Wildflower Ridge - Sherryl Woods Page 0,120

went from the rot-gut stuff to the priciest labels on the market. Apparently people from all walks of life in Garden City reached the End of the Road sooner or later.

There were a dozen or so people scattered around the large room. One group of four, all men, were tipping beers and arguing about politics. A man at the end of the bar was staring with a glassy gaze at the TV, which had been tuned to a sitcom rerun. There were couples in a few of the booths. Every one of them had a thick hamburger and a mound of crispy onion rings in front of them. That was recommendation enough for Cord, whose mouth watered at the sight of them.

When the bartender finally approached, he greeted Harlan Patrick by name.

“I hear Laurie’s on her way to Nashville,” he said, obviously unaware of what a sore subject it was. “I’m guessing she’ll have herself a recording contract by springtime. That little gal’s got talent. I’ll bet you’re close to busting with pride.”

Harlan Patrick gave a grim nod. “She’s got what it takes, all right. Bring me a beer, Jack.”

Cord ordered a hamburger and onion rings. “I’ll have a beer now, then coffee after.”

When the bartender had gone, Harlan Patrick grinned at Cord. “Guess that makes you the designated driver.”

“Okay by me.” He glanced around the room. “You see anybody here who could be our potential grandmother?”

Harlan Patrick whirled his stool around and looked out over the scattering of people. “No one here who looks a day over forty to me.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Maybe she’s just not here yet.”

Cord’s gaze fell on a woman tucked into the shadows of a nearby booth with what looked like a double whiskey in front of her. “Then again, maybe she’s just a young grandma,” he said thoughtfully, nodding in the direction of the booth. It was hard to tell too much about the woman, because of the way she’d huddled in a corner of the darkened booth, but she didn’t look like any grandmother he’d ever seen. For some reason he’d been envisioning a white-haired old lady. This woman had hair the color of straw and an outfit meant for someone half her size.

Harlan Patrick followed his gaze. “Could be. She can’t be much more than forty, but it looks as if she’s been around the block a time or two. I’ll check it out when Jack comes back.”

Another flurry of customers arrived and it was a half hour before the bartender brought their food and had time enough to chat.

“Who’s the lady who’s all alone over there?” Harlan Patrick asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here before.”

Jack followed the direction of his gesture. “Hazel? Oh, she’s one of the regulars. She’s here by five. Never leaves before closing. I’m not surprised you haven’t noticed her. She stays to herself, doesn’t say much. The lady’s into serious drinking. Can’t say I’ve ever heard her story. All I know for sure is that she pays her check, she’s never rowdy and she gets home under her own steam. Lives a couple of blocks from here and walks. I offered her a ride one night when it was raining cats and dogs, but she refused. Said she didn’t mind getting wet.”

“Is she friendly with any of the other regulars?” Cord asked.

“You asking if she picks up men?” the bartender asked. “Not that I’ve ever noticed. Like I said, she concentrates on her whiskey and the music, if we have anybody performing.”

He glanced up then, spotted a customer beckoning from the other end of the bar and went off to get the man another drink.

“Looks like that’s the lady,” Harlan Patrick said. “What do we do now?”

Cord was at a loss. Obviously they couldn’t go and pump her for information. “Watch her, I guess. From what your buddy said, it doesn’t sound as if she’d appreciate the company of a couple of strangers.”

“Isn’t this going to be a little bit like watching grass grow?” Harlan Patrick grumbled. “Doesn’t look to me as if we’re going to see a lot of action.”

“You sound disappointed,” Cord said, regarding him with amusement. “What exactly were you hoping for?”

Harlan Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know. Something dangerous, I guess.”

“Seems to me you ought to be grateful you were wrong. Now you can get down to the serious business of drowning your sorrows, while I keep an eye on our friend over there.”

Harlan Patrick swirled his beer

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024