Page 614 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Huh?”

“I mean … um … what I meant is that it sounds like a perfect job.”

Emma laughed. “It has its moments.”

Kendall came up behind Sydney and put his hands on her shoulders. “Hey now, Sydney’s my date. Don’t monopolize her.”

Emma winked at Sydney and stuck her tongue out at Kendall.

“Come on,” Kendall said. “I want you to meet Mama.”

They followed the appetizing aroma to the kitchen. Gail Fletcher’s face broke into a smile when she saw them enter the room. She wiped her hands on her apron and pushed her glasses up farther on her nose.

“Hello, Sydney,” Mrs. Fletcher said softly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Even as Sydney shook Mrs. Fletcher’s hand, she noticed the cedar cabinets that reached the ceiling and a memory surfaced.

“Kendall tells me you’re from Ft. Worth.”

Sydney nodded. All the while her mind was going back to that night when she and Emma had decided to make a cake after everyone else went to bed. They could only find one cake pan, so they poured all the batter into it and then turned the oven up to 500 degrees so the cake would cook faster. When batter started pouring over the sides, the smoke from the oven set off the fire alarm. They took a cookie sheet and madly fanned the alarm, but the smoke was too thick. J. W. came running into the kitchen and gave them both a good scolding.

Sydney pushed away her memories and focused on what Mrs. Fletcher was saying. She was spacing out far too often. She had to remind herself that these memories were Cindy’s, not Sydney’s. It was all so confusing. Her identities were colliding, and she knew that she’d better get a hold of herself and keep them separate.

“Supper’s almost done,” Mrs. Fletcher said. “Kendall, you and Sydney go on back in the living room. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Sydney walked over to the fireplace to get a better look at the pictures on the mantle. There was one of a teenage Kendall wearing his football uniform. She could tell from his disheveled hair and the grass stains smeared on his jersey that the picture had been taken right after a game. J. W.’s face was the epitome of a proud father as they smiled into the camera.

A pang of sadness wrenched Sydney’s gut. It was hard to believe that J. W. had committed suicide. He was rambunctious and so full of life, more like Emma than Kendall. He and Avery had been good friends, and he even worked at the sawmill for a short time. What she remembered most about J. W. was that every year on the Fourth of July he was responsible for setting off the fireworks. People would come for miles around and gather on the lake to watch the spectacular show. One time she heard Avery tell Susan that J. W. was the driving force behind the fireworks. J. W. was the only one in Stoney Creek with enough knowledge of explosives to pull off such a feat, he said.

She reached for the picture. “Is this your father?”

“Yeah, that’s my dad,” Kendall said.

She waited for him to say more but the silence loomed.

“Our father died,” Emma added.

Sydney studied her friend’s face and waited for her to explain. “I’m so sorry. How?” The question came out before Sydney could call it back.

Emma started to speak, then stopped when she saw the look of warning on Kendall’s face.

“It’s not important,” Kendall said.

Sydney watched the exchange between the siblings. J. W.’s death was obviously not something Kendall wished to discuss. What had she seen in Kendall’s eyes? Hurt? Anger?

If only he knew how much they had in common.

Sydney steppedonto her front porch and caught a whiff of magnolias floating in the air. She looked next door, and sure enough, there was her neighbor in her front yard, piddling around in her flower garden. She’d asked Tess about the woman. Surprisingly, Tess didn’t know a whole lot, only the woman’s name and that she was from Stoney Creek but had lived in Hawaii. According to Tess, Hazel had been back in Stoney Creek for about five years. “Except for a sister who visits occasionally, Hazel pretty much keeps to herself. It’s probably just as well,” Tess said in a whisper. “She’s a strange duck.”

This time, Sydney got a good look at Hazel Finch. Her figure was round, and she wore a loose floral muu muu, much like the one Sydney had seen her in that first day. This one was purple instead of orange. She wore a lei made of silk flowers around her neck. She peeped over her wire-rimmed glasses at Sydney, her tiny eyes sparkling with curiosity. Sydney chuckled. She’s as interested in me as I am in her. Sydney couldn’t decide who she reminded her of the most: Aunt Bea or Cinderella’s fairy godmother. She looked at her watch and then at the sky. No time for introductions today. She’d have to hurry in order to get her run in before dark.

With every pound of the pavement, Sydney’s tension eased a little more. Running was the best stress reliever in the world. She enjoyed the rhythm her breathing created as she became one with the pavement. She ran across the viaduct and then headed toward town, her mind alternating between Sean and Kendall. The two men were like dueling forces. Sean hadn’t mentioned anything more about Sydney’s background, and Sydney doubted he would. He was so pleasant at the safety meeting yesterday, almost as though the exchange between them hadn’t taken place. Kendall was always polite on the surface, but Sydney sensed that some deep emotions were churning inside him. She wished he would open up and tell her what he was feeling. She laughed out loud at the irony of her thoughts. As much as she liked Kendall, she wouldn’t dream of telling him who she really was.

She ran past a vacant dilapidated building. It still had the wordGroceryprinted across the front. Beside it wasMurdock’sdress shop. Her mother loved to shop atMurdock’sand often took Cindy with her. Without fail, Cindy would end up playing in the front window with the mannequins while her mother shopped. She thought about the abandoned grocery store. Who built it? Why did it fail andMurdock’ssucceed? What were the owners thinking? Did their dreams collapse when they closed their store or did they just move on to another dream?

She’d been trying to get to the heart of Stoney Creek since she moved back here. She looked at all the venerable shops with their glass windows popping out like eyes, watching the town. They’d been here for years and would still be standing many years to come. Was that where the heart was? In the buildings? Maybe it was the collective will of the people. Were they really connected or just strangers living side by side in their separate houses?

She left the downtown area and ran toward the park, which was a gathering place for many of the locals. Not only did it have the expected playground, but a community swimming pool and tennis courts as well. The road around the park was half a mile. She would run around it twice and then head for home.

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