Page 668 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Ginger told him how Sydney found the meth apparatus at the sawmill and how Sean was in charge of the random drug testing. She watched Mark intently, knowing that the police officer in him would analyze every detail. After a moment he spoke. “Just because this guy, Sean, does the random drug testing for the mill doesn’t mean he’s involved.”

Ginger’s face relaxed. “Well, that’s what I told Sydney, but for some reason she jumped to the conclusion that he was guilty.”

Mark shook his head. “Meth is some dirty stuff. Unfortunately, it’s everywhere now. We deal with it all the time—even have a special unit that goes around disassembling meth labs.” He thought for a moment. “I could run a check on him.”

“I wish you would.” Ginger had already told Sydney that she would ask him. Mark had access to a system at work and could find out about anyone, providing that he had the person’s first and last name and either the date of birth or social security number.

“I’ll need his?—”

Ginger jumped up from the sofa and practically leapt to her purse. She reached in and pulled out a slip of paper and waved it in the air like a prize trophy. “I already have his date of birth.”

Mark reached for the paper and scanned the information. “Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”

Ginger thought for a moment. “Sydney said he was the starting quarterback for his high school football team. Does that help?”

“Sure, if I knew the name of the school.”

Ginger nodded and then reached for the phone. “I’ll call Sydney.”

“Ask her if she knows where he went to college.”

A few minutes later Ginger hung up the phone. “He went to McCullough High School. It’s in a town called The Woodlands on the north side of Houston. Sydney didn’t know which college he attended.”

Mark shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be able to pull it up when I plug his name into the system.” He studied the paper he was holding. “McCullough High. The Woodlands. Why does that sound familiar?” His brows knitted. “Do you remember Dustin Akin?”

“I’m not sure.”“He graduated from the academy with me. He’s from The Woodlands, and I believe he went to that same high school.”

Ginger broke into a smile. Mark’s knack for remembering details never ceased to amaze her. He was always spouting off tidbits of information about people. “It’s a small world, especially among police officers.”

Mark shook his head and laughed. He held up the paper. “All this readily available information. Why do I get the feeling that I’ve been set up?”

She batted her eyelashes. “Would I do that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Most definitely.”

A mischievous smile crept across her mouth as she sat down beside him and gave him a long kiss that left them both a little breathless. He drew back and put his arm around her. She reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers withhis. “Thanks for running the check. I worry about Sydney sometimes.”

He nodded. “She needs to be careful. If some of those people at the mill are taking drugs …” He let the sentence lag. “When people get involved in that, there’s no telling what they might do.”

Mark’s words felt more like an omen than an opinion. Ginger had never told Mark the real reason Sydney was in Stoney Creek. She had wanted to several times but had given Sydney her word that she wouldn’t. “Sydney’s smart. She’ll be careful.” Even as she spoke the words, she hoped that would be the case.

Sydney putthe bag of groceries on the counter and took out a container of chocolate chip cookies. She smiled as she remembered her first visit to Hazel’s house. She pictured Hazel’s eager expression when she devoured the entire plate of cookies.

She made her way over to Hazel’s with the cookies, her step so light that she resisted the impulse to skip. Stella was right. Serving other people was therapeutic—just what she needed to escape her own problems. It felt especially good to do things for Hazel because she was so appreciative of the smallest gesture. The familiar fragrance of magnolias floated through the air like tender notes of music when Sydney approached the house.

“Giv’er back! I want to hold the cat. You’re gonna hurt him!”

Sydney strained to hear the conversation taking place behind Hazel’s house.

“No, I’m first. Wally, you said I could be first. Giv’er here! Louellen was first last time. I’m telling Mama!”

Sydney stopped dead in her tracks. Was that Hazel’s voice? It sounded like a child’s.

“Just because you’re my big brother doesn’t mean you get to pick who’s first every time. And besides, I know what you’ll do. I saw you put that kitten in Mamma’s pillowcase with a rock. You’ll throw my cat in the creek just like you did that kitten.” Her voice crescendoed. “I won’t let you drown my cat. You’re mean, Wally. Everybody thinks you’re nice, but you’re mean!”

Sydney peeked around the corner of the house. Even though she knew better, she halfway expected to see Hazel talking to two children. Instead, she saw Hazel sitting on the steps with Dixie lying across her lap. Her hands were waving through the air as she spoke to her imaginary companions.

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