After I took Mr. Darcy for a walk I went over to Garrett’s house next door.  He was stretched out in a lounge chair, reading.  I walked up behind him.  “History.  Aren’t you the student.”

            “What do you want Soph?”

            I got right to the point.  “I want to get into Buddy’s car and I want your help.”

            He gave me a are-you-crazy? look.  “You want to break into his car?”

            I cringed.  “Not break into, he never locks it.  I just want to get a look at his auto insurance card in the glove compartment.  It’ll have his real first name on it.”    

            Garrett sighed.  “And you need that for…?”

            “To find out if there’s a Mrs. Morrow. I need his first name to look him up. I want to see if he’s an even bigger jerk than I think he is.  I’m sure he told Mom he wasn’t married.  But he could be.  It’s been known to happen.”

            “Soph, if he is, your mom probably does know… and that’s why she doesn’t talk to you about it.  Ever think of that?”

            "No, actually.  But, I’d still like to find out for myself.  Then I’m going to Google her name and see what I come up with.”

            Garrett snorted.  “Probably a hundred ‘Mrs. Whatever Morrows.’  Anyway, what do you need me for if you’ve already decided what you’re going to do?”

            “Lookout.  Anybody can see into our driveway.  I’ll have to do it when he’s here and they’re watching TV.  I want you to let me know if a dog walker’s coming, or—heaven forbid, Buddy or Mom.  So you’ve got to be able to see both ways. Oh, and I’ll have Mr. Darcy, whose leash you’ll have to hold until I get out of Buddy’s car. And this is just the beginning!  I want you to help me come up with a plan to get rid of Mr. why-can’t he-use-his-real-first-name Morrow.  Without Mom suspecting, of course.”

            “Of course.  Okay,” he said, grinning.  “We have a mission.  Let me know when you plan this little misdemeanor.” 

            I got up to go. “Will do.  Thanks.”

            “Um, Soph?  Why don’t you just ask him?  Or your mom?”

            “Because they’d both want to know why I wanted to know.”

            “Just say you’re curious.”

            “Yeah.  Right.”
 
The next night…

              Buddy’s car is parked in the driveway, in a spot off to the side of the garage behind our car.  There’s a big light in the oak tree that shines down on the driveway.  All lit up against burglars.  So “caught in the headlights” would definitely be me if anybody saw me sneaking into Buddy’s car.  
    
             Garrett’s standing in his side yard, in the dark.  He has a good view of the door at the top of the stairs to our garage apartment. And he can also see me.   I have Mom’s “indestructible” flashlight that she got in her stocking last Christmas, and Mr. Darcy.  I had to bring him because I’m supposed to be walking him—which I’ll do once my mission is accomplished.  Of course he barked at Garrett, but then he barks at flies, so I’m sure Mom didn’t think anything of it if she heard him.

             Buddy never locks his car when he’s here because this area is gated and also we’re behind the Parker’s big old house.  Plus, there’s a security guy who patrols the area who would arrest his own grandmother.  I want to see Buddy’s proof of insurance paper.  It’s bound to have his full name on it.  And then, we can go from there. 

             Garrett is supposed to whistle if Mom and /or Buddy open the apartment door up on the landing.  I handed Mr. Darcy over to him and raced to the car.  Quiet as a mouse I opened the  passenger door and slid in, punching the glove compartment button as I did.  And guess what?  He left his wallet in there.  No clue why.  Maybe he doesn’t want to sit on it—hurts his sensitive little butt?  Or, maybe he doesn’t want Mom looking in it?????  Aha!  So, I’m going to.

             Francis!  His name is Francis.  Can you believe it?  No wonder he has a nickname. Okay, car insurance papers.  I dig under all kinds of junk and there’s a folder.  Boy! …just what I thought:  Also covered, Mrs. Francis Morrow.   I knew it!  What a total jerk!

            A whistle.  Yikes!  I stuff the wallet and papers back in the glove compartment and hope to goodness whoever it is doesn’t see the light come on in the car as I open the passenger door and slide out.  I close the door as quietly as I can.  Garrett is here with Mr. Darcy, and we disappear into the night—first step accomplished.

            The next afternoon we got off the school bus and went straight to Garrett’s house and his computer.  Google knows everything so we Googled Mr. Francis Morrow.  We asked every question we could think of.  Couldn’t find out everything but it seems Mrs. Morrow is his third wife!  Three!  What did he do with the first two?  Murder them and stuff them in the freezer?  I bet Mom doesn’t know that!  He has also filed for bankruptcy, no less!  Oh, goodie.  Mr. Hot Shot is broke. 

             I was scared to find out any more, although I couldn’t see how it could get any worse.  Of course it did.   Police records showed he was arrested for D&D (drunk and disorderly) the first of the year.  Is this guy a winner or what!  Thing is, if I tell Mom all that, she’ll probably just get mad at me.

               All this gave me a lot to think about.  The next step was going to take more planning.  I was more determined than ever, though, to avoid Mr. Moocher.  That’s what he is.  A moocher.   Mooching off my mother!  I’d be willing to bet anything he doesn’t help with the rent.