"Ma'am, Mr. Keller asked me to see you out," he said. "Before we do anything, can I get you coffee? Or water?"
Margaret looked up. "That's very kind, officer. Could I have ten more minutes? My grandson is coming."
Hank glanced at the wall clock, then at the empty front entrance. "You know, I never saw the clock, ma'am. You're not bothering anybody."
"You could get in trouble for saying that."
"I have a feeling I'll survive ten minutes."
He returned with a paper cup of cold water and quietly unfolded the chair Tyler had left against the wall. This time he set it beside the window where the shade of a tall display screen softened the afternoon glare. "Sit here for a bit. If somebody complains, tell them I did it."
Margaret lowered herself into the chair with genuine relief. "Bless you, Officer Doyle."
"Hank is fine. My friends use it."
"Then thank you, Hank."
The two of them watched customers coming and going for another quarter of an hour. Margaret asked how long he had worked there, whether the pace had changed, and whether he liked the job. Hank answered carefully at first, then more freely. He liked helping visitors find the right building, locating lost keys, and occasionally calming people down when a deal went badly.
"But there's been a lot more pressure lately," he admitted. "Numbers and appointments. People get told not to waste time."
"Time on whom?"
Hank looked toward the private lounge. "That's the hard part, ma'am. Somebody decides a person won't buy, and after that everything they do looks like proof."
Margaret was quiet for a moment. "You sound as though you've thought about it."
"I have a granddaughter. She's sixteen. Sometimes I think about how I'd want somebody to treat her if she walked into a place where nobody knew her."
Margaret held the paper cup in both hands. "That's a useful way to think about most things."
Through the glass, she spotted Tyler crossing the lot toward a shaded side entrance. He carried a small lunch bag, but instead of going inside, he settled on a low concrete wall with his back against the building. His unpaid hour was not over. Margaret could see from the way he was watching the time that he had no intention of stealing even a minute from the company.
She rose carefully. "Hank, would you mind if I spoke to that young man?"
"He's off the clock. I don't see why not."
"Then perhaps you'd walk with me. My grandson will be calling soon, and I don't want him worrying because I'm wandering around a parking lot."
Hank took the chair back to the storage alcove and accompanied her through the side door. The sudden warmth outside was startling after the showroom's air conditioning. Heat rose from the pavement and settled against Margaret's face, and she felt the fatigue of the morning in her knees.
Tyler looked up as they approached. He immediately started to stand. Margaret lifted one hand.
"Please don't get up on my account. You already lost enough because of me."