Page 628 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Sydney lowered her head and massaged her pounding temples. An image of the boy eating the hotdog flashed in her mind.

Kendall stood and came across the room and knelt beside her chair. He reached for her hand and looked right in her eyes. “I never meant to upset you.”

A weak laugh escaped her throat. “Well, it wasn’t like you intended for me to go. I kind of forced you into it.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. His hand cupped the curve of her cheek and lingered there for a moment. She smiled. It had the magical effect of smoothing Kendall’s features, melting the tension from his face.

“Just promise me that you’ll never take me to that place again.” She shuddered. “I’ve seen enough blood and guts to last a lifetime.”

His hand left her face and went over his heart. “I promise.” He smiled that slow smile that sent a spark of warmth over her. She thought—hoped that he would kiss her, but instead, he stood and rubbed his hands together. “All this talk about blood and guts is making me hungry. What do you say we go get a burger?”

She laughed. “Oh Kendall, you’re a monster.”

17

“ … A POOR MAN IS BETTER THAN A LIAR.” —PROVERBS 19:22

“Hey Syd, aren’t you going home tonight?” Sean stood in her office doorway. He looked as fresh as he did when Sydney saw him that morning. “Now that the OSHA inspection’s done, I figured that you could rest easy for a while.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Congratulations on passing.”

Her eyes met his. “Did you ever have any doubt?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Do I have to answer that?”

She shook her head. She’d had her doubts as well. All in all, the follow-up inspection had been anticlimactic. A frail man with hair black as shoe polish and suspicious eyes showed up and made notes of all the improvements. He passed them off and then let her know in no uncertain terms that he would be back periodically to check on the situation.

“Can I walk you out?” Sean asked.

“No thanks, I still have a few things to finish up.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Sydney was thankful that she could finally be alone to complete her mission. She had to find Cecil Prichard and talk tohim. Even though the log accident occurred several years ago, it was doubtful that someone would forget an incident so serious.

It was time to go to plan “B.” There had to be an employment file on Cecil Prichard, and this time she wasn’t about to ask Barb for it. Sydney’s palms grew sweaty. She stepped out of her office and tried to appear casual while checking to make sure everyone had left. When she’d finished her search, she headed for Barb’s desk. It was common knowledge that Barb kept the basement key in her top right-hand drawer. She prayed that Barb’s desk would be unlocked. It was. She clutched the key and made her way to the basement. She closed the door behind her and flipped on the light. The musty smell was suffocating. The place felt like a tomb. She pushed the thought away and willed herself to stay calm. Don’t panic, she repeated over and over. Even though she tried to tread lightly, every step on the wooden stairs sounded like a jackhammer in her ears. It took her a minute to locate the filing cabinets. A dull light bulb, hanging by a cord, made her wish she’d brought a flashlight. She searched through the first two cabinets and came up empty-handed. On the third she saw the label marked “terminations.” Surely Cecil Prichard hadn’t been fired. She frowned. Avery described Cecil as conscientious. He’d been a devoted employee for many years. She shrugged. It was worth a look. She scanned down to the fourth drawer where the “P’s” began. She pulled out the drawer and thumbed through the folders: Parker, Parkings, Perkins, and Persell. Then she saw it—a folder labeled Prichard. She reached for the file, intending to study it. First things first,she told herself, scribbling the address on her note pad. She was just about to search the files for Lewis when she heard the voice.

“Hey, is somebody down here?”

Sydney jumped and stuffed the folder back into the drawer and shut it.

“I said, is anyone there?”

It was Sean. He pounded down the stairs, and she was sure he would hear her heart running at full speed. She crouched in the corner beside a filing cabinet and tried not to make a sound. The footsteps were getting closer. Would he hear her breathing? Would he smell her perfume?

His cell phone rang. “Now?” He sighed. “Yeah, I’m on my way.” He ran back up the steps and flipped off the light.

She waited a good five minutes after he left before she dared to move. It was pitch black, and she had to feel her way to the stairs. What would happen if Sean were waiting on the other side of the door? She opened it a fraction at first before getting the nerve to open it all the way and step through. She braced herself for the worst, but nothing happened. The office was empty. She was shaking all over like the mouse that managed to slip unnoticed under the sleeping cat’s paw. She replaced Barb’s keys, then darted out the door without looking back. She clenched her fist. She’d done it! She’d gotten the address!

If she’d stayed a few more minutes, she would have seen Sean step out of the office and lock the door behind him.

Sydney decidedto go straight to Cecil Prichard’s house. She stopped at a convenience store and asked for directions, and then headed down one of the many country roads that tangled like spaghetti noodles over the area. It wasn’t until the sun started setting behind the clouds that she second-guessed her decision to drive out to a place she’d never been this late in the afternoon. She glanced at her directions and then at the gravel road. This was it.

Tall trees and thick hedges hovered over the narrow road, creating a gloomy tunnel. She had the eerie impression thatshe’d left the modern world. She reached over to make sure her doors were locked. The road seemed never ending. The farther she went, the more frantic the warning voice in her head grew. Just when she was about to turn around, she saw a small structure in the clearing up ahead. It looked like an abandoned one-room cabin, completely barren of paint. A couple of dead ferns in black pots hung from rusty clothes hangers that were bent around the beams of the porch. A rotten table with a broken leg leaned against one side of the house. At the far edge of the yard, Sydney could see the remains of an old wringer-type washing machine turned on its side in the tall grass. A few feet from the washer there was an old wrecked car filled with garbage.

She cracked her window.

“What do you want?”

The man’s deep voice seemed to materialize out of thin air, causing Sydney’s heart to jump in her throat. She looked toward the house for a face. Before she could answer, a pack of yelping dogs ran from behind the house. Thank goodness she was still safely locked in her jeep.

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