by Ann DeFee
“Are you sure you’re a defense attorney? Most of you guys want to get your clients out of jail and to heck with guilt or innocence.”
“That’s what we’re paid for. I have somewhat of a different viewpoint. If you’re guilty there’s a price to pay. I guarantee my clients a good defense but not a miracle.” The lawyer pulled out his wallet. “But just so you know you’re not getting a pig in a poke, here’s my ‘you’re a smart boy and passed the bar’ card. Just want you to be assured that I’m a bar-certified attorney.”
Jake threw up his hands. “Hey, guy. I believe you.”
“Good. Do you want to go see your cousin or do you want me to?”
“I think you should do it.” Jake didn’t know if he could visit Darrell without beating the snot out of him.
“I hate to seem avaricious, but I want to make sure that you’re paying my bill, not your cousin.”
“I’m paying.”
“Good. You’re my first football-player client. I’m a big Road Runner fan. So, what’s the next season going to be like?”
If Jake knew that, he’d hire out as a soothsayer. “I’m a bit prejudiced, but I think our offense is pretty hot.” Jake didn’t bother to say that Texas Bob might not even pick up his option. If that happened, God only knew where he’d be playing.
Cedric leaned back. “I read about the team in the sports page.” And then in a lightning-fast conversation change, he resumed his lawyer persona.
“How long are you willing to let Darrell stay in jail? Once his case goes to the judge, it’s out of our hands. Right now we have two choices. We can bail him out or we can make sure he stays where he is, at least for the time being.”
“I don’t want him in there too long.”
“In a couple of days there’ll be an arraignment. That’s when he can get out on his own recognizance. At least, that’s what I’ll argue for. If that doesn’t work, do you think he can come up with a couple of hundred, or maybe even a thousand for the bail bondsman?”
If all else failed, Dwayne could get a job. If either of the cousins asked Mom for money, Jake would kill ’em. “I think so.”
“Good. That’s our game plan. When he comes up for trial, I’ll try to get him probation. But in this state, a third DUI can land a guy in jail for six months.”
“I guess that’s a chance Darrell will have to take,” Jake said, attacking his breakfast the waitress had just delivered. “Not to be trite, but if you do the crime, you’d better be willing to do the time.”
Cedric smirked at Jake’s use of the cliché. “That’s what keeps me in business.” He stood. “I’ll call you after the arraignment.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Jake wasn’t ready to return to Camp Touchdown, so he decided to spend the night in San Antonio, relaxing and soaking up the ambience. Now that he’d decided to cut his cousins loose, he had to come up with an implementation strategy, because Darrell and Dwayne were nothing if not persistent.
And then there was the problem of his attraction to CiCi Hurst. He could tell his head that she was out of his league, but his heart and other areas had a different idea. But when had he ever followed a safe course?
It was a beautiful evening, so he was out on the balcony with a frosty margarita in one hand and a nacho in the other, watching the gondolas float down the river and the tourists enjoy their stroll down the narrow sidewalks. If he could get CiCi to join him for a romantic weekend, that would be his idea of heaven.
A soft bed, spicy food, a little bubbly and a silky female—just thinking about it turned him on. Until he envisioned Texas Bob’s ugly mug and he deflated like a three-day-old helium balloon. Plus, he could only imagine what CiCi would think if she saw where he grew up. And he wouldn’t find out unless he went back to Camp Touchdown. So his escape plans had to take a backseat to a more important goal.
Jake was almost back to the camp the next morning when his cell rang. He checked the caller ID and thought about ignoring it, but a smart guy never blew off his mother.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” He knew exactly what she wanted but it couldn’t hurt to play dumb.
Bonnie Sue Culpepper was an expert at going straight for the jugular.
“Why aren’t you bailing out your cousin?”
Dwayne must have spread the bull on nice and thick.
“If Darrell doesn’t get his act together, he’ll kill someone and I refuse to be responsible for that.”
“Oh, dear. Did he have another DUI? Dwayne didn’t tell me that.”
Jake could almost see her hand pressed against her chest.
“Dwayne told me that he got in a little bar tiff and you refused to help.”
Thank you, cousin. “Let’s be blunt—Dwayne and Darrell are pathological liars. And this is the third time this year that Darrell’s been picked up for drunk driving.”
“Oh, no,” she said with a sigh.
“Oh, yes. I got a lawyer, but Darrell’s going to have to sit in jail for a couple of days. Then he and Dwayne can figure out how to make the bail money.”
“I’m sure you know best,” his mother said, although she didn’t sound convinced.
“Mom, please don’t give them any money.”
“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”
“No, but nothing else has worked. Darrell and Dwayne have to grow up.”
“Are you coming home anytime soon?” Bonnie Sue asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll be at Camp Touchdown for another week and a half. Then I have summer training camp. I promise I’ll come by to see you soon.” He wasn’t sure when that would be, but he never broke a promise to his mom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
CiCi had been pondering the problem of Rondelle and his friends all night. True, they’d had their third strike and by all rights she should send them packing, but they’d seemed so contrite. She desperately wanted to talk to Jake, but he was in San Antonio. That left Daddy—not her first choice, but it was something she had to do.
It was eight o’clock before she made that dreaded call to Houston. The sheriff was involved in this one, and Daddy would be furious if she didn’t keep him in the loop. Marianne answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Mama. Did I call too early?”
“Are you kidding? Your daddy was up before the sun. Swear to goodness, that man makes me crazy,” she said with a laugh. “Is everything okay?” Her mom’s intuition was clearly working well.
“We’ve had a problem with some of the campers. I’d like to talk to Daddy about it.”
“Sure, I’ll get him.”
Daddy answered within thirty seconds. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”
CiCi gave him a synopsis of the teens’ antics. The camp was legally responsible for the kids—and sleazy lawyers and frivolous lawsuits were a dime a dozen—so CiCi knew that Daddy would call his attorney as soon as they disconnected.
“I’ll be there before noon. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this.” Texas Bob hung up before she could say word. But what would she say? I’m sorry, I screwed up? I’m so inept I can’t even handle a bunch of kids?
Back to the immediate problem—what would she do with the little darlings until the cavalry came to the rescue? Then it came to her. She’d bore them to death.
CiCi found Greg having breakfast with his staff. She poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “I suppose you’ve all heard about what happened.”
From the sheepish looks, CiCi knew that Rondelle and crew had been the topic of breakfast conversation.
“Yes, ma’am, we certainly did.” A petite counselor was the first to speak up.
“I have an idea.” CiCi didn’t know if this would work, but it was all she had.
“What is it?” Greg asked.
“I think they need some intensive academics. Something they’ll find really tedious. I’m talking a couple of days of sheer, agonizing boredom.” She flashed a perky smile she didn’t feel. “Does an
yone have a suggestion?”
“Math.” That suggestion was offered by a lanky criminal justice major.
“Oh, yes,” the petite blonde dance major concurred. “That stuff puts me to sleep.”
“Do we have any math majors?” CiCi had to squelch a laugh when Greg raised his hand. He looked like a math geek.
“Looks like you’re elected. We’ll offer them a day of trying to figure out if train A leaves station C fifteen minutes before train B leaves station D, and then factor in X miles per hour to decide which one gets to point E first.”
Greg looked a bit green, but like a good boy, he agreed. “Okay, I’m game. I hope this works.”
“So do I,” CiCi agreed. “So do I.”
IT WAS ALMOST TIME FOR LUNCH when Texas Bob and Mackenzie roared up in a brand-new black Hummer.
Mac hopped out of the truck and grabbed her sister in a hug that almost took CiCi’s breath away. For a tiny little thing, she could give a major-league hug.
“When Daddy said he was driving up, I decided to come along.”
“He told you what’s happening, right?”
Mac made a face. “Yeah. He’s already made an appointment with the sheriff, and he spent almost an hour on the phone with Jameson.” Jameson Swift was the Hurst family lawyer and the attorney for the foundation. “He thinks our liability is limited because we provide adequate supervision. You and I both know those kids are sneaky little devils.”
Mac had pegged that one right.
“Where did Daddy go?”
Mac pointed in the direction of the main lodge where Greg was conducting his algebra seminar in the dining hall—complete with whiteboard and dry-erase markers. “He said he’s going to have a chat with the kids.”
CiCi sprinted off, hoping to catch Texas Bob before he blew his stack. Much to her surprise, she found him talking quietly to the teens. And even more startling, they seemed to be listening.
She sat down to hear what he had to say. Texas Bob could spin a tall tale with the best of them. According to him he’d had to walk two miles uphill each way to school—in the snow. Oh, puleeze, the man grew up in South Texas. His next white lie was that he started with nothing but a dream and ten bucks in his pocket. Grandma Hurst would bust a gut on that one. He went on to say that if he could make something of himself, the boys could, too.
Texas Bob ended his talk with, “I know this was your third strike, and letting you off probably isn’t a smart idea. But you caught me on a good day. However—” he glared at each kid separately “—this is a one-time deal. Sorta like the red-light special sales at my car lot. You screw this up and you’re gone. You won’t ever be able to come back. Got it?”
The kids nodded. They were getting good at that nod ding thing.
“Glad to hear it. I’m countin’ on ya. I know you won’t let me down. Right?”
Rondelle was the first to speak. “Yes, sir. We understand.” He looked at his compatriots. They all gave an affirmative thumbs-up. Texas Bob might look like a big teddy bear, and he might act like a buffoon sometimes, but he wasn’t anyone’s fool.
“Now I’m taking my girls to lunch. CiCi, where’s your sister?”
“She’s outside.” Lunch? Was that a euphemism for having a chat with the sheriff?
The minute they walked out the door, Texas Bob reverted to Winston Hurst—all business. “Where’s Culpepper?”
“He said there was a family emergency so he went to San Antonio last night.”
“He’d better not be pulling a fast one.”
“I don’t think so. He was really upset when he left.”
Daddy shrugged. “In that case I guess it’s okay. We’re meeting Sheriff Johnson at the Starlight Diner.” He gave his daughter a wink. “They have the best chicken-fried steak I’ve ever put in my mouth. And you know I parley a whole lot better when I’m full. It never hurts to have a good relationship with the law.” Actually, he negotiated quite well under any circumstance.
On impulse, CiCi kissed her dad’s cheek. “I love you, Daddy. I’m sorry things got so messed up. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
Texas Bob put his hands on her shoulders. She was tall, but he still had six inches on her. “Sweetheart, you’ve never disappointed me. I’m so proud of my girls I almost pop my buttons every time I see one of you.” He emphasized that by squeezing her tight.
So that’s where Mac had learned to do the bear hug.
WHILE TEXAS BOB AND THE SHERIFF were talking, CiCi and Mac indulged in a girl chat.
“Do you know why Jake went to San Antonio?” Mac asked.
“Not really. He said he had a family emergency and I believe him.” There was that niggle of a doubt, but even if he had a harem of curvaceous women why should it matter to her?
Mac obviously realized this wasn’t a safe topic, so she went on to another. “I can’t wait until you get home. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
CiCi was also in need of sisterly venting, but she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. All her thoughts were about Jake Culpepper. The problem was she didn’t exactly know what to say. Was she the victim of unrequited lust or was it something more profound?
The only interest Jake had shown in her was some flirting and a couple of kisses. Fine, so they’d made out in the kitchen but that didn’t mean they had a relationship.
She had only a few days left to make Jake want her, or fall in love with her, or whatever. Wait a minute! She’d been there and done that—married a jock who got tons of female attention, and had her heart broken. Sheesh! She was losing her mind again.
“I’ll be home soon. We can get caught up on all my gossip then.” That should give her some breathing room. “So what do you want to talk to me about? I’m dying of curiosity.”
Mac was a true blonde with the tendency to blush. And when she did, it was something to behold. Her normal alabaster skin didn’t turn a nice rosy pink. On the contrary, she was the only person CiCi had ever known who could actually get fire-engine red.
“Good Lord. What’s the problem?” She hoped it wasn’t what she was thinking
“You remember when I told you about my Starbucks dates with Cole?” Mac answered, somehow managing to get redder by the minute.
CiCi was almost afraid to ask. “Did something else happen?”
“Not exactly.” Mac’s hesitancy told her everything she didn’t want to know. “So what exactly did you do?” She held her hands up like a Stop sign. “Wait. I don’t want any specifics.”
“It’s probably what you think.” Mac rubbed her forehead. “I do need some advice. But it can wait until you get home. I’m not planning to do anything silly in the meantime.”
Thank God! Of all the people who shouldn’t get involved with an athlete, Mac was at the top of the list.
But who was she to talk? Her name would be in the number two spot.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was almost noon the next day before CiCi saw Jake pull into the camp driveway and head straight for his cabin. He was normally upbeat, but when he left for a run just a few minutes after his arrival he seemed ready to chew nails. Whatever was happening wasn’t good.
Almost two hours later, CiCi wandered down to the river and saw Jake sitting under the big oak. Against her better judgment, she strolled out to join him. This was either going to be the biggest mistake of her life or the best thing she’d ever done.
Jake was at the picnic table with his head in his hands, the picture of dejection. His hair was still wet from a shower.
“Do you want some company?” she asked, still not sure she was doing the right thing.
“Yeah, sure.” He scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
This was a pregnant pause if ever CiCi had known one. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Jake glanced at her almost as if he’d forgotten she was sit ting there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude when I left without any explanation. I had some family stuff to ta
ke care of.”
It didn’t appear he was going to elaborate so it was up to CiCi to keep the conversation going. “Daddy and Mac drove up yesterday.”
“They did?” That got his attention.
“He said he wanted to talk to the sheriff about Rondelle and the others, but I suspect he wanted to see how I was doing. He’s a bit overprotective.”
Jake laughed. “You don’t say!”
He laughed—that was encouraging.
“I think he’d like to have us cloistered. Heaven help Molly when she hits her teens.”
Jake shot her an assessing look. “You’re lucky to have such a nice family.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Although I’m not sure nice describes Texas Bob, but I suppose he tries.”
“He really is a kind man, although he can be a bit over the top.”
CiCi didn’t know what to say next, so she welcomed the silence.
Jake was the first to speak. “My mom was a single parent. She worked two jobs to keep us afloat. Regardless of how much we were struggling she gladly took in my two cousins when their mother dumped them. She couldn’t bear to see them lost in the foster system, especially when there were relatives who could do the job. She never had it easy, but now that I have money, she has a nice home and no financial worries.”
“That’s kind of you.” CiCi didn’t know where this was going, so she kept her response brief.
“I went to San Antonio because my cousin Darrell was in jail and I needed to talk to an attorney.”
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“He’s stupid, that’s what happened.”
For a moment CiCi thought he’d leave it at that. Then he continued with his story.
“Darrell has a drinking-and-driving problem and he got busted for the third time. I decided that instead of bailing him out, I’d leave him in jail for a while. Once he goes to court, it’s out of my hands.” Jake turned to look at her. “Personally, I think he needs to get scared silly.”
CiCi reached for his hand. She could tell that his decision, right or wrong, was weighing on him.