The Last Sister (Columbia River)(47)

Madison had asked no questions and exercised more patience and sympathy around the teenager.

But this morning, Isaac’s flighty behavior was another oddity that tipped her day off-balance. Dory’s weird rambling had been the first, and the slogan from the pocket watch consistently beat a fierce tempo in her brain as she worked, making her mess up orders and nearly spill coffee. Twice. Usually her shift ran like a well-oiled machine. Today her mental gears were grinding and sticking.

The watch and Dory’s words sucked up her concentration.

Why would Dad have a watch with that slogan? Maybe he didn’t know what the words meant . . . it had been his grandfather’s, after all.

But Dory said, “Even with the kind of man he was.”

Was there something we didn’t know?

The thoughts warred in her brain. She had memories of her loving father. But if she thought hard, there were also glimpses of anger. Glimpses she’d pushed away, not wanting to remember.

“Dammit!” her father roared from the driver’s seat. Madison and Emily went silent in the back seat and craned their necks to see what had made their father yell and pound on the steering wheel.

“Damned bitch.” He threw open his door and strode to a car that had just pulled into a parking place.

“I think Dad was waiting for that spot,” said Emily.

“Why doesn’t he just find another?” asked Madison. She could see empty spots a few rows over.

She gasped as she saw him kick the rear tire of the other car. Putting both hands on the glass, she pressed her face close to see. The other driver was frantically rolling up her window, her wide eyes terrified in her black face.

Madison’s stomach clenched.

Who can I ask about Dory’s comments about Mom and Dad? And about Tara?

She didn’t want to go to her other great-aunts. Past conversations had proved the aunts stuck to a script when it came to discussing her parents. Dory had gone off script, and Madison was certain her other aunts wouldn’t approve. She had to think of someone else who’d been around during her parents’ early years. And would be willing to talk.

Remembering she’d entered the kitchen to grab extra butter for a customer, she scooped a generous ball into a tiny dish and darted back to the floor. The customer said nothing as Madison set it near her pancakes.

You’re welcome.

She sighed and checked the restaurant front for new customers. A single male waited, his back to her. She grabbed a menu for him, feeling tension crawl up her spine. He turned as she approached.

Brett Steele.

She tossed the menu onto the hostess stand and met his gaze. “Why are you here?”

“To eat of course.”

“Emily’s not here yet.”

“I didn’t come to see her.” He looked pointedly at the menu she’d cast aside. “Can I get a table?”

She reluctantly picked it up and led him to the closest booth.

“You look good today, Madison,” he said as he slid in. “I’m liking the lipstick.”

An urge to wipe it off consumed her, and she hid a tremor.

“Coffee?” she asked instead.

“Yep. And a short stack with a side of bacon.” He smiled.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emily walk through the kitchen door, clearly headed to her office. Brett’s sudden attention shift indicated he’d also spotted her. Madison rolled her eyes at his flash of longing.

Get over her.

His comment about her lipstick curdled in her brain. The man had issues when it came to the Mills sisters. All three of them.

“I’ll get your coffee in a minute.” Madison dashed away in pursuit of Emily, catching her as she unlocked her office. “Can you watch the floor? It’s quieted down from breakfast, and I have an appointment.”

“Seriously, Madison? Why would you schedule it during your work hours?”

“I just made it this morning. I’ve got a tooth that throbbed half the night. They said they could get me in now.”

“Oh.” Emily’s gaze sharpened. “Yeah, I’ll cover it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did I see Brett out there?”

“Yes. He wants the usual, but I didn’t put in his order yet. And keep an eye on table eight. They’re needy.” Madison pulled her apron strap over her head, wadded the fabric up in a ball, and squeezed past Emily into the office to grab her purse. “Gotta go.” She darted out and down the hall.

“I hope your tooth feels better,” Emily called after her.

Madison had already forgotten the lie. “Thanks.”

She’d thought of someone who would answer her questions.



Madison rapped on the window, spotting Anita at a desk inside her beauty parlor. The front door was locked because the shop didn’t open for another twenty minutes. Anita waved at her and headed toward the door.

Anita was Madison’s choice for answers for several reasons.

First, she’d lived in Bartonville all her life and knew every person in Madison’s family, including her parents. Anita had been a few years older than Madison’s mother, Brenda.

Second, the Anita Haircut shop was a gold mine of gossip—or cesspool, depending on one’s personal preferences.

Third, Madison knew that Anita and her aunts had quarreled off and on over the years. Anita wasn’t afraid to stand up to her aunts. They were still friends, but that didn’t mean Anita toed their line like some people in town. She spoke freely.