Page 669 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“EVEN IN LAUGHTER THE HEART IS SORROWFUL.” —PROVERBS 14:13

Sydney walked past Barb’s desk and reached in her cubicle to retrieve her mail. She leafed through her mail and then stopped. “Barb, why was this catalog put in my box?”

Barb looked at what Sydney was holding. “Oh that. Talley Equipment has been sending us safety equipment catalogs for years.” She shrugged. “I just thought you might like to look at it.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that. But, it’s addressed to Lewis Jackson.”

“Yeah, Lewis used to work here a long time ago. He was one of our foremen. You’d think the people sending out that catalog would have enough sense to update their list. Lewis hasn’t worked here for over ten years.”

The name rang a bell. Lewis: why did that name sound so familiar? Then it hit her. Avery mentioned Lewis in his journal. He was the foreman who had dismissed the logger’s claims that they were being shorted on their loads. Avery had written that just before he wrote about the incident with the tumbling logs that almost killed him. She had asked Louellen about Lewis the same time she had asked her about Cecil Prichard. She remembered that Louellen had acted funny when she had asked about Lewis. Now she wondered. Could this be the same Lewis?She had assumed that Lewis was the man’s last name, not his first.

Sydney looked up and realized that Barb was studying her. “I believe this is the same man I asked Louellen about. She told me he was dead. Do you know how he died?”

Barb’s eyes went wide and then she doubled over in laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Dead my foot. Lewis is no more dead than you or me. He owns a sporting goods store over in Glendale.” Sydney shook her head. “Maybe Louellen was talking about a different Lewis.”

Barb reached for a tissue and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “I doubt it.”

“Well, then why did she tell me that?”

“Because Lewis Jackson’s her ex husband, that’s why. She hates his guts.”

Lewis Jackson’s sportinggoods store was located just off the town square in Glendale. Sydney parked her jeep in front of the store. A bell rang when she opened the door, announcing her arrival. A deep baritone voice sounded from the back of the store. “I’ll be with you in a moment.

”The wooden floor creaked under Sydney’s feet. The mingled smells of leather and vinyl seeped into her system. It was like one of those old dime stores, except instead of candy she saw an assortment of brightly colored sweatshirts and T-shirts, all bearing the logos of state universities. Tables were piled high with sporting accessories. One wall was covered with tennis and racquetball rackets. The other displayed football helmets, baseball caps, and bats.

She heard the same male voice again and then a woman’s voice coming from the back of the store. Sydney eased her way in that direction to see if she could get a look at the man. Hopefully he would turn out to be Lewis Jackson. She saw the woman first. She was in her late thirties and was trim with a dark tan, despite the cool weather.Fake and bake in the tanning bedGinger would say. Her medium brown hair was stylishly cut so that it wisped around her chin. A small boy tugged at the young woman’s leg, vying for her attention. At first she was oblivious to the boy, but after a few tugs, she relented and bent over to talk to him.

Sydney turned her gaze to the man and realized he had already seen her. He was looking her over while continuing his conversation with the other woman. The woman turned to see what had caught his attention.

Sydney pretended to take interest in a set of golf clubs.

The man made his way up to the front of the store with the woman and her child following. “Grace, it’ll take about two weeks for those clubs to arrive. I’ll call you when they come.”

“Remember, Lewis, if Henry calls, you don’t know a thing. I want this to be a surprise.”

Lewis chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not the one who let it slip last time. You were.”

The woman looked sheepish and made a motion like she was zipping her lips. “No slip-ups this time. Call me,” she mouthed then walked out the door.

He winked.

Sydney had positioned herself behind a clothes rack so she could watch the exchange. She’d asked herself a million times why Louellen had told her that Lewis was dead. Maybe it was all as simple as Barb had made it out to be. Maybe Louellen hated his guts so much that she considered him dead. But why did shelie? Was there more to it? Was she protecting someone? Who? Lewis? Herself?

Lewis Jackson was in his mid sixties and very attractive. His southern drawl was so cultured that the words rolled out like a ballad. His crisp polo shirt and gray slacks seemed to be an extension of his athletic frame. His silver hair and steel gray eyes complemented his tanned skin and white teeth. He looked like he walked straight out of a golfing magazine. It wasn’t hard to see why the woman in the store was hanging on his every word. He was a picture of southern grace.

“Can I help you?” Lewis walked toward Sydney, giving her a friendly smile as he approached. She wasn’t prepared for those shameless eyes that raked her over from head to toe. Yes, he was certainly a ladies’ man. His eyes, his walk, everything about him sent a clear message that he was on the make, and at the moment, she just happened to be his closest target. Irritation pricked her.

Should she pretend to be a customer or get straight to the point? “Yes. My name is Sydney Lassiter, and I’m a consultant for Chamberland Sawmill. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Lewis’ smile remained on his face, but his eyes went cold. Or was she so convinced of his guilt that she imagined it? He glanced at his watch, and she had the feeling he was contemplating whether or not to talk to her. “Sydney,” he said, “I’ll be glad to talk to you if you’ll give me a minute to close up, and then we’ll go back to my office.”

“Miss or Mrs.?”Lewis asked. He motioned to a seat directly across from his desk.

He wasn’t missing any tricks. “Miss.”

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