Page 592 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Next, a short middle-aged man extended a limp hand to Sydney. “I’m Dean Moore the accountant for the sawmill.”

An older lady stood and smiled at Sydney. “I’m Louellen Jackson, the mill’s bookkeeper and payroll clerk.”

“Hello Louellen, nice to meet you.” There was a quiet dignity about the stately gray-haired woman that was a stark contrast to Barb’s tartness. Her appearance was impeccable. It was obviousthat Louellen had been a beauty in her day. Maybe this was someone she could be friends with.

“Louellen’s been here longer than anyone,” Sean said. “She’s the historian around here.”

Sydney made a mental note to remember that.

Sean introduced her to a couple of other men and then looked around. “Where’s Buck? And Van Allen?”

“Van Allen’s on vacation this week,” Louellen said.

“And Buck?”

“Knowing him, he could be anywhere.” Joe Slaton chuckled. Everyone except Sean laughed.

“I’ll have to introduce you to them later. Van Allen is our lumber salesman, and Buck Gibson is our mill foreman.”

Sydney had a thousand questions she would like to ask, including who made the wise crack about her, but decided that it was not the time or the place.

After everyone left, Sean turned to Sydney. “You’ve probably already noticed that we’re short on office space.” He pointed. “There’s an empty desk over by the window in the conference room that you can use. I’ll catch up with you later on this afternoon.”

CallingAdam Sinclair was the last thing Sydney had planned to do. It was one of those things that just happened. Quite possibly it was the combination of her awful day at work and visit to the grocery store that culminated in her temporary lapse in good judgment. After her initial meeting with Sean O’Conner, she sat in the conference room, waiting for him to do as he’d promised and “catch up with her later on in the afternoon.” When he never came, she went looking for him. He wasn’t inhis office or in the building. She could have asked his secretary where he’d gone but decided it would be best to avoid the demon woman at all costs. She asked Louellen and Dean. Neither of them knew the whereabouts of Sean or where the accident records were kept.

At five o’clock, Sydney called it a wash and left. She couldn’t very well conduct an inspection of the sawmill in her silk shirt and open-toed sandals. Tomorrow she would come to work dressed appropriately so she could explore the sawmill on her own. Sean O’Conner might have pigeon-holed her today, but it wouldn’t happen again.

She left work and went straight to the Piggly Wiggly to do some major grocery shopping. Things had been so hectic since her arrival in town that she’d bought only the bare necessities. Peanut butter and jelly was all she had to eat at her house, and the very thought of choking down one more sticky sandwich was enough to make her gag.

At the grocery store, when she walked down the aisles, every person in the store stopped what they were doing and stared at her. It was as if she were an alien from a foreign planet. She was: Ft. Worth. Everyone in the store seemed to know where they belonged. She watched the ladies talking amongst themselves in the aisles. They had so much to say to each other. She had nothing. Where did she belong?

Back home, Sydney opened her front door and went inside. She listened to the lonely whistle from the nearby train. That’s when she decided to call Adam. She hadn’t heard from him since she left Ft. Worth. Her fingers punched the buttons by instinct, and she waited for him to answer. After the fourth ring, she was about to hang up when his voice came over the line.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

When he paused, she knew that calling him was a terrible mistake. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

She searched for something to say. “How’s work?”

“Hectic, like always.”

Silence.

“Look, I know things haven’t been that great between us,” she said, fumbling for words. “But I was just hoping that …” She stopped. Was that laughter she heard in the background? A girl’s laughter? “Who’s there with you?”

He snorted. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

“It was just a simple question.”

Her hand gripped the phone. His silence told her all she needed to know.

Her voice broke. “Did I not mean anything to you?”

“You made your decision. It’s too late to come crying back now. Grow up, Sydney,” she heard him say. She hung up.

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