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skipped town.”
    All four at the table still held their cards, but none was paying attention to the game. The instant Eugene laid down his hand and stood, Pam was up on her knees on the chair, protesting, “We’re playing, Daddy.”
    “This is more important than poker,” John told her.
    “Only because you’ve made it that way,” Eugene said. Standing at his full height, he was an inch or two taller than John, but still the family resemblance was marked. The fiery eyes, the rigid square jaw, the belligerent stance—the two men were definitely father and son. “You shouldn’a said anything to Simon, John. I’m not in the habit of throwing accusations around, especially when it involves my men. If something strange is goin’ on, there’s a reason.”
    “Greed. How’s that for a reason?”
    “No good. Doesn’t apply to Simon. You should’a known that, John. You’ve been working full-time for this company for two years, summers longer than that. You should know by now who you can trust and who you can’t.” Turning back to the others, he said, “Simon needs talking to. I have to make sure he don’t quit on me. Pammy, Rufus’ll walk you home.”
    “But we just started! I want to play longer!”
    “It’s past your bedtime,” John told her.
    Pam ignored him. “Why don’t I wait here, Daddy, and you’ll come back when you’re done?”
    “Because I don’t know when I’ll be done, thanks to your brother. So long as he’s ruined the night, I might as well take a look at those books.” Stooping down, he gave her a hug. “We’ll play again tomorrow. Right, Rufus?”
    “Yup.”
    Adding his own “Yup,” Dwayne took the lollypop from his pocket, but Pam didn’t want the sweet. She took it so as not to hurt his feelings, but she held it tightly in her hand, fully wrapped, all the way home.
    Once there, she ran inside, but instead of finding Marcy, who would have been sympathetic to her cause, she found Hillary Cox. “John isn’t here,” she yelled and gave the stairs a kick. “He’s making trouble for my father.”
    “Where’s Marcy?” Rufus asked Hillary.
    “She ran over to see her mother. She won’t be long. I told her I’d keep an eye on things while she was gone.” Pam coiled herself into a corner of the bottom stair and refused to say goodbye to Rufus. The instant he was down the walk, as though she’d held her temper in check as long as she possibly could, she cried, “I hate him. I hate him.”
    “Rufus?” Hillary asked.
    “John. He’s a rat. He spoils everything, and I hate him!”
    She punctuated her claim with several more swift kicks to the stair riser. “He should have stayed in Boston. I don’t like it when he’s here. He takes the fun out of everything.”
    Hillary left her post against the parlor arch and sank onto the step above Pam’s. “What did he do?”
    “He got Daddy angry. He’s always doing that.” She turned blazing eyes on Hillary. “Know what I think? I think he was a mistake.”
    “What do you mean, a mistake?”
    “I think he was the wrong baby. He isn’t Daddy’s.”
    “That doesn’t happen.”
    “It does. My friend Sharon was telling me about a baby that happened to, and it makes sense. John and Daddy don’t get along. They’re always fighting.”
    “But they look exactly alike.”
    “They do not. Daddy smiles.”
    “That’s external, like their clothes. Your father’s are older and more worn, because he’s been wearing them here for so long. John isn’t here as much, so his are newer and stiffer. He wears a suit in the city. But if you look at their build and their features, they’re definitely father and son.”
    “Poor Daddy.” She rushed on when Hillary looked ready to defend John. “You like him, but that’s because you think he’s handsome. You came over here to see him, didn’t you?”
    “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
    “No, and I don’t care! He’s a rat!”
    “I don’t know about that.”
    “Are