Page 670 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“What can I do for you, Miss Lassiter?”

Sydney retrieved a small notebook from her purse and cleared her throat. “I understand that you worked as a foreman at the sawmill a few years ago.”

“That’s right. I’ve been gone from there for about eight or nine years.” Lewis reached in his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum. “Want one?”

“No thanks.”

He removedthe wrapper and folded the stick into a neat square before placing it in his mouth. “I’m investigating some accidents at the mill and wondered if you could tell me what kind of accidents happened when you were there.”Lewis shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. “Miss Lassiter, I don’t see how anything that happened at the mill that long ago could have anything to do with what’s happening now. Besides, I can’t think of anything unusual that happened while I was there. There were always the run-of-the-mill accidents, like cut fingers, sawdust in people’s eyes. That sort of thing.”

Sydney studied Lewis’ face. She wasn’t making any progress. She swallowed hard and decided to plunge in. “Do you remember Buford Phillips’ death, Mr. Jackson? Didn’t that happen while you were there? Wasn’t that an unusual occurrence?”

She watched his eyes. He was startled by her question, though he fought hard not to show it. For a split second, she saw something. What was it? Fear? Anger?

“I hate to speak evil of the dead, but Buford Phillips was a drunk. I think it was pretty much established at the time of the accident that it was his fault.”

“Oh, I see.” Sydney looked down at her notes. “Can you tell me of any other unusual accidents during that time that come toyour mind? For instance, in the lumber yard or maybe in the log yard with some of the trucks?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Her eyes met his. “Did you know Avery McClain?”

The air seemed to stand still. “Yes.”

“Do you not remember an incident where a chain broke and logs rolled off and almost killed him?”

Lewis’ face went white. Sydney looked down and pretended to check her notes. “No, I’m mistaken. The chain didn’t break.” Her eyes lifted and met his in a direct challenge. “It was cut.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who gave you that information?” His face was flushed and his eyes narrowed.“

I read it in some of the old files.”

“No you didn’t. You’re lying. Who are you, and why are you really here? You’re fishing for information.”

Her heart began to pound. “Why did you leave the sawmill, Mr. Jackson?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“When the loggers came to you, complaining about being shorted on their loads, why did you ignore them? Why didn’t you do something?”

Lewis’ face went black. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but it’s time for you to leave.”

“What are you hiding, Mr. Jackson? Avery McClain was killed in an explosion. Do you know anything about that?”

He jumped up so fast that for a moment she feared he would attack her. “You’ve got about two seconds to get out of my store.”

She stood. Without another word she turned on her heel and left.

Lewis watchedher get into the jeep and drive away. He picked up the phone. “I know we agreed not to talk, but Sydney Lassiter was just here. Something has to be done.”

It tooka good ten minutes for Sydney’s pulse to return to normal. As she drove back to Stoney Creek, she replayed her conversation with Lewis. He was guilty. She was sure of it. Or at the very least, he knew something about Avery’s death. She hadn’t intended to question him about Avery. In her anger the words had slipped out. Lewis’ words seared her mind. Who are you? Why are you really here?Hers was a precarious situation. She wanted to find the answers she so desperately needed, but she aroused suspicion every time she asked those crucial questions.

Lewis was angry. Angry enough to start snooping around in her business? Why had she been so careless? If only she’d not gotten so incensed. Maybe then she could have questioned him in a less confrontational way.

She shook her head and slung her hair back out of her face. She was tired of second-guessing herself. Tired of all the headaches at the mill and tired of being sick and tired. So what if Lewis was suspicious? So what? It didn’t make any difference. Someone broke into her home and stole Avery’s journal. Anyone reading that journal could put two and two together to figure out whom she was. It was only a matter of time.

Sydney pickedup one of the huge floral pillows and examined it. She gave it a squeeze and a clip from a Charmin commercial flashed in her mind.Don’t squeeze the Charmin. “Are these pillows new?”

Stella’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Yes, I thought the living room could use some color.”

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