Page 653 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Sydney, if you don’t mind, we’ll come back some other time so that you and Walter can get better acquainted. Right now, I need to talk to him about football.”

“Sure.” Sydney forced a smile. She was relieved that she didn’t have to go through any more pretense with Walter, but alittle annoyed with Kendall’s attitude. “I noticed your library on the way in. If it’s okay with you, Walter, I’ll take a look around.”

“You go right ahead,” Walter said.

Memories rushed back when Sydney thought of the many times she’d been sent to the library to play while her dad and Walter talked about business. She’d forgotten how cold the room was. She rubbed her arms and looked around. Very little had changed. The world globe, the size of a beach ball, stood in a corner. Walter’s football books lined the shelf nearest the window. The ornate Oriental rug where she’d played looked the same.

Sydney sat in an overstuffed leather chair and closed her eyes. She was grateful for Maurene’s love of fine things as she covered herself with the plush throw that was draped over the arm of the chair.

She awoke to the smell of alcohol before she saw the face. It took a second for her mind to register that it was Maurene, not an apparition that loomed over her. Maurene’s bloodshot eyes were bulging and one side of her flimsy white nightgown had fallen down below her shoulder. Sydney tried to shrink back from the hideous expression that was only inches from her face. Maurene’s breathing was heavy and raspy.

Before Sydney could say anything, Maurene was gone.

Sydney sat upright. Her body trembled. She tried to make sense of what had just happened. That’s when she heard the loud voices. Walter and Kendall looked up when Sydney entered into the room.

“What’s going on? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine.” Walter stood. His smile looked strained. “This young man of yours is a stubborn mule. He came all the way here to ask my opinion, and now he’s arguing with me about football.”

Kendall was glaring at Walter, and his face was red. She knew that people in Stoney Creek were serious about football, but this was ridiculous. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Walter,” he said. He gathered his papers from the table. “It’s just that I’ve worked so hard on this, and I thought you would agree with me, that’s all.”

Walter went over and put his hand on Kendall’s shoulder. “Everything will go fine. I promise you that.”

Sydney was amazed at the impact that Walter’s small gesture had on Kendall. All the tension seemed to leave him instantaneously. Walter turned to Sydney. “Now, young lady, you have to get this rascal to bring you back when y’all can stay longer. We’ll talk about something other than football.”

“Thanks, I will,” she said, looking at Kendall.

They made their way to the door. Sydney turned and saw Maurene standing on the stairs. Icy fingers pricked at her skin when Maurene’s eyes met hers. Sydney locked the picture away to be replayed over and over a thousand times in her mind. Why did she look like the face of death?

25

“THAT WHICH IS CROOKED CANNOT BE MADE STRAIGHT.”—ECCLESIASTES 1:15

No matter how hard she tried, Sydney couldn’t ever get any of the things she cooked to turn out right. She wedged her spatula under the bottom of a cookie.Yuckand thenouch!when she accidentally touched the hot metal cookie sheet. The cookies were charred on the bottom. Unsalvageable. What went wrong? She’d followed the directions on the back of the Nestle chocolate chip bag right down to the letter. She propped her hand on her hip and frowned. In two swift strides she walked to the garbage can and raked the cookies into it. So much for a home-baked treat. She’d have to go to the Piggly Wiggly and get something for her neighbor instead.

The image of Hazel was so vivid in her mind that she could have sworn she caught a whiff of magnolia in the air. She had mixed emotions where Hazel was concerned. The fact that Hazel was always watching everything she did was a constant irritant, but a part of her felt sorry for her neighbor. From what Sydney could tell, the woman had very few, if any, visitors. All she had was her cat to keep her company.

She was hoping that if she introduced herself then maybe Hazel would be less suspicious.At least I will have done my part. There was another reason too. Since the incident with thelittle Nolan girl, she’d been unable to get that family out her mind. She wanted to help them but wasn’t sure how. However, she could do something nice for Hazel Finch. And she could do it today.

Forty minutes later, Sydney stood on Hazel’s porch, balancing the plate of Piggly Wiggly’s finest deli cookies in one hand while reaching for the doorbell with the other. The main door was open, but the glass storm door closed. She peered inside, feeling more like a Peeping Tom than a concerned neighbor. The room was dark, but she caught a glimpse of a tweed recliner. She was about to place the cookies on the doormat when she saw Hazel peeping around the corner. It was an awkward situation. Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it went up to wave at Hazel. There she stood with a silly grin on her face.

“I just wanted to say hello,” Sydney said, hoping her voice would carry through the glass door. “I brought you some cookies. I’ll just put them here.” She jumped. Something furry rubbed against her ankle. She looked down to see Hazel’s orange cat, purring like a motor.

That was all the encouragement Hazel needed. She walked to the door and opened it, bending down to retrieve the cat. “Dixie, where’ve you been you naughty girl? Mama’s been lookin’ for you, yes she has.” Hazel brought the cat up to her cheek and folded into it like a soft blanket.

For a second Sydney feared she would turn and go back into her house without so much as speaking. Instead, Hazel reached for the plate of cookies, a smile curving her ample cheeks. Still holding the cat, she brought the plate, Saran Wrap and all, to her nose and inhaled. “I just love chocolate chip cookies.”

Sydney suppressed a smile. She could picture Hazel scarfing down the cookies in one big gulp.

Hazel turned to go inside and looked back over her shoulder. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

“Um … yes, of course.”

Hazel put Dixie on the couch and dug into the plate of cookies. Sydney realized right away that she couldn’t depend on Hazel to follow the rules of etiquette and invite her to have a seat, so she sat down on the couch next to Dixie. The living room was stuffed with a hodgepodge of furniture, ranging from fine antiques to yard sale junk. It was amazing how someone could cram so many things into one room. A large hanging basket filled with plastic ivy and pink silk hibiscus flowers took up the bulk of the picture window. Tall artificial palm trees stood like toy soldiers in each corner of the room. A decorative fan splattered with a variety of tropical flowers hung on the wall behind the couch.

She heard the canary before she saw it. The bright yellow bird was perched inside its cage, chirping happily. Sydney smiled. The bird was the crowning touch to the room. She looked at the French provincial couch with its jade green and cream brocade pattern sitting next to the raggedy tweed recliner. Why not have a cat and a canary? Somehow, it just fit.

The magnolia scent was tempered with the smell of cats, birds, and mildew. A picture in a flimsy metal frame caught Sydney’s attention. She recognized Hazel right away in her muu muu. This one was white and flowing in the wind. She had her arm tightly clasped around the waist of a man who looked to be about her same age. He was frail in comparison to her bulky frame. His jeans were rolled up at the ankles, revealing sunburned bare feet. They were both smiling.

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