Bright with banners and balloons, Duncan Hamilton’s dealership stood near the interstate on the outskirts of Muldro, not far from the outlet mall. His main building included a two-story tower of steel and glass topped with a gigantic American flag. Dunc’s office, according to Mel, was on the second floor, where he enjoyed an unobstructed view of Muldro and the green hills beyond.
Tish parked in the customer parking lot, climbed out, then reached into her purse to make sure the watch was still there. According to George, it was worth much more than she’d guessed. They hadn’t told Mel how much, and maybe they never would. She’d returned at midnight, afraid she’d be locked out and find herself on the street again. She’d fallen apart when Tish offered a hug instead of a lecture.
She took a deep breath and started walking across the lot. Returning the watch was the responsible and proper thing to do, so she would do it. Arriving without an appointment with the head honcho on a busy Saturday, she could only hope he was available, but she wanted to take him by surprise.
In the showroom, she encountered a pair of hungry-looking salesmen in matching polo shirts.
“I’m here to see Dunc,” she said before they could pounce. “Upstairs, yes?”
The salesmen pointed her toward an elevator, and she took it to the second floor. The view was beautiful if she looked beyond the outlet mall and restaurant row. Turning from the window, she proceeded along a broad hallway lined with offices open to view behind glass. Telephones rang, printers hummed, and employees laughed. It seemed like a pleasant enough place to work.
Farther down the hallway, it was quieter. A door with a brass nameplate caught her eye. She moved close enough to read it. Dunc Hamilton.
Until she’d shared her plan with George and absorbed some of his pessimism, she’d thought it sounded easy enough. Just walk into Dunc Hamilton’s office and return the watch. Now she wasn’t so sure.
The door was ajar by a couple of inches. Hoping he wouldn’t be there, she knocked gently on the door frame. “Mr. Hamilton?”
“Come on in, whoever you are.” He sounded genial enough.
Cautiously, she pushed the door open. A muscular figure stood silhouetted against a sunny window. She couldn’t make out his features, but his stance was like that of a high school football coach on the sidelines of a game: legs apart, hands on his hips. In polo shirt and khakis, he only needed a coach’s whistle around his neck to complete the stereotype. That impression was confirmed by photos of sports teams on display all around the office: Little League, soccer, youth football.
As he stepped away from the window, his features became visible. She saw Mel in his smile and his warm brown eyes.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Dunc Hamilton.”
“Hello,” she said. “My name is Tish McComb.”
The warmth drained from his expression. “I’ve heard about you.”
“I’ve heard about you too. I’m one of Mel’s friends.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s a troublemaker.”
“She’s your daughter, Mr. Hamilton. Please don’t talk about her that way.”
“It’s the truth.”
“People can change. She’s a sweet girl, really. Give her a chance.”
Dunc sighed. “I’ll be happy to work with you if you ever want to buy a vehicle, but if you show up again to preach at me, I’ll have security throw you out. Is that clear?”
Tish’s hopes deflated. “It’s a little too clear, actually.”
“Good day to you, then.”
“Wait. I—I wanted to tell you …” She blinked, trying to remember the carefully crafted lines she’d rehearsed on the drive over to Muldro. They’d all fled her mind.
“Yes?” he prompted.
She reached into her purse for the watch but kept it hidden in her hand. “Mel still believes this was meant to be hers, but she’s returning it to you. To make things right.” Tish opened her hand, displaying the watch on her palm.
He let out a delighted laugh. “I thought she sold that thing.” He was an imposing figure as he moved closer.
She hid the watch behind her back. “She could have sold it, but she didn’t. She hung on to it even when she was flat broke and homeless, because it was her only memento of her Grandpa John.”
“Give it here.”
“You don’t need it, do you? And it means so much to Mel.”
“I guess that’s why she stole it.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
“If I give it back, will you stop shutting her out of the family?”
“If you give it to me? It’s my property. My wife’s, actually, and she’d planned to give it to our son. If Mel ever has the courage to face me in person, maybe we’ll talk about letting her back in the family.”
Tish laughed in disbelief. “What if your father-in-law really meant to give it to her?”
“Then he should have given it to her before he kicked the bucket, or he should have made a will. The law is the law.”
Tish backed toward the door. He followed, his hand still extended.
“Give me the watch before I call security.”
“What would you do if you lost her suddenly? Wouldn’t you wish you’d treated her better? She’s your daughter.”
He shook his head slowly. “She says she’s not my daughter anymore.”
“I’m starting to understand why.”
She took another step backward, calculating her chances, but she knew he would sic his security goons on her. She, the woman who’d never had a parking ticket, would be charged with grand larceny. Her name would be mud.
So what? The McComb name was already mud. It was like her dad’s joke that he drove a dented old vehicle so he would win parking-space battles. People in nice vehicles could see he had nothing to lose.
She had something to lose, though. Her conscience. Her self-respect.
“Hand it over,” Dunc said with a smug smile.
Tish dropped the watch in his outstretched palm and left him to gloat over his victory.
Waiting for the elevator, she stood by a wall of glass and surveyed row after row after row of glittering new vehicles awaiting their new owners. Dunc Hamilton had everything he needed, but Mel, more than ever, had nothing.
Having failed to talk Tish out of her crazy mission, George had spent the day keeping an eye on Mel. She worried him. She managed to act perky for their customers, but every time the shop emptied, she retreated into silence and gloom. He wished Tish would call, at least, but the lack of communication told him it hadn’t gone well.
It was nearly closing time when he heard a knock on the back door. He checked to be sure Mel was in the showroom and out of earshot before he opened the door, but when Tish walked in, she didn’t need to speak. Her tearful eyes said it all.
She nodded. “Where is she?”
“Out front. Sit.” George pulled out the chair at the head of the ugly old worktable. “What happened?”
She sank onto the chair and looked up at him. “I thought returning the watch was the key to patching things up with her family. I even thought he would let her keep it. Now she doesn’t have the watch or the family.” She covered her face with her hands. “I guess I’m the only one who isn’t surprised.”
“You’re the only one who doesn’t know Dunc.” George reached down to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Are you ready to talk to her?”
She nodded, still hiding her face.
“I’ll get her.”
It was a matter of three minutes to lock up the shop and return to the back room with Calv and Mel. Silent and expressionless, she faced Tish and waited.
“Mel, I’m sorry,” Tish said. “Your dad took the watch, but he didn’t … well, getting it back didn’t soften his heart any.”
“He always takes things.” Mel’s eyes were dry, and her voice was soft but steady. “Like he took the car. Like he took the black jacket when it was so cold …”
“I’d feel better if you’d scream at me and tell me what a stupid idea it was.”
“It’s okay, Tish. I just want to be alone for a while.” Mel found her hoodie and walked out the back door, shutting it gently.
Silence settled upon them until Calv let out a heavy sigh. “The prodigal went to a far country and lost everything,” he said.
Tish’s face hardened. “She didn’t lose everything. She had the watch—until I made her give it back. I wish I hadn’t.”
Unperturbed by her tone, Calv kept going. “Dunc ain’t in the business of killing fatted calves. He don’t fit the father mold. Mel don’t fit the repentant prodigal mold either.”
“She’s hungry, isn’t she, just like the prodigal in the Bible,” Tish snapped.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll give you that one.” Calv widened his eyes at George as if to invite him into the discussion.
George shook his head and pursued his thoughts in silence. It was safer that way.
Instead of asking for her inheritance, Mel had swiped her older brother’s watch. And instead of asking forgiveness, she’d steadfastly maintained that she’d only taken what was hers. No wonder Dunc hadn’t given her a fancy robe or fired up the grill.
Tish glared at Calv. “I wish somebody would do something practical.”
He gave her a reproachful look. “Like what, young lady?”
“I guess punching Dunc’s lights out wouldn’t count.”
“We don’t want to do that, Miss Tish. Cross that man, and he turns into ten gallons of mean in a five-gallon bucket. It sloshes all over everybody.” Calv pulled keys from his pocket. “I gotta get off to my AA meeting before somebody draws me into some kind of altercation. Bye, y’all.” He left by the back door, his shoulders stooped.
Tish rose. “I should head back to the house too.”
“Hold on a minute,” George said. “Was Stu there?”
“I didn’t see him. It was only Dunc and me in his office. I felt like a peon, and he was the king who had the power to say ‘off with her head.’ ”
“He has that way about him.”
“I seriously considered making a run for it. With the watch.” She laughed sadly. “Farris was right. Bad company has corrupted my good morals.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Most people would never have the courage to confront Dunc in the first place.”
“He had every right to be angry with her.” She sighed and moved toward the door. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. The Carlyle family had every right to be angry with Nathan for stealing too, but it’s wrong to hang on to the anger forever.”
George opened the door for her, his mind teeming with troubled thoughts about Yankees and carpetbaggers, prodigals and parents and siblings. Every story had more than one side to it.