Barbara Boswell - Who's The Boss?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Cade sink into his desk chair. She walked unsteadily to the window and touched her forehead to the cool glass.

“Bobbie says it’s an emergency and she must speak to you immediately,” Donna stated.

“An emergency?” Kylie snapped to attention. She turned around, her eyes widened with alarm.

“Don’t worry, it’s probably nothing serious. Everything is an emergency to Bobbie.” Cade heaved a groan. “The cornerstones of her personality are hysterics and vengeance, and one fuels the other.”

“I told Bobbie you were in an important conference and couldn’t be interrupted but needless to say, she refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer,” Donna continued. “She threatened to come down and break into your office with a hatchet if she had to. I decided we’d better not risk it.”

“We’ve learned the hard way that ignoring Bobbie is not the way to go,” Cade said tightly.

“Do you really think Aunt Bobbie would hatchet her way into your office?” Kylie was incredulous.

“There is already a long list of outrageous things Bobbie has done, when thwarted. Taking a hatchet to my office door would not be a stretch for her.”

“Get ready, Cade,” Donna warned. She sounded like a pilot announcing an emergency landing. “I’m putting her call through on speaker phone right now.”

“Cade!” Bobbie Brennan’s shriek filled the office.

Nails on a chalkboard sounded euphonious in comparison. Kylie. flinched.

“Brent is in jail!” Bobbie screamed. “They set bail at twenty-five thousand dollars! A fortune!”

“Remember that you pay a bail bondsman ten percent which is twenty-five hundred dollars, Bobbie,” Cade reminded her.

“I don’t have that kind of money for a bail bondsman. It may as well be twenty-five million! What are we going to do, Cade? Oh, this couldn’t have come at a worse time! I’m all out of patience with Brent, this time he’s gone too far!” Bobbie’s tone grew even more vitriolic. “It’s all Artie’s fault, damn him! He’s a terrible father, he’s the cause of all Brent’s problems.”

“Tell me why Brent is in jail, Bobbie. What are the charges against him?” Cade had to ask three times before she stopped yelling long enough to hear him

“I wrote down what the cop said, but I’m crying too hard to read my writing.” Bobbie sobbed noisily.

“Shall I call Artie and ask him?” Cade asked.

“No! That loser is the reason Brent is in jail.” Bobbie’s sobs instantly ceased. “Brent has been charged with second degree burglary. You see, Artie rented out the basement of his house to this nasty young couple—I told him not to do it!—and Brent put a video camera behind a two-way mirror with a hole in it so he could tape that couple in their bedroom.”

“Tape them without their consent?” interrupted Cade.

“So they say.” Bobbie gave a very audible sniff. “They claimed they noticed a light in the mirror and investigated it and found the hidden camera, then called the police.”

“Did Brent say why he was taping this couple?” Cade asked, grimacing.

“He—Brent—said he was going to turn the tape into a movie.” Bobbie’s voice grew lower. “You know, like one of those art films.”

“An art film,” Cade echoed flatly. “Just a minute, Bobbie.” He switched off the phone. “Well, this is a new one. Brent, with art film aspirations.”

“More than likely, he planned to sell the tapes to one of those places that pays for privately made porn videos,” Kylie murmured. “In Philadelphia, a copy could go for as high as five hundred dollars.”

“Does Bobbie have her facts straight? Granted, what Brent did is sleazy and illegal but is it really burglary?”

“It sure is.” Kylie nodded her assent. “We’ve tried similar cases. Second-degree burglary covers unauthorized filming of individuals.”

“That sleazy little jerk has outdone himself this time.” Cade’s expression was equal parts disgust and impatience. He switched Bobbie back on. “Have you called an attorney for Brent, Bobbie?”

“Of course not!” she howled. “I called you! We have to get Brent out of jail right away, Cade. You know what can happen to a good-looking boy like him in a place like that!”

“You’ve seen too many prison movies, Bobbie. Nothing is going to happen to Brent in the Port McClain lockup.” Cade’s tone was both firm and reassuring. “Besides, he’s spent time there before. Remember the last time he was arrested? We decided that sitting in that cell would be a good lesson for him. He spent a week there and it didn’t hurt him a bit. In fact, he’s stayed out of trouble until now, nearly two years later, and that’s a record for him.”

“I hoped he was finally growing up. I was going to ask you to give him another chance at BrenCo.” Bobbie began weeping again.

“Bobbie, you know what Gene said. No more chances for Brent at BrenCo. It was even written in his will. I won’t hire Brent for a job here, no matter what,” Cade added with absolute finality.

“Maybe you would if Brent got himself together,” countered Bobbie, ignoring Cade’s absolute finality. “Damn Artie! He had to go and rent out the basement! You can be sure we didn’t see a dime of that couple’s rent money, Artie kept it all for himself. Cade, I can’t afford to bail out Brent and I don’t know if Artie will do it or not.”

“Then Brent can stay in jail till his hearing, Bobbie. He’s not a child, and he shouldn’t expect his parents to bail him out—literally—every time he gets into trouble.” Cade caught Kylie’s eye. She nodded her agreement

“Whose side are you on?” Bobbie swung from sorrow to rage. “Artie’s? He doesn’t care if Brent rots in jail, either!” In the next breath, her tone turned whiney. “Did you remember that Brenda and I have to take Starr Lynn to the regional novice competition in Detroit next week? We’ll have expenses—food and gas and the motel. And Starr Lyna needs an extra special skating costume. We found one that is absolutely perfect for her. It costs six hundred fifty dollars, plus tax.”

“Six hundred fifty dollars for an ice-skating costume for a twelve-year-old is ridiculous, Bobbie,” Cade said calmly.

“It’s not unreasonable, some of the girls have costumes that cost nine hundred fifty. Are you going to help us or not, Cade?” demanded Bobbie. “I can always send Brenda over to your place tonight to—”

“No, not Brenda!” Cade said so fervently that Kylie was instantly on alert. She studied him even more closely. “Look, Bobbie, let me make a few phone calls about Brent. Meanwhile, promise me you’ll at least look for another costume for Starr Lynn. You have a week till the competition.”

“We’ll look, but I doubt that we’ll find anything else so perfect for Starr Lynn. And she deserves the best, Cade. Even you know that. Call me tonight about Brent.” Bobbie hung up abruptly and with such force that the sound of the receiver slamming echoed throughout the office.

“Good Lord!” breathed Kylie.

“Don’t drag Him into it,” Cade said dryly. “Well, Ms. Public Defender, feel like taking your cousin’s case?”

“I’m not a member of the Ohio Bar. I can’t practice law in this state unless I’m granted reciprocity.”

“Which you haven’t even applied for?” guessed Cade. “Smart move on your part. Defending your cousin Brent would be as thankless a job as your last one.”

Kylie ignored the dig. “Why did Aunt Bobbie dump Brent’s arrest on you?” she asked curiously. “What are you supposed to do about it? And what’s all this about a six-hundred-dollar skating costume?”

“Six-fifty, plus tax.” Cade rubbed the back of his neck, then heaved a resigned sigh. “Even though you aren’t licensed to practice here, you fire questions like a professional inquisitor.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t mind answering them?” she prompted.

“Let me tell you a little about the Brennans of Port McClain, Kylie. At any given time, one of them is either feuding with another or feels miffed or snubbed or cheated in some way. They’ve made a life-style of backstabbing and bickering.”

“And being thrown in jail?”

“So far, jail has been the sole province of your cousin Brent, a fact for which we can all be grateful. The reason I’m so knowledgeable about the Brennans and why my number is programmed into Bobbie’s phone is because your uncle Gene annointed me Alpha Male of the clan. Gene’s brothers and their wives and kids were always trying to drag him into their civil wars, and it bothered him so much that he delegated his patriarch position to me. Gene was very good at delegating,” he added wryly.

“So you not only run BrenCo, you also mediate family feuds?”

“I’ve had far more success managing the company than I’ve had trying to keep peace among the Brennans. Reaching a consensus among that group is harder than getting a unanimous vote in the UN General Assembly.”

“I know that Uncle Artie and Aunt Bobbie’s divorce was very bitter,” Kylie murmured. “That’s really all I know about it.”

The Brennan extended family had played only a minor role in the lives of her very mobile, very nuclear family—which made it both strange and awkward that she was now involved via Uncle Gene’s will.

“Wish I could say the same,” growled Cade. “Well, let me bring you up to date. Artie and Bobbie have been divorced fifteen—or is it sixteen?—years but are still deeply entrenched in each other’s lives. They are one of those tiresome couples who are eternally obsessed with each other.”

“Obsessed with making each other miserable?”

Cade nodded. “They’re masters of the art. I suppose you could say that Brent’s problems are the result of his dysfunctional family but he’s no longer a troubled teen, he’s twenty-seven years old. I consider him to be fully responsible for his own actions.”

“I agree,” said Kylie.

He looked surprised. “I thought a bleeding heart type like you would drag out the crying towel and use Brent’s unhappy childhood and his battling parents to excuse him.”

“Maybe I would, if I were defending him in court. But since I’m not...” Kylie’s voice trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid. “I haven’t seen Brent in years. But I do have an indelible memory of him from when we were kids. He lured me into the attic of Uncle Gene’s house by telling me that our grandmother had a trunk filled with dolls there. When I looked into the trunk, he shoved me in and locked it. I don’t think he had any intention of ever letting me out.”

“Ah, Brennan family fun.” Cade smiled sardonically. “See what you missed by not growing up here in Port McClain with the rest of the tribe? How did you get out of the trunk, by the way?”

“Lucky for me, my brother noticed I wasn’t around and figured that Brent had something to do with it. Devlin persuaded Brent to admit it and lead him to me ”

“Dare I ask how Devlin persuaded Brent?”

“He, uh, punched Brent in the nose,” Kylie confessed sheepishly. “And broke it.”

“Ah, bullying. As I mentioned earlier, it works well with certain Brennans. And I like the irony of Devlin’s progression from breaking bones to setting bones as his life’s work. That little bit of family history does explain why both Artie and Bobbie refer to your brother as ‘that thug.’ It’s one of the few things they agree on.”

“My mom and dad refer to Brent as ‘that monster.’ After the trunk incident, whenever we came to visit in Port McClain our parents kept Dev and me away from Brent. And after Uncle Artie and Aunt Bobbie’s divorce, we didn’t see much of Brenda or Bridget, either.”