“Well, I’m pretty sure Carl disagrees.” Tobias thought of finding Uriah’s son outside his door earlier and the uneasy feeling it had given him.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Uriah said. “Even if I don’t kick him out, I can’t imagine he’ll stick around for long. As much as I wish he could pull his life together, I’m too realistic to believe it’ll happen. What are the chances he’ll be able to change after all these years?”

What were the chances he even wanted to? Tobias didn’t get the impression Carl felt any remorse. Didn’t last night prove it?

He suspected that Uriah was harboring more hope than he was willing to acknowledge. He just didn’t want to be disappointed in the end. Otherwise, he would’ve sent his son packing when Carl tried to steal from him last night—and then went out, got drunk and nearly killed Atticus. “So what do you think will happen?” Tobias asked.

“He’ll realize that living here isn’t like being on easy street—that I expect him to work and help grow and harvest the tangerines. And after he gets tired of butting heads with me, he’ll take off again.”

Tobias couldn’t help being skeptical. The way Carl had been talking about the property suggested he’d come to take control of his father’s assets. That meant staying long-term. “Even though he has no money, no job and no place to live.”

Uriah rolled his eyes. “I know. Doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. But he’s never done the smart thing. Never had any self-discipline.”

Tobias was tempted to explain why he thought this visit from Carl would be different. It wasn’t simply a matter of Uriah biding his time until Carl took off again—the same cycle he’d grown accustomed to in the past. With his mother gone and his father getting on in years, Carl’s expectations had changed. He didn’t feel he had to build a life of his own or contribute to anything. He was expecting to inherit from his father, and he believed, at that point, all his problems would be over.

As far as Tobias was concerned, that was a recipe for disaster. “What about the DUI? He’ll have to be around to go to court for that. And they’ve suspended his license, haven’t they?”

“Yes, but that shouldn’t take more than a few months to sort out. I’m just glad Atticus wasn’t injured any worse than he was. Poor kid.”