Tonight was different. He’d have other things to occupy his thoughts. Lori Baker remained at the edges of his mind, tantalizingly out of his reach. He shook his head. The real problem was that he hadn’t had a woman in his life for far too long. That, all by itself, could scramble a man’s thinking. His life lacked balance.
GENE AWOKE TO SUNLIGHT playing on his face. He stretched, working the kinks out. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa, his legs on the coffee table, watching TV. He must have been more tired than he’d thought. As he got up, ready to undress and shower, his phone rang. He reached over and lifted it off the coffee table
“Hey, you awake, farm boy?” Paul said. “I’ve got some interesting information for you. Why don’t you come over to my place?”
Twenty minutes later Gene picked up four breakfast burritos from the Hen House up on Twentieth Street, then drove over to Paul’s.
They emptied the sack of food on the kitchen counter, loaded up their plates, then stepped over to the small dining table. A laptop lay open on one side and Paul took the seat by it.
“Are you sure Lori Baker’s worth all this trouble? There are a lot of unattached ladies out there, bro.”
“She needs a little backup right now. She’s getting picked on by someone who doesn’t fight fair, and I’ve never had a lot of patience with bullies,” Gene said.
“Okay, let’s see what I can do for you.” He went into the next room, then came back with a small leather case. “Here. It’s a photo ID I made up for you. Take it. It may come in handy.”
“Grayhorse Investigations,” he said, opening it. “So I’m a consultant for your P.I. firm?”
“Anytime you decide to give up ranching, you can come work for me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” he said.
Paul sat down by his computer and typed for a moment before looking up. “Harrington’s bad news when it comes to women. Last month the police broke up a fight between him and the very protective father of a twenty-year-old college cheerleader he kept hounding for a date. Though Harrington could have pressed for assault, he apparently wasn’t big on making it an issue, either.”
“He definitely sounds like the stalker type, but I drove by his house and it looks like he hasn’t been there for several days. His pickup hasn’t moved for at least that long. Of course it’s possible he has a car or another home here in town, or maybe a girlfriend.”
“Nothing I could find,” Paul said. “I’ll tell you what. Bring the ID I gave you and let’s go have a chat with his neighbors, see what else we can find out about him.”
Gene hesitated. “You shouldn’t be out in the field yet, not with that gimpy shoulder of yours. If we run into a problem…”
“You can handle it,” Paul said with a wide grin. “I’ll stand back and keep score.”
Gene choked on his coffee. “Like you could actually stay out of any street fight.”
“We’ll find out. Let’s go. You drive.”
Chapter Five
Lori went to work early the following morning, hoping that if Bud Harrington was around, he’d show up too late to follow her.
Her supervisor, Jerry Esteban, would probably be thrilled to see her come in early instead of right under the wire. Punching in the entry code on the keypad lock, Lori let herself into the building using the back door and went straight to the break room. Her best friend, Miranda Hoff, was already there, sitting at the table eating a glazed doughnut.
Seeing Lori, she smiled. “Busted. I came in early so I could eat my doughnuts in peace.”
Lori laughed. “Charlie’s still after you to stay on that health food diet?”
She patted her huge belly. “The baby will be here in six weeks, and since he knows how much I love junk food he’s watched over me like a hawk.” She made a face. “If I see one more fruit smoothie or those green health food shakes of his, I may scream and traumatize our offspring.”
Lori laughed.
“But why on earth are you here so early?” Miranda asked, eyes narrowed.
Lori filled her in, and then ended the story by telling her about Gene. “He really stood up for me when it mattered.”
“Are we talking the tall Indian man with the cowboy hat who was at your window late yesterday afternoon?”
“You noticed?”
“I’m pregnant, not dead,” she said with a sly smile. “It’s like I’ve always said, the bad things in life often lead to something good.”
“You’re the eternal optimist,” Lori said.
Miranda looked at the clock. “Time to get out there. I wanted to clean up my workstation before we open.”
Lori watched her friend walk away. She envied Miranda. Charlie adored her, and Miranda was crazy about him in return. Now they were expecting their first baby.
She wondered if she’d ever find the focused, purpose-driven life she craved. Time marched on, and with each day that came, her hopes seemed to vanish under the glare of the morning sun.
Lori walked out into the main office and saw Steve Farmer, her coworker, and Harvey Bishop, their security man, sipping cups of coffee and watching people already gathering by the entrance. In five minutes Harvey would be opening the doors.
A man in a cowboy hat was standing just outside, and Lori thought about Gene, wondering when she’d see him again. On impulse, she decided to call his cell and invite him out to lunch today. She wasn’t the kind to sit idly by a silent phone wishing and hoping. The direct approach was more her style.
GENE AND PAUL WALKED DOWN the sidewalk toward Gene’s truck after talking to the last resident on Harrington’s block. “You really should consider a career as a P.I., bro. People open up to you without even thinking about it,” Paul said.
“No, that wasn’t it. Harrington’s neighbors don’t like him very much, and they’re hoping someone will drive him out of town.”
As he slipped behind the wheel of his truck, Gene’s phone rang. He picked it up and smiled as he heard Lori’s voice. “Where and when?” he asked seconds later.
When he hung up, Gene noticed the odd way Paul was looking at him. “Let me guess,” Paul said. “That was Lori?”
“Yeah, she wants to meet for lunch. She’s buying.”
“You’ve got it bad, bro. I hate to break it to you, but you’re going down,” Paul said, shaking his head.
LORI DROVE TO SIMPLE Pleasures, looking forward to lunch with Gene at her favorite Hartley restaurant. Though it was across town, the drive was well worth it.
Realizing she was early, Lori asked to be seated at a booth by the front window. She could watch for Gene from there.
As she glanced up and down the street looking for Gene’s pickup, she spotted a maroon van parked on the south side of the restaurant.
The driver got out and Lori held her breath. He was wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses and a Scorpions windbreaker. Absolutely certain that it was Harrington again, she reached for her cell phone and called the police.
“Has he made any threatening moves or tried to approach you?” the dispatcher asked.
“No, Harrington’s just standing there by his van, probably waiting