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I deposited my empty plate and wineglass on a tray near the table. As I turned back Laura was approaching, her new conquest, Frank, in tow.

“Dad, would you mind if I went to dinner with Frank?” She smiled, and I detected a tinge of guilt in her tone.

I was disappointed. I’d hoped to spend more time with her tonight. But I also found it difficult to deny my daughter the chance to have fun with someone her age. I felt heartily thankful Connor Lawton wasn’t on her arm. Frank Salisbury looked like a far better prospect to me, even on such limited acquaintance.

“No, honey, y’all go on and have a good time. Did you bring your key with you?” I could always stay up until she came home and let her in myself, but I knew how well that would go over.

“It’s in my bag.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. She whispered in my ear, “Thanks. You’re the best. And don’t worry.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frank Salisbury regarded me with a serious expression. “I promise to bring her home safe and sound.”

For a moment I felt like we had time-warped into the 1950s. Frank had a gravitas I seldom experienced with Laura’s dates, and I respected him for it.

“I appreciate that,” I said with a stern smile.

Laura winked before they turned away and headed for the door.

I scanned the room for my host. With Laura gone, I didn’t see much point in staying. Ralph had disappeared. Perhaps he was ministering to his wife upstairs.

No sign of him in the kitchen either. I’d done my best to behave like a proper guest, but with no host in sight, what else could I do?

Outside, the humid August evening hit me, and I shrugged off my jacket. I took a few steps down the walk, and then the sight of a man standing on the sidewalk in front of the house next door stopped me.

Why was Connor Lawton still hanging around? He swayed a little, seemingly transfixed by the neighboring house. Did he see something I couldn’t?

I decided I wasn’t curious enough to accost him for answers. Instead I headed down the walk and turned away from Connor toward my car.

“Hey! Hold on a minute.”

I muttered, “Damn,” and turned to see Lawton gesturing imperiously to me. “Wanna talk to you a minute,” he said.

I was tempted to ignore him, but too many generations of well-bred Southern ancestors wouldn’t let me. I ambled toward him and stopped a few paces away.

“Can I help you?” My tone could freeze water.

Lawton appeared impervious. He waved toward the house he’d been peering at and said, “Who lives here?” From his left hand dangled a three-quarters-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” I said. “But if you go to the library tomorrow one of the staff can help you find out.”

“Right.” Connor nodded. “Should’ve thought of that.” He gazed at the house again. “Probably further back, too.” He swigged some bourbon.

“Yes, or you can go to the county courthouse a few blocks away and check the records.” By now I burned with curiosity. Was he interested in buying the house?

I waited a moment, but Lawton’s focus on the house didn’t waver. “Well, if that’s all,” I said and turned away.

Lawton came out of his reverie. “No, hang on.” His gaze burned into mine. “You’re Laura’s dad, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Lawton nodded. “Figured. I didn’t put it together before, but when I saw her tonight, and now you, the resemblance hit me. Plus the library thing. She told me her dad’s a librarian.”

“Yes, I am,” I said. “If that’s all, I’ll be on my way.”

Lawton grabbed my arm before I could move away. “That’s not all.” He let go when I shook my arm and scowled at him. “Tell Laura I said she can hang around with that freaking fairy set designer all she wants, but she’ll end up back with me. Count on it.”

I struggled to keep my tone cool. “That’s really up to Laura. She told me she’s not interested in you anymore, and I’d advise you to take that to heart. Find someone else.”

Lawton’s face reddened, and I felt the anger radiating from him.

“That’s crap.” He spit on the ground. “She belongs to me, and I’ll beat the hell out of anyone who tries to keep me away from her.”

SIX

Good thing I didn’t have a blunt weapon in my hands, or Connor Lawton’s head would have several dents in it. Ordinarily I’m not a violent man, but the belligerent playwright brought out the worst in me.

I was so angry I couldn’t speak. Words tangled together in my brain. I took a couple of deep breaths before responding. “Back off, buster. You leave my daughter alone. Same goes for anyone she chooses to date. You cross the line, and I’ll have you in jail so fast you’ll think tomorrow is yesterday.” I loomed over him, and evidently what he read in my expression made him uneasy enough to step back.

“You don’t scare me, old man.” He sneered, but I could tell he wasn’t as confident as his words made him sound. “You’re the one who should back off.”

I pulled out my cell phone and punched in a number I knew all too well. When the dispatcher answered, I said, “I’d like to speak to Chief Deputy Berry, please. Tell her it’s Charlie Harris.”

I twisted the phone away from my mouth. “She’s a close personal friend, and she owes me a few favors. Like clapping your sorry behind in jail for a few days.”

In my ear the dispatcher said, “I’m sorry, sir, but the chief deputy ain’t available right now. Can someone else help you?”

That wasn’t in the plan. What should I do now?

Then I saw I didn’t have to do anything. Connor Lawton tucked tail and almost ran away from me.

With grim satisfaction I thanked the deputy and ended the call. I watched as Lawton hopped into a car half a block away and peeled out. I stuck my phone back in my pocket and headed to my car.

When I reached home some minutes later and entered the kitchen, I announced in a loud voice that I was home, but no one responded. Usually Diesel was waiting, but not tonight. In the hallway I hung my jacket and tie over the banister, then rolled up my sleeves as I walked to the screened-in back porch.

I detected the aroma of Sean’s cigar when I opened the door, and before I took two steps, Diesel greeted me with a loud warble of complaint. I rubbed his head. “Sorry, boy, but I couldn’t take you. You’d have had a ball, I’m sure.” He enjoyed meeting new people and going places, unlike any other cat I’ve known.

He kept scolding—it would take a few minutes before I’d be allowed back in his good graces. He stared up at me, and I smiled at him. Above us the whir of the ceiling fan stirred the warm air and made it bearable to be away from air conditioning.

“That cat beats all. I’ve never heard one talk the way he does.” Sean laughed. “How was the party?” He occupied an old armchair near the end of the porch to my right, his favorite spot to relax with a cigar.

I’d rather he didn’t smoke, but the aroma reminded me of my grandpa Harris. He’d enjoyed his cigars with a shot or two of bourbon well into his nineties, and I’d loved him dearly. Ever since his death over twenty years ago, the smell of a good stogie—health risks aside—triggered pleasant memories.

“The party was okay, nothing special.” I sat on the weather-beaten sofa near him, and Diesel jumped up beside me. He deigned to put one paw on my leg. I scratched his back and his head, and he purred in contentment. “Laura played the belle of the ball, such as it was. She went out to dinner with someone she met from the Theater Department named Frank Salisbury. Seems like a nice young man.”

Sean shook his head as he emitted more smoke. We both watched as it whirled toward the ceiling fan over his head. “She sure doesn’t waste any time.”