Page 620 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Kendall returned just in time to see the man with the mustache step into the pit. His rooster was magnificent. It had a mane of orange hackle feathers with arching black tail feathers. Its opponent was dirty white with matching tail feathers. Their beaks were almost touching when each man shoved his rooster back and forth, teasing the other. Excitement rippled through the crowd. A few of the spectators scrambled to place their bets. Others stood.

“This is a knife fight,” Kendall said. This time he didn’t wait for her to ask but went on with an explanation. “Each rooster wears a single wide blade. This is a quicker and deadlier fight. And the bets soar.”

Sydney’s heart sank. She was too sick to say anything.

“Pit,” the referee yelled. She watched the roosters collide breast to breast in mid-air. It was beak grabbing beak, feet tangling in feathers and wings. Hackles rose like porcupine quills on both roosters. The white bird didn’t waste any time. It attacked the orange bird with a vengeance, slashing it in the face. The crowd went wild, chanting and yelling, reminding Sydney of a scene in a voodoo horror movie. The orange bird went down limping, and the white bird attacked again. This time it put out the orange rooster’s eye.

It was all over from there. They went another round before the white bird finished off his opponent. The magnificent orange bird fell to its side, coughing up blood. The man with the mustache looked at his fallen rooster in disdain before it was dragged away to make room for the next fight.

Sydney’s head started to spin. She tugged on Kendall’s shirt. “I think it’s time to leave.”

Kendall scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. We just got here.”

“I’m sorry Kendall. I don’t feel so—”goodshe was about to say but instead heaved. Vomit exploded all over Kendall.

He looked down at his clothes. “Yuck!”

The men sitting around them jumped back and cringed. Some of them muttered remarks Sydney wished she’d not heard. They could watch roosters massacre each other all day and not be affected, but for some reason, the sight of a woman throwing up was too much for them.

She and Kendall made their way through the sea of people to the door. Sydney looked up and her throat caught. She thought she saw Sean sitting amongst the crowd. Their eyes met for aninstant, and then he turned his face another direction. Was it him? She couldn’t be sure. She strained to get a better look. Before she could, Kendall grabbed her hand and yanked her out the door.

“Let’s go,” Kendall said. “I should’ve known better than to bring you here.”

“Just what does that mean?” she asked, gaining strength from her anger.

“I think you know.”

They got in his truck, and he slammed the door.

14

“THE WISE MAN’S EYES ARE IN HIS HEAD; BUT THE FOOL WALKETH IN DARKNESS.” —ECCLESIASTES 2:14

Ginger’s voice grew incredulous. “He took you to a cock fight?”

Sydney told Ginger how she’d dropped by Kendall’s house and how Mrs. Fletcher had cornered him into taking her on a date.“

Evidently, Kendall had planned on going to the cockfight alone. He never would’ve taken me there on his own accord.”

“Still,” Ginger said in an exaggerated drawl.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not in any hurry to forgive him.” Not that he was asking for her forgiveness. They’d driven home from the cockfight in stony silence with the windows rolled down. Her clothes were crusty and her head pounding by the time they reached his house. Without a word, she got out of his truck. He might’ve been about to apologize, but the look on her face stopped him.

“Have you talked to him since?” Ginger asked.

“Not yet.”

“Well if you ask me, I’d say you’re better off without him.”

Sydney smiled. That was always Ginger’s response when another one of Sydney’s relationships went south. “You’re probably right.”

They talked for a few more minutes with Ginger going on like a chatterbox. Her voice had an unnatural edge like it was about to lift off and take flight. She’d heard that tone before, whenever Ginger was holding something back. “What is it you’re not telling me, Gin?” She gripped the phone and waited. She could just picture how Ginger’s face must look right now. Ginger always had that same expression when she tried to figure out how to put something delicately. Her brow would be furrowed and her round eyes small.

“Just spit it out, Gin. I’m a big girl. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“Adam’s engaged.”

“What?” Sydney’s mouth went dry and she went to the sofa.

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