around in the glass, took another sip, then pushed the glass aside with an expression of distaste. “To tell you the honest truth, I think I had enough of that last night. It didn’t stop me from thinking about Laurie and I woke up with a splitting headache and a queasy stomach. What’s the point?”
Cord barely contained his desire to laugh at Harlan Patrick’s despondent tone. Growing up was surely hell. “Is that a pool table I see over there? We could play a little to pass the time.”
“Now you’re talking,” Harlan Patrick said eagerly. “There’s nothing I like better than taking a man’s money from him over a friendly little game of pool.”
“Just don’t forget to keep one eye on our lady-friend, in case she decides to slip out before closing.”
Maybe it was because he was still distracted over his girlfriend’s defection, but Harlan Patrick’s mind was definitely not on pool. A few hours later, Cord was a hundred bucks richer and not feeling one bit guilty about it. The betting had been Harlan Patrick’s idea, after all.
“How’d you do that?” Harlan Patrick grumbled as they returned to the bar just in time for last call.
“Concentration and skill,” Cord said simply, pocketing his winnings.
“All in all, the night has been a total bust.”
“Not really,” Cord said. “It looks as if our friend is about to head home.”
“And you want to do what? Follow her? What good will that do? Justin already knows where she lives.”
“But firsthand information is always best. Are you coming or not?”
Harlan Patrick eyed his beer with renewed longing, then shrugged. “I’m coming.”
They climbed into Cord’s truck. He turned on the engine, but not the headlights and waited until Hazel Murdock was halfway down the block before pulling to the edge of the lot and waiting again.
“I thought you were going to follow her.”
“I am, but as long as we can see her from here, why pull out?” Cord said. “As slow as she’s walking, we’d just end up passing her and having to circle the block. She’d get suspicious for sure.”
“You’ve got a point,” Harlan Patrick admitted. “What happens when she gets to her house? You’re not proposing to spend the night outside, are you?”
“No,” Cord said to Harlan Patrick’s obvious relief. “But once we know where it is, we can come back tomorrow while she’s at the bar and take a closer look.”
Harlan Patrick’s eyes widened as the implications of that sank in. “Oh, no,” he protested. “Tell me you’re not thinking of breaking in.”
“Who said anything about breaking in?” Cord asked innocently. “Besides, you were the one hoping to do something dangerous.”
“I really do not want to land in jail.”
“Not even to help your sister and that sweet little baby?”
Harlan Patrick moaned. “You heard what Justin said. He’s going to be ticked as hell if we get ourselves arrested, to say nothing of what Daddy and Grandpa Harlan will have to say about it.”
Cord regarded him with grim determination. “Then we’ll just have to be sure not to get caught, won’t we?”
* * *
Blast Hazel Murdock, Cord thought the next night as he and Harlan Patrick crept up to her house. He’d been hoping that she’d go off and leave lights blazing so the two of them could do their snooping from outside. For all of his bravado the night before, he wasn’t any more thrilled with the idea of getting arrested than Harlan Patrick was. It would definitely be counterproductive to any custody battle, if he had a very recent breaking and entering charge on his record.
Unfortunately old Hazel apparently saved money on electricity so she could afford her booze. The little two-story bungalow was as dark as a tomb when they drove up in front of it after making sure that Hazel was, indeed, settled in at the bar for the evening.
“Now what?” Harlan Patrick asked, sounding resigned.
“We hope she’s the type of woman to leave her front door unlocked,” Cord said. “If not, we start looking for open windows.”
“It’s twenty degrees out here. How many windows do you expect to find open?”
“It only takes one. And it only needs to be unlocked, not pushed up.”
“Why do I think I’m going to regret this?” Harlan Patrick grumbled, but he followed Cord up the walk and reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” Cord said, grabbing his arm. “You’re not wearing gloves. I am.”
“Sorry. Apparently I’m a little rusty at breaking and entering.”
“If the door’s unlocked, it’s only entering,” Cord replied.