Page 587 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“I lived with my aunt until she passed away a couple of years ago.” She waited for him to interject something here. When he remained quiet, she continued. “I attended Texas Christian University and earned a bachelor of science in business administration and recently a master’s in industrial hygiene. I wrote a thesis on OSHA regulations and sawmills. I’ve co-oped for several summers at paper mills in the South, and I’ve spent a lot of time at the sawmills I have listed on my resume. I worked with the personnel at the South Peak Sawmill and helped them resolve some of their safety issues.”

Mr. Roberts leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. “How familiar are you with our operations?”

“I know that both the paper mill and sawmill are owned by The Chamberland Corp., and the sawmill was privately owned until a few years ago. I’m also aware of the safety problems at the sawmill.”

He nodded. “Impressive. Before we get into the safety issues, let me tell you a little history about the sawmill. Chamberland decided to purchase it because it was one of their major suppliers of hardwood chips.” He crossed his legs and tugged at his belt. “Since that time, there have been a slew of accidents. Most of them were minor until an employee was killed on May 15thwhen he fell from the steel beams of a lumber sorter to theconcrete floor below. This spurred an inspection from OSHA, during which several other serious violations were cited. It’s my job to find a safety expert to ensure that we not only pass the next OSHA inspection, but that we prevent this from happening again.”

Sydney nodded and mentally reviewed the information she’d learned about the sawmill. That particular accident prompted OSHA to levy a $147,000 fine.

“We’re looking at signing a twelve-month contract with the safety consultant we hire. OSHA will make follow-up visits during that period of time, and we want to be prepared.” Mr. Roberts looked down at his desk. “Your resume indicates you have a master’s degree in industrial hygiene.” He paused. “May I call you Sydney?”

“Sure.”

“Sydney, your credentials are impeccable, and it’s helpful that you’ve co-oped at several sawmills during the summers while you were attending college.” He perched his glasses on his nose and looked over them, giving Sydney the impression that she was being reprimanded by a school principal instead of being interviewed for a job. “I’ll be frank with you. This is a tough assignment. Working in a sawmill with a bunch of uneducated, backward, loggers could …” He shook his head. “Well, it could seem like one long root canal. I know I could get in trouble for talking openly to you, but the fact of the matter is that most men couldn’t handle this job. It’s rough at that sawmill, and you would be required to visit the outlying woodlands to investigate safety concerns of employees. It’s worse out there because it’s totally isolated.”

Sydney could tell right away where this was going. She had to find a way to convince him that she was the right fit for the job. She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mr. Roberts, I’ve always been interested in safety since I was a young girl. Whenthe recruiter told me you were looking for a consultant who could come in and help get the safety issues resolved at the sawmill before your OSHA inspection, I jumped at the chance. I’ve done a great deal of research on your company and the safety problems at the hardwood sawmill here. I want to work somewhere where I can make a difference.” She paused and looked him in the eye. “I know that I can make a difference here if given the chance. Most companies think you have to be a man to know about safety, and that’s just not true.” She leveled her stare at him until he began to squirm. She wasn’t going to budge an inch.

Mr. Roberts broke his eyes away from hers.

“Does that mean you’re not going to give me a chance?” Sydney asked, trying to control the emotion in her voice.

“No, I didn’t say that young lady. All I’m saying is that I’ll have to think about this.”

“I know my business, Mr. Roberts. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

He stood and shook hands with her. “I appreciate your coming in today. I’ll think about it and let you know. There are other applicants that we’ll be interviewing, but we’ll stay in touch.”

Sydney hardly noticed the interested looks that the men passing her in the hall cast in her direction as she left the office.

She knew Jake Roberts had no intention of hiring her. She also knew that he would indeed hire her. Her ace in the hole would guarantee it. She got to her car and reached for her phone.

One call to the right person would be enough to sway Jake Roberts in her direction.

3

“AS A BIRD THAT WANDERETH FROM HER NEST, SO IS A MAN THAT WANDERETH FROM HIS PLACE.” —PROVERBS 27:8

After the long, dusty drive from Ft. Worth, Stoney Creek was an oasis in the desert. Sydney drank in the lush, rolling hills sparsely dotted with modest houses and wooden fences. The mountains were so close she could make out the outlines of the trees with their varying shades of greens that looked like variegated shag carpet.

The scenery had started changing in Mississippi, where a string of stalwart pines lined the interstate on each side, their branches lifting high to hold hands with each other in the sky. But it wasn’t until she crossed the Tennessee state line that a tingle of excitement crept up her spine. A few more miles into Alabama and the sky was turning bluer by the minute. A mimosa tree caught her attention. It was covered from head to toe with pink, fuzzy tufts that from a distance looked more like a flamingo convention than a tree. She rolled down her window, expecting to get a whiff of fresh air. Instead, the sulfuric stench of the paper mill hit her full force. The smell was a powerful reminder of her reason for coming to Stoney Creek. A shadow of fear lurked underneath her thin layer of optimism. She started to roll up the window and use the air conditioner instead but thoughtbetter of it. She might as well get used to it. It was the smell of home. At least for a while anyway. She eased off the accelerator.

If the rest of the world were moving at a minute’s pace, then Stoney Creek was parked way back on the hour hand and not in any hurry to catch up. The Piggly Wiggly was a stark contrast to the posh cobblestone grocery stores in Ft. Worth. It was the main attraction in a strip mall constructed of dull metal that had zero aesthetic appeal. The film of dust and grime covering the sign had settled so inconspicuously over the years that it was as integral a part of the building as the windows and doors. She looked the other direction to see Jack’s,a fast food restaurant.

“What the heck!”

Sydney’s knuckles went white, and she gripped the steering wheel to keep from being thrown into the dash. She hit her brakes and pulled the weaving jeep to a halt on the side of the road and got out to inspect the damage. Her left front tire was in shreds with shards of metal poking through. She had a spare on the back of the jeep but had no idea how to put it on. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and leaned over the driver’s seat so she could rummage through her purse for her cell phone. What were the chances of getting Triple A to come out here?

A low whistle caught her attention, and she turned to see a man walking up beside the jeep.

“Looks like you could use a hand.”

Sydney pushed the “end” button on her cell phone and lowered her phone from her ear.

“Yeah, I was just driving when the tire blew. I’m not sure what caused it. I must’ve run over something.”

The man bent down to study the tire, giving Sydney a chance to get a good look at him. Her pulse increased, and she steadied herself. He was a little older than she. His medium brown hair was crew cut, giving his head a squared effect. Hazel eyes specked with green flecks set a little too far apart in his faceemphasized a slightly crooked nose that looked like it had been broken a couple of times. She liked his chin most of all. It was strong and sure, the perfect match for his easy smile. His jeans and t-shirt seemed to be an extension of his muscular body. At first she thought he was a half a head taller than her, but after getting a good look at him, she realized he was probably a mere three inches taller. The extra height came from his leather boots. He stood and dusted his jeans then went around the back to retrieve her spare.

He changed the ruined tire in five minutes flat. It was refreshing to see a man use his hands so adroitly. She reached for her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

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