creaky steps of the Alamo Opera House. Even at sunrise, the humidity held moisture like a sponge, but Anika would’ve perspired anyway. Though the sheriff’s headquarters were located in the Upper West Side of Miranda, several deputies lingered around the mayor’s office, and Anika knew there was a holding cell in the back. She had only felt this vulnerable once before, five years ago, when the terrible secret she now carried was birthed. As bad as that day was, the stakes were higher now with Sam’s welfare on the line.

…

After brief introductions, Mayor Auntie Dodd invited them into her office. The spacious area was under the same roof but set apart from the General Store. As the sisters sat in front of Dodd’s wooden desk, Anika noticed a framed remnant of the “Come and Take It” flag in the corner, several photos of children on the credenza, and a strange picture on the wall. In the picture, five men in top hats huddled around an old car that had a box on top labeled “Precinct 13.”

“Anika Raven,” she said, staring at Anika’s engagement ring. “I remember you. I presided over your graduation ceremony. Handed you an honorarium, right? Weren’t you salutatorian?”

“Valedictorian. Don’t want to boast, but—”

“No, please—brag all you want, girl! What an amazing accomplishment! I’m always happy when a woman takes home a blue ribbon. Tell me what’s going on.”

Anika scarcely began her story when, distracted, Mayor Dodd said, “Excuse me, darlin’,” and turned her attention to Sam, who was eyeing the thingamabob at the corner of her desk. “Young lady, do you know what that is?”

Samantha squeezed Faux Pooh and shook her head.

“That’s called a Rubik’s Cube,” she said, picking it up and tossing it in Sam’s lap. “You have to match all the same colors on the same sides.” Sam set aside Pooh, picked up the toy puzzle, and began fiddling with it. Only then did Mayor Dodd turn her attention back to Anika, repeatedly glancing down at her engagement ring. Something about the ring disturbed her. “Go ahead, darlin’. Sorry to interrupt.”

Anika continued her story as the mayor nodded along, cradling her “Mayor Days Be Merry and Bright” coffee mug. Occasionally, Dodd would take a note, and her squinty eyes kept darting to the Rubik’s Cube as Sam worked her tiny fingers over the square contraption. Anika took her time outlining the facts concerning their plight. She was careful to include specifics but avoid hyperbole. Meanwhile, Dodd seemed to be listening, but she was obsessed by Sam’s pursuit of matching a color on one side.

Anika’s description of events and cries of injustice, delivered with impassioned pleas, proved to be a command performance, better than anything she’d ever pulled off in Ms. Stubblefield’s tenth-grade theater class. Absolute truth often stirs convictions that are compelling and persuasive. But something was wrong. Dodd remained unmoved and unengaged. Something had her distracted or disinterested. Was it Sam’s goofing around with the toy? Was it something about Anika’s engagement ring? Did the ring remind Dodd of a bad memory, perhaps a topsy-turvy marriage?

Anika thumbed her ring, spinning the diamond toward her palm, and said, “I hope all this makes sense.” After the mayor dutifully nodded but said nothing, Anika sighed. She needed to reset the conversation. Perhaps she’d made a tactical error by foregoing the customary South Texas pleasantries and jumping right into business. “By the way,” Anika said, pointing to the strange picture on the wall, “that’s an interesting photograph. Relatives of yours?”

“That’s my dad on the left,” Dodd smiled, turning around. “He’s the landmass of a man leaning against the car. And sitting atop the car is the infamous Box 13. That box, full of ‘late-discovered votes,’ handed LBJ the democratic primary for the 1948 US Senate seat from Texas. He won by eighty-seven ‘votes’ and earned the nickname Landslide Lyndon. One hundred and ninety-eight of the two hundred ‘votes’ in the box had his name on them. Just two ‘votes’ against,” she laughed, using air quotes when she mentioned votes. “They didn’t even try to hide the corruption back then.”

“Fascinating,” Anika said. Dodd confirmed Joshua’s assessment of her. Politics made her tick. “Did that happen in Miranda?”

“Down the road in Jim Wells County. That was another era, and it’s one of the few photos that survived Hurricane Carla. Speaking of hurricanes, you weren’t here for the last one.”

“Correct, ma’am. I live in Washington, DC. Start my second year in law school at Georgetown this fall.”

“So the plan is . . . what?” the mayor asked, not impressed that Anika attended one of the top law schools in the country. “To get your law degree and return home? Use your talents to give back to your hometown? I suspect our Miranda law firms don’t pay but a fraction of the DC and New York firms.”

That line of questioning raised yellow flags. Suspecting it related to her ability to care for Sam, Anika deflected. “My future’s unclear, but one thing isn’t: I’d suspend my legal education and come home. Anything to help Sam.”

“I doubt you’d wanna drive my rusted ol’ El Camino and live in the Alamo,” she snorted. “And this job’s about as sexy as it gets in this town. Lawyers are more like servants than leaders, and few wanna be consigliere to some clown with no power.”

Anika hid her frustration. She remained focused on finding a solution for Sam, but Dodd kept talking about Anika’s career path. If she ever moved back to Miranda, she’d apply for a job with the wealthy Danforth family, but she remembered Logan’s warning not to invoke his name with the mayor. “Again, my path follows the best interest of my little sister.”

“I admire that, but I’m not sure I can help. Unfortunately, in this fallen world, kids living with substance abusers isn’t uncommon, and with no signs of physical abuse . . .”

“With all due respect, neglect is equally bad.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, sister, but rules is rules. When’s your interview with FPS?”

Anika remembered Joshua’s warning of Dodd’s penchant for bartering. She’s a political animal, and politics is her game. Her actions, albeit subtle, betrayed a woman who wanted to negotiate. The magnanimous mayor who’d started the meeting was now starting to resemble Monty Hall of Let’s Make a Deal. “Next Wednesday,” Anika answered, “and that’s too late.”

“I’ll see what I can do about moving that up. But here’s what I can’t do: I can’t keep the sheriff away from you. If Daddy calls 911, then I can find you a lawyer. Not a fancy-schmancy DC or New York lawyer, a Miranda lawyer.”

“Anything you can do is a gift,” Anika said, alarmed by the mayor’s tribalism, making sure to avoid the Freudian slip—grift.

“If I’m gonna help you, Anika, you must be honest with me. My reputation’s too valuable to be played, particularly by a flight risk. Will you be truthful about all the details related to this matter?”

At this point, Sam was going berserk with her new toy, swaying her head and making a ruckus that was borderline disrespectful. Anika placed her hand on Sam’s leg, signaling for her to quiet down, and turned her face back to Dodd. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Including details about yourself?”

Anika thought this line of probing was odd, but she had no leverage. “Of course.”

“You okay with Sam stepping out for a sec? Curtis is a good caretaker, and I’d like to speak in private.”

“Sure,” Anika said as Sam left the Rubik’s Cube on the mayor’s desk, grabbed Pooh, and walked to the door. “What’s going on?”

“This will only take a minute,” Dodd said. With the door closed and Sam in the Commons, the mayor’s eyes tightened, and her voice lowered to an intense whisper.

“This will be the last time you lie to me, Anika. Do you understand?”

Anika’s heart sank. “No, ma’am. I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

Dodd grabbed Anika’s left hand, the diamond on her engagement ring still facing her palm. “Don’t give me your ‘ma’am’ sandwiches. I’m no fool! We both know that you’re not engaged. This is all a ruse—a big lie!”

Anika pulled her hand away and recoiled. “That’s none of your business! Why would you say that?” The course of her denial was exhausted. “How did you know that?”

“It’s my job to know these things. And if you’re asking for my help, then everything about you is my business. That’s the deal—take it or leave it. I don’t do favors for liars, cheats, or charlatans.”

Anika buried her face in her hands, perplexed and ashamed, not knowing how Mayor Dodd had uncovered the falsehood of Anika’s fake fiancé. Faux Pooh was more real than her Washington beau. Left speechless, she worried that she’d squirreled away any chance of favor.

“So what’ll it be?” the mayor asked. “My way or the high—”

“Your way,” Anika said without hesitation. Her words leaped from her lips before the question ended.

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From Homecoming Queen by Chad Boudreaux. Copyright © 2024. Reprinted with permission.

Homecoming Queen by Chad Boudreaux was published today August 6 2024 by Morgan James Fiction and is available from all good booksellers, including