Chapter 1

"I don't want to hear any more arguments, Randall! You're staying with Jack and Rita while I'm away and that's final. Live with it!"

"C'mon, Mom! Jeez, I'm almost seventeen years old. There's no way I need a baby sitter. Why can't I just stay home by myself?"

Janice Turley put the pot she'd been scrubbing in the drain rack and turned to face her recalcitrant son who, at a lanky six foot two, towered over her. "Let's see now; maybe it's because you don't have such a great history when it comes to controlling your impulses. I seem to recall something about a trashed apartment and an empty liquor cabinet when I got back home from last year's conference. Gee, does that ring any bells?"

Randall threw his hands in the air and complained, "Aren't you ever gonna give that a rest? Kids grow up, Mom! Didn't you ever do anything dumb when your were a teenager?"

"Sure I did and my mom and dad did just what I'm doing right now; they put the brakes on my independence until they thought I was grown up enough to make better decisions. So far, I'm not convinced you've reached that plateau so you might as well start packing, mister!"

"Fuck!" Knowing there was no way he was going to changing her mind, Randall smacked the countertop with his palm and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Watch you language, potty-mouth!"

Janice had always been the disciplinarian in the family and Rob Turley, her husband and Randall's father had been the boy's go-to guy for support, someone he could count on to take his side. Usually. But Rob Turley was currently in year two of a four-year stretch in a white-collar detention center for his part in a shady investment scheme.

Everybody who was at all familiar with the case knew very well that he was the least culpable of the traders indicted in the investment scam targeted by the SEC but it's no secret that prosecutors will invariably go for the low-hanging fruit when they can't get their mitts on the higher-ups who are more politically connected. As a result, not only was Rob doing time, practically everything he owned that might have been purchased with his ill-gotten gains was confiscated by the feds.

It was fortunate that Janice not only had a profession of her own (nurse-anesthetist) but that she kept a separate bank account that was out of the reach of the government guys. She and Randall moved away from the exclusive neighborhood a month after Rob turned himself over to the U.S. Marshals to begin his sentence. They did that for several reasons but chief among them were the stares and behind-the-back whispers of people she once thought of as friends and the simple fact that the house, furnishings and automobiles were the property of the Federal Government and would soon be on the auction block.

For a short time, Janice and Randall lived with her brother, Jack and his wife, Rita. They got along well but that kind of imposition can't go on for very long before tensions begin to grow. Within a week of the move, Janice found a position with a private hospital in Omaha then quickly found an apartment for the two of them. They'd lived with their relatives for less than a month.

Now, a year and a half later, Janice was once again financially solvent and they were settled into a relatively normal life. She was recognized for her skills and her value to the medical center and was often sponsored to professional conferences and workshops. That's where she was headed now, to San Francisco for a two-week course on the latest and greatest anesthetic meds and induction methods.

Rita met them at the door. "Hey, guys, come on in! Randall, you get the same bedroom as before so you can go ahead and haul your stuff upstairs."

"Thanks, Aunt Rita. I'll try not to be a bother."

"Pish n' tosh, Randall! You've never been a bother and you know Jack and I love having you here. We'll have a ball for the next two weeks and we'll keep it a secret from your mom."

Janice laughed and cautioned her sister-in-law, "You probably don't know what you just opened yourself up to. My dear son has a tendency to take statements like that literally."

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"

"No, I'd better not. Traffic is heavy this morning so maybe I'd better be on my way to the airport. Give me a kiss, Randall." A peck on the cheek and she was off.

As soon as the door closed, Randall asked, "Is Jack around or is he on the road again?"

"He's on his way to St. Louis with a load of something-or-other but he aught to be home by tomorrow afternoon. Why don't you get settled in your room and then we'll figure out what to do with rest of the day."

Chapter 2 »