Page 672 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Sydney ran her hands through her hair. Her voice was tired, defeated. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Do you think for one minute that Susan wasn’t hurting?”

Sydney’s eyes took on a wounded expression.

“Toward the end, Susan was in a great deal of pain most of the time. I imagine it hurt her to know that she wouldn’t be able to grow old with Avery.” Stella’s voice grew soft when a tear trickled down Sydney’s cheek. “That she wouldn’t live to see you grow up. She always looked for the cotton candy in every sky. It might’ve been hard to find at times, but it was there nevertheless.”

Sydney clenched her fist. Her tears were falling faster now. “I just don’t understand why everything has to be so hard.”

Stella reached for her arm. “I don’t know.” She patted Sydney’s hand. “Honey, I just don’t know. But I do know that the Lord doesn’t expect us to go it alone. He’s always there for us. He’s standing there with His arms wide open, just waiting for us to turn to Him. He can give you peace, even in the midst of your affliction.” Stella’s eyes took on a faraway look. “One of my favorite Bible verses is found in John 14:27. ‘Peace I leave withyou, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.’”

Sydney’s mind was on fire. There were so many emotions churning inside that she didn’t know what to think. She wanted to believe Stella. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay. She wanted to believe … and yet there was the hideous doubt. That black mist of doubt that was so thick and deep she could never see her way through it.

“Honey, the only way you’re going to find any peace is to put closure on this whole thing. I want you to promise me that you’ll go to the cemetery. Maybe then you’ll be able to get on with your life.”

Sydney wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her nose was stuffy and her head felt as heavy as lead. A dull headache was throbbing across the bridge of her nose. “Okay, I promise. I’ll try.”

Sydney pulledout of Stella’s driveway and took a deep breath. Stella was right: it was time for her get on with her life and put the past behind her. She intended to do just that … as soon as she found out what happened to Avery. She glanced up. The sky that was pink and blue just thirty minutes ago was turning a smoldering gray. A storm was moving in. She’d always been amazed at how fast a weather front could move in and out of the plains of Texas, but it rarely happened so quickly here. She rolled down her window, enjoying the energy that was building. She came to the edge of the mountain, just before the road started sloping down, and her eyes rested on a familiar building, The Jam Session. The restaurant was appropriately named because it offered live entertainment every evening. TheJam Session was a gathering place for amateur singers and wannabe entertainers. She remembered the times when she and her parents would drop by to grab a quick sandwich before going to a ballgame. Before she could second-guess herself, she pulled into the crowded parking lot. At the very least, it would provide a diversion from her problems.

Sydney smiled as she listened to the conversation of a middle-aged couple walking in front of her toward the restaurant. “Where did all these dadburn people come from?” the man said. “You can’t never find no parking place here no more.”

The woman looked over at him with a grimace on her face and pointed to a dark spot on the pavement. “That oil spill smells, and the grease they cook with makes me sick. Why can’t we go get something to eat someplace nice for once?”

“Cause I want to see the talents contest, that’s why.”

A talent contest? Sydney couldn’t remember ever going to a talent show at The Jam Session. Should be interesting.

The man holding the microphone looked up when the couple entered with Sydney following close behind. “Come on in,” he yelled. The couple made their way to an empty table at the back of the room, and Sydney moved in the opposite direction to a small table in the corner near the kitchen.

“The fun’s just beginning,” the announcer said. “Our first contestant is a pretty lil’ thang. She’s gonna do a cloggin’ number calledBorn to Boogie.”

The music rolled on, and the energetic brunette clogged while the crowd roared and clapped. Sydney looked around the room. It was just as she remembered it. The crowd was made up of mostly country people from the surrounding area. Or good ol’ salt of the earth folks, as she’d heard Avery say. Many of the older men wore overalls, and she counted at least three silver-haired women in the audience whose hair was swept up in largebuns. Every three days or so, these women would go to the hairdresser to have their hair set. Setwas an appropriate word because once set, like cement, there was no moving it. Nostalgia swept over her, and she couldn’t be sure but thought she experienced a vague sense of familiarity when she looked at the faces. The majority of the younger women still had the eighties hairstyle. The one where the bangs were so tall they could almost stand up and walk by themselves. The men donned faded jeans and cowboy boots. She scanned their faces, wondering if any of them worked at the sawmill.

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Sydney looked up to see a skinny waitress standing beside her, practically yelling over the music.

“Yes, I’ll have a Sprite.”

The announcer was on the stage again, thanking the girl for her performance. “Next, we have Larry Joe. Now y’all give ’im a big round of applause. He ain’t no feriner to these parts. He’s from right here on the mount’n.”

The crowd clapped louder.

“Where’s Judy? She’s a bustin’ a gut to get to sing instead of doing her job,” an angry male voice yelled from the kitchen.

“I said I’m fixin’ to come and help, and I meant it,” the skinny waitress said as she smoothed her apron and took her time sauntering back toward the kitchen.

A smile spread over Sydney’s face. No, things hadn’t changed much.

It was dark when Sydney stepped out of the restaurant. A taste of rain was in the misty air. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended, but it was worth it. She’d actually enjoyed herself. The parking lot had been so packed when she first arrived that she’d been forced to park at the far end. All thoughts of her pleasant evening vanished when she felt the familiar fears return. It was that same feeling of being watched that ripped away herconfidence and stripped her to the core. Why did she always feel that way? Was she losing her mind? The hair on the back of her neck stood and she glanced around the parking lot. All the vehicles were empty except one, a beat up gray Chevy. A man was sitting in the truck. Was that who was watching her?She quickened her pace to get to the jeep. She could still hear the music and the crowd inside as she climbed in. In the safety of her jeep, it was easier to laugh at her paranoia before heading off the mountain. The man in the Chevy was probably waiting for someone inside. The mist turned to rain, and she got caught up in the rhythm of the wipers, listening to them wick away the drops that were spilling on her windshield.

The lights came up behind her so suddenly that they seemed to appear out of thin air. She glanced in her rearview mirror. The lights were getting closer. She pushed the accelerator. A few more miles would put her at the foot of the mountain and closer to town. The lights were directly behind her now, and whoever it was had left them on bright. She willed herself to remain calm and wished that there were two lanes going down the mountain instead of one. Maybe then this bozo could pass her instead of tailgating. She sped up even more, hoping to distance herself. Her stomach dropped. The lights stayed right on her tail.

She looked in her rearview mirror, trying to see what kind of vehicle it was. It was hard to tell for sure but it looked like a pickup truck. She turned her attention to the road ahead. Her jeep lurched, and the pavement slipped out from under her. She was hydroplaning! She fought the urge to slam on her brakes and eased her foot off the accelerator. She fought to keep the wheel straight. Panic ripped through her when the truck jarred her jeep. It had bumped into her! She gripped the steering wheel, her body stiff. Before she could question whether the hit was accidental, it hit her again, this time sending the back of her jeep sliding sideways.

“Get off my bumper!” she yelled, as if the person behind the two menacing headlights could hear her. She forgot about the wet pavement and sped faster and faster down the curvy road, trying to get away from the truck that stuck to her like a magnet.

Lightning flashed overhead, and the steady drizzle turned into sheets of rain that pelted like golf balls. Sydney’s heart beat so fast that she thought it would jump out of her chest. Her temples throbbed in sequence. She thought her back wheels would surely go off the road with every swerve that she made. Then it happened. The vehicle raced around, cutting so close in front of her that she ran off into the shoulder of the road. She could see the tail lights as it sped away into the darkness.

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