Page 702 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Just shut up!” Kendall raised his hand to strike her. He balled his hand into a fist and lowered it to his leg before it reached her face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I never sold any drugs to Reggie or any of my other football players. He got it from someone else.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re dealing the drugs. You might as well have given them to Reggie yourself!”

Kendall didn’t respond.

“What about your mom and Emma? Don’t you care about them? Think what it’ll do to them if they ever find out what you’re doing. You said you didn’t know what would’ve become of you and your family if Walter hadn’t stepped in. Well, maybe you wouldn’t have become a drug dealer! Maybe you wouldn’t have that cabin in the woods and the four-wheelers and all those other toys! You just might’ve been the kind, decent person I thought you were!”

Kendall brought the truck to a squealing halt in front of the warehouse. “There’s been enough talk! Get out!”

Sydney threw openthe door and bolted from the truck. She made it a mere hundred yards before Kendall tackled her to the ground.

“Dumb move, Sydney. Real dumb.” He jerked her to her feet and held her by the arm. They both looked toward Kendall’s truck. Walter pulled up behind it and got out.

“I’m sure sorry it had to come to this,” Walter said, walking toward them. “And you can wipe that hateful expression off your face, young lady, because this is all your fault. I gave you a job because I felt sorry for you.” He shook his head. “I should’ve known better. You’re just like Avery. He was like an old dog, always sniffin’ for that bone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince him to let it go.”

“And you killed him for it.”

“Yes, it was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. Avery was like a brother to me.”

Sydney scoffed. “Some brother.”

“A couple of days before he died, Avery told me that he’d gone down to the log yard in the middle of the night and saw some of the men stealing from the mill. I told him to let me take care of it, but he wouldn’t listen. Now whether or not he suspected that I was behind it all, I don’t know. He told me that he’d already spoken to Judge Crawford from Glendale and that he had an appointment to meet with him. That’s when I knew that I had to do something. His death was a senseless waste.” His eyes met hers. “Just as yours will be.”

She turned to Kendall. He was her only chance. “Are you hearing what he’s saying? He’s a murderer. You’re not like him, Kendall. Listen to me!” She saw something, perhaps it was a flicker of compassion. Maybe she was getting through to him.

She glanced at Walter. He was eying Kendall with concern. Perhaps he had seen it too—that momentary hesitation in Kendall’s expression. Walter’s eyes met Sydney’s. “You andKendall have more in common than you realize. Who do you think rigged up the boat that killed Avery?”

The very air seemed to hold its breath and Sydney waited for Walter to continue.

“It was J. W., Kendall’s father.”

Sydney’s mind reeled. She wondered if this was the first time Kendall had heard this. Images of J. W. ran through her mind. J. W. and his boisterous laugh. J. W. making a fire in the pasture so she and Emma could roast marshmallows. J. W.’s kind eyes and broad smile.

“No, I don’t believe it. Don’t listen to him, Kendall. He’s lying.”

Walter’s voice went smooth like velvet. “Why would I lie about that? J. W. worked for me at the mill before he went to work for the highway department. He knew explosives like the back of his hand. He took care of both problems: Avery and Judge Crawford.”

“Is that why J. W. committed suicide?”

Walter ignored her comment and looked at Kendall. “Son, I should’ve told you about that a long time ago. You were so torn up over J. W.’s death.” Walter’s voice broke. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you hurt any more than you already were.”

“W-what? Sydney directed her words to Kendall. “What kind of rubbish is Walter feeding you? Surely you don’t believe any of it. J. W. probably committed suicide because he couldn’t live with fact that he’d killed two innocent people. If that’s the case, then Walter’s responsible for his death too.”

Kendall gripped Sydney’s arm harder. “You’d do best not to talk about things that you don’t understand. My dad killed himself because he was weak.”

Walter reached in his jacket and retrieved a pistol. “Well, now you know the full story. There’s only one point of interestleft.” He pointed the pistol at Sydney’s chest. “Now where is the journal?”

She swallowed hard. Her eyes remained fixed on the pistol. “I told you. The journal was stolen.”

“Not good enough,” Walter said. Kendall took his cue and jerked Sydney’s arm, pinning it behind her back.

She bent over in pain. “Kendall, you’re hurting me.”

“Tell us where the journal is.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know.”

“It’s a pity you won’t tell us,” Walter said. “But I’m sure Stella will … one way or the other. Now I’ll have to take care of Stella, and she can thank you for that.”

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