The Drakes of California
The officer spoke without looking up. “She said speed had nothing to do with the accident. As you just stated, she mentioned the dog.”
“Doesn’t surprise me that she’d try and skirt responsibility for this. But you ticketed her, right?”
“Didn’t get the chance. The medics feared a concussion and wanted to get her to the hospital as soon as possible. That’s necessary so that a more serious injury can be ruled out.”
“But she is going to receive a citation, correct? I don’t want her getting away with this, and I definitely want her held accountable for all repair costs.”
The officer looked at the wrecked classic. “That’s got to hurt,” he acknowledged with a shake of his head. “What is that, a Chevy?”
Not a comment to normally make one want to punch a guy, but at the moment that’s how Ike felt. Warren’s chuckle compounded his anger. Thankfully it also diverted his mind from going fisticuffs, which Ike had never done in his life. The stress, no doubt, had allowed the uncharacteristic thought to surface, even momentarily. It wasn’t illegal not to be a car enthusiast. Of course, one couldn’t go to jail for not answering a stupid question, either.
“How is this going to be handled?” he asked instead.
“Well, I’m going to take a look around and investigate the scene, find out if there are any other witnesses and turn in a report based on those findings. If you ask me, though, worse things can happen than to get tangled up with a pretty little thing like the gal driving that Corvette. Who knows, she might be open to some kind of...negotiation. Know what I mean?”
“No, Officer Morris,” Ike said, crossing his arms as he checked the young man’s badge. “Why don’t you explain it to me exactly?”
Officer Morris suddenly became very interested in the fine print of the report he held in his hand as a healthy shade of red crept from his neck to his chin.
“I suggest your investigation of this accident be a thorough and accurate one, because I’m going to contact a good friend who happens to be chief of police and ask him to take a personal interest in this matter and ensure that justice is served.”
“Will do, Mister—” Officer Morris looked down at the paper “—Drake. Um, right. I’ll be sure to take witness statements and record everything as accurately as possible.”
“You do that. And keep me posted on the outcome. I’m not letting her off the hook for this. Having no consequences for past rash actions is probably why she’s so careless today.”
By now tow trucks were on the scene. Ike walked over to the driver closest to his car and gave him a card to the garage where his car had been restored. “Be very careful,” he warned the freckle-faced young man. “As damaged as it is, that car is still my baby.”
The two brothers turned toward where Warren’s truck was parked. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Ike nodded. “I’m fine.”
They reached the truck and got inside. “Where to?” Warren asked his brother.
Ike looked at his watch. “Home, I guess. There aren’t any other meetings scheduled or urgent business matters at the office, so I may just as well work from there.” For a minute they rode in silence. “What were you doing away from the office?”
“I wrapped up work early and was headed home for the day. Charli’s been getting on me about increasing my daddy duties and helping out more. I told her to get a nanny, but she refuses. Says nobody else is going to tell her daughter what to do.”
“Did you ask if that included you?”
“No, but I probably should.” The brothers laughed. “She’s an amazing wife and a fantastic mother, but a little overprotective. And speaking of which, you know when Mom finds out about this she’s going to want you checked out.”
“I’ll call my doctor and, if he thinks it necessary, have him stop by.”
“Good idea. Though I’m sure that seeing your Ferrari smashed up hurt worse than any physical injury would.”
Warren, three years younger than Ike and a lot like their grandfather Walter, was the only other brother who had an appreciation for classic cars.
“Man, you know it. I just got every detail back to its original state, what, maybe a month or so ago? It took us forever to find that particular siding. And then a careless driver had to go and smash right into it.”
“I’m sure it was an accident, not intentional.”
“Accident or not, it happened because she was driving too fast, and probably distracted by the loud music blaring from her car stereo. Heck, she may have even been texting.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. But I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“And even with that possibility, you’re still concerned about her welfare.”
Ike’s head quickly turned toward his brother. “Says who?”
“Says you. Back there.”
“I said no such thing.”
“When she was being wheeled into the ambulance. You said you hoped she was okay.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“And you couldn’t take your eyes off her. Didn’t even know how badly your car was damaged until I got there.”
“I don’t remember that, either.”
Warren gave his brother a lopsided grin. “Well, I was standing right next to you, bro, and you were definitely checking her out.” They reached the gated entrance to the Golden Gates community where several Drake family members lived. Ike lived just a couple blocks over from his parents, and Niko, two years younger than Ike, lived a mere block away. Warren tapped a device on his dash and the gates opened. “No one can fault you for being concerned about Quinn. She’s gorgeous, smart...”
“Spoiled, irresponsible, ill-mannered. So don’t even start.”
“Start what?”
“Whatever you’re preparing to instigate by blowing up a general statement made when my brain was scrambled.”
“Ha! Oh, so now the comment that you don’t remember making was said while you weren’t in your right mind.”
“Correct.”
Warren laughed again. “Okay, you go ahead and believe that. I don’t know why you’re fighting it. If I weren’t married, I’d probably ask her out.”
“Could you see someone like her feeling at home on your ranch? No, I don’t think that would have been a match. She’s more Terrell or Julian’s speed, and closer to their ages.”
“How old do you think she is?”
“Too young for me.”
Warren gave a disgruntled grunt. “I bet she’s not ten years younger than you—probably more like five.”
“She could be five years older than me chronologically and still too young. Or perhaps I should have said immature.”
“You’re full of it, Ike. There’s no way you can sit there and tell me you don’t find Quinn attractive.”
“She’s gorgeous, no doubt. Just not the type of woman I’m looking for.”
They reached Ike’s house. Warren pulled into his driveway and turned off the truck’s engine.
“So you are looking. That means you and Audrey are still off again?”
“Audrey and I are off forever.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“No, it’s for real this time. She agrees, too. Said that after ten years I should know if she’s the one. Plus, she’s not getting any younger and wants kids. She needs to be with someone ready to commit.”
“And that’s not you?”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Ike said with a sigh. “And to tell you the truth, I don’t know why. She has all the qualities I’d want in a wife. Everything except that spark, that something that leaves no doubt that you’d lay down your life for that woman. Like what I see between our grandparents, between Mom and Dad, heck, even between you and Charli, Niko and Monique, and Teresa and Atka. But it’s not there. I couldn’t lie to her and say it was, nor could I lie and say a commitment was imminent. So, yes, it’s officially and completely over, but we parted as friends.”
He opened his door. “Thanks for the lift, Warren. I’d tell you not to share the accident with Mother, but she probably knows already.” As if on cue, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and showed Warren the picture of their smiling mother, indicating that she was indeed the caller. “See what I mean?”
He waved to his brother as he walked up the steps to his front door, placing the phone beneath his ear as he let himself in. “Yes, I was in an accident, Mom, and no, I’m not hurt,” he said in greeting.
“I know all that,” Jennifer answered. “I’m calling to inquire as to whether or not you’ve called to check on Quinn, and to know what type of flowers you had sent to her room.”
Chapter 3
Ike actually pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the image had changed. Where was his mother and who was this stranger asking the ridiculous question? “You’re joking, right?”
“Why would I joke about performing a classy, kind act?”
“Obviously because you don’t know as much about the accident as you think you do.” Ike bypassed his living/ dining area and went into the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge then continued to his office. “The accident was totally Quinn’s fault, one that save for her negligence could have been avoided.”
“Be that as it may, you seem to be fine and she’s in the hospital, where she’ll be overnight for observation. So the gentlemanly thing to do is to send flowers and a card wishing her a speedy recovery.”
“All I plan on sending her is a repair bill, and that through my lawyer.”
Jennifer tsked. “Ike Anthony Drake, do not speak that way. It’s not how you were raised. I understand you being upset and can only imagine how bad you feel that your car was damaged. But it’s just a car, Ike, not a life. That neither of you were seriously injured is a blessing. Now, would you like for me to handle that for you, dear, or will you have your assistant send them in the morning first thing?”
Ike was dumbfounded into silence.
“Something grand and cheery, I’m thinking,” Jennifer continued in the silence. “Bird-of-paradise, red ginger and lilies—no blemishes, of course. And orchids, for their lovely scent. Purple would be nice. All accented with tall palm leaves and—”
“Mom. Excuse me for interrupting, but...I’ll take care of everything.”
And he would. That his idea of everything had not included a delivery of flowers to the woman who’d crashed into his Ferrari was something he saw no benefit in sharing.
“Sorry to prattle, darling. You know how much I love flowers. And so does your father. After almost four decades of marriage, he still brings them to me every week. Gets them from the florist shop in the town square.”
“He’s your husband. I’m the victim. So forgive me for not seeing a connection.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You’ve always been the serious son. At least until Julian was born. Among our children, you two are the most alike. Both of you can stand to lighten up a bit and not always take life so seriously. Except when it comes to your health. I understand you refused one at the scene, but have you seen a doctor?”
“Jeez, Mom, how do you get this information so quickly?”
“It’s a strategic process, darling, honed over time and not easily or readily explained. But very handy when one has six rambunctious sons.”
“Don’t leave the rambunctious sister out.”
“Unlike Teresa, the sensible sister, I admit London can sometimes be a bit unruly. But that comes from an inner excitement and zest for life.”
“No, it comes from being Daddy’s baby girl, led to believe that the sun revolves around her.”
“We may have been too lenient in those early years, that’s true. But your little sister has grown into an amazing woman. You know, the young lady in the accident, Quinn Taylor, reminds me somewhat of her.”
“Now that’s a connection easily recognized. Quinn’s a spoiled brat, too.”
“She’s also very beautiful and full of life. At the ball, I found her delightful.”
“I found her irritating, and my opinion of her has only plummeted from there.”
“Hmm, interesting.” She paused. “Well, dear, do see a doctor. Your father was in an accident once and refused medical treatment because he thought he was fine. It took five years for what was then a slight sprain to show up as pain in his lower back. Minor surgery was required to fix what could have been handled through a chiropractor if caught in time.”
“Definitely wouldn’t want that to happen. I’ll call him now. Bye, Mom.”
Ike left a message with his physician’s assistant and then called Niko. When he wasn’t in the mayor’s office, Ike tried his cell.
“What’s up, Ike?”
“A little situation I want to run past you. Tried your office phone. Where are you?”
“Temecula.”
“That’s right. I’d forgotten all about your getaway with Monique. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“No bother at all. In fact, your timing is perfect. Monique is at the spa, bonding with her cousin-in-law and sister-in-law.”
“Diamond and who else, Faye or Marissa?”
“Marissa.”
“Where’s Faye?”
“Working too hard, like most doctors.”
“It’s nice that your wife is spending quality time with that side of the family. How’s everybody else doing?”
Niko filled Ike in on the latest happenings with their Southern California cousins who owned and operated Drake Wines & Resort, an award-winning five-star resort in Southern California’s wine country.
“So we’re happy to let them have their pamper day,” Niko finished. “Because come tomorrow night it’s the husbands’ turn—me, Jackson, Donovan and floor seats at Staples.”
“Floor seats? Must have cost you a fortune.”
“Jackson has connections with a big-time sports agent, Michael Morgan. The tickets came from him.”
“Now that’s what I call a connection. Does he have an extra?”
“Afraid not.”
“Then thanks for letting me know about floor seats at a game I can’t attend.”
“You’re welcome.” The brothers laughed. “So why’d you call?”
“I was in an accident today and need some legal advice.”
“Are you okay?”
“Banged up, but I’ll live. The other driver was taken to the hospital for observation, but from the looks of everything she’ll be fine.”
“She?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Quinn Taylor.”
“Damn. Lucky you.”
“Right. Lucky me.”
“I didn’t mean that sarcastically. That is one gorgeous lady. Running into her might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“I highly doubt that. And she ran into me.”
“What happened?” Ike told him. “If it’s a situation that’s clearly her fault, more than likely her insurance will cover the damages. So why do you need a lawyer?”
“One, because no matter how good her insurance, it will likely not cover the costs of replacing the parts that will have to be fixed. They are rare and expensive.”
“Aw, man! She wrecked the Ferrari.”
“Now you’re getting there, brother. Feel my pain.”
“I feel it. You just got that baby in mint condition.” Niko whistled. “You’re right. That bill is likely to run over and above what her policy covers.”
“Exactly. Which brings me to the second reason I need legal advice—to prosecute her for reckless endangerment.”
“I thought you said this was an accident.”
“One caused by her using our streets as a racetrack.”
“Yes, Ike, but accidents happen. Give it twenty-four to forty-eight hours before setting anything in motion. The situation is likely to look quite different once you stop aching and cool down.”
“I’m angry, Niko, not irrational, and will not change my mind. This accident was a direct result of her foolishness. Her beauty isn’t going to sway me from making her face the consequences. It’s time she learned a lesson on cause and effect.”
“I’d think you’d want to school her in some...less combative areas.”
“Not you, too. First it was the police wanting to go easy, then Mom wanting me to send flowers and now you’re suggesting I make a date with that daredevil? That would hardly be practical. She’s much too wild.”
“Which would make taming her all the more satisfying.”
“You’re suggesting that I court her when why I called you is to take her to court. So your unrequested yet respected personal opinion aside, legally, how do I proceed?”
Niko laughed. “All right, man. I hear you. But I can’t help you, not directly. My expertise is corporate law. You need an accident and personal injury attorney.”
“Do you know any?”
“Not offhand, but let me make a couple calls and get back with you. Meanwhile, follow Mom’s advice and send those flowers. It’s the right thing to do.”
Later, Niko referred Ike to an attorney who was not only well versed in the field but quick to act. Two days after the accident, attorney Lance Holden demanded the police report be completed and filed. The day after that, Quinn was charged with reckless driving. A week later, Lance represented Ike at an arraignment at which Quinn pled not guilty. Lance then suggested they avoid a trial by requesting a pretrial conference in the judge’s chambers. That was fine with Ike. His demand for repayment and appropriate punishment would be met. Victory was all but assured. According to Lance, the matter would be resolved shortly. The defense attorney had left court, heading to his office and a meeting with Quinn.
Chapter 4
Quinn sat and seethed. Was she really sitting in a lawyer’s office over a car accident? Seriously?
“Where is he?” She stared at the door as if it had an answer.
“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly, Kristin Quinn. Try and stay calm.”
On cue, the door opened. A harried-looking lawyer in a wrinkled suit charged into the room, carrying a bulging briefcase in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
“Hello, ladies. Sorry to have kept you waiting. A case ran late.” He set the briefcase and travel mug on the desk, then extended his hand to Quinn. “I’m Joey Wang, the defense attorney who’ll be handling this case.”
Quinn’s handshake was as lackluster as her desire to be here.
He shook Maggie’s hand as well. As he walked behind his desk she said, “We hope you were able to do what the other attorney couldn’t.”
“I’m afraid that’s not why I called you here. The victim is adamant. He wants this matter to be handled in court.”
“I can’t stand that man! He’s such a jerk!” A hearty stiletto-heeled foot stomp was the exclamation point to her anger.
“Quinn, please.” Maggie reached over and patted Quinn’s hand. “Take a breath.”
Quinn did as instructed even as she gave the attorney an icy stare.
Maggie looked at the attorney. His bewildered face matched her own.
“I understand you being upset, Ms. Taylor. These types of cases are often settled out of court. But I assure you that this case will be handled with the utmost care, and in a way that makes this unfortunate situation as easy as possible. Which is why I brought you here.” He looked at Quinn. “It’s to recommend that you change your plea.”
“To guilty? No way.”
“Given the preponderance of evidence, which includes witness statements, a guilty plea can possibly assist in resolving this matter quickly.”
“You’re asking me to plead guilty even though the accident wasn’t my fault,” Quinn insisted.
“What’s the difference?” Maggie asked.
“Guilty means that one admits responsibility, that they are at fault. When this happens, the sentence—or in this case whatever reprimand the judge would impose, since jail is unlikely—would be lighter than what a jury typically hands down. ‘No contest’ means that the defendant agrees to the facts presented but not to their guilt in what happened as a result.”
Quinn’s ears perked up. “Meaning I wouldn’t be liable for his car damage?”
“No, that is not what I mean. The eyewitness testimony and police investigation both point to you being at fault. His repairs will be your responsibility no matter how you plead. Then there is the matter of your driving history and the number of speeding tickets you’ve received in the past five years.”
Quinn’s shoulders slumped. There was no arguing with that truth.
“This will be classified as a misdemeanor. You’ll likely get off with a fine, some type of community service and a suspended license for no more than ninety days. If you slow down and go the next few years without additional tickets, you could approach the judge to have the charge expunged from your record.”
“Unacceptable,” Quinn said with her back ramrod straight. “Grandmother, can we talk about this privately, please?”
“What’s there to talk about, Quinn? You did hit the young man’s car.”
“Isn’t that what insurance is for?”
“I’m afraid these expenses are going to go beyond whatever policy you have,” Joey replied. “When fully restored and in pristine condition, cars like the one you hit sell for half a million bucks.”
Quinn huffed in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”
Maggie raised a hand to her chest. “Oh, good Lord.”
“The ’61 Ferrari is a prized classic. Few were made and most of those are in various states of disrepair. That makes the one you wrecked even more valuable, and leads to the final point.”
“There’s more?” Quinn asked.
Joey answered while opening his briefcase and pulling out a manila envelope. “The owner of the Ferrari has decided not to wait until after the trial to take additional action. He has filed suit against you, Quinn, to ensure the repairs will be handled.”
Quinn eyed her grandmother. “Sued me! Can you believe it? Should I still not be upset?”
Instead of answering the question, Maggie addressed the attorney. “Mister, um...”
“Wang, ma’am. But please, call me Joey.”
“Joey, thank you so much for all you’ve done. I’ll discuss this with my granddaughter and get back with you shortly.”
“As soon as possible, please. The victim and his attorney want this matter resolved in all due haste.”
They’d not taken two steps outside before Quinn started in. “Grandmother, please talk to Dad again. One phone call and this would go away! I don’t know why he’s being so stubborn!”
“One could say the same for you,” Maggie answered, with kind eyes.
“Me? Okay, maybe you’re right. Even though there was a very good reason for me to swerve, I did in fact hit the other car. So I’ll pay the fine and fix his stupid car. But community service? There’s no way. And with Trent coming to town next week, a suspended license is totally out of the question.”
Trent Corrigan was Quinn’s plus one when she needed one, a mood lifter with a great gift of gab. She called him Trench Coat. He called her Q-Tip. They’d been best friends since high school.
“I was talking about the strained relationship between you and your father, the animosity that’s been present since he remarried. That happened twelve years ago, honey, when you were thirteen. How long are you going to hold on to the anger of your youth?”
“I don’t see him making a move to repair things, either.”
They reached the car and got inside. Maggie turned toward Quinn, grasped her hands and squeezed softly. “Quinn, my dear. I love you so very much. The attitude you’re exhibiting is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have spoiled you, but those beautiful hazel-brown eyes would get me every time.
“Your father isn’t perfect. But there’s one thing I know for sure, and it’s that he loves you. Are there other ways he can show it besides the ones he’s tried? Certainly. But like you, honey, he’s doing the best he can.”
“Grandmother—”
“No, no need for a counterargument. You have to handle life on your own terms. As for spoiling you, I don’t regret a single one of the all too few days we shared when you were younger.” Maggie ran a hand along Quinn’s cheek. “You missed so much. Your mother gone and your dad always so busy with work.”
“Work and Viviana. Don’t leave her out.”
“And his wife, yes. I tried to fill the void in ways that may not have served you. There were too few rules and almost no consequences. All things considered, what the young man is asking is not beyond the pale.”