“How did you picture her?” Good, he straightened and turned toward her.
“I don’t know. Stern, bitchy, and ugly. One of those tight-bunned, gray-flannel-suit wearing matronly types. And fat, too.” He grinned and bent to wind the cord around the base of the tree so no one accidentally unplugged the setup.
She grimaced. “That’s quite a bad image. I guess I only told you the frustrating stuff. She’s definitely not any of those things.”
“Definitely not. No matter what she says to you, she has an open mind and she’s interested in what we’re doing.”
“Maybe her opinions changed after her experience in the cabin? She’s fair. Her personal beliefs don’t affect how she treats people.”
“Are you saying she’s only being nice?”
“Maybe. I don’t think so. She is nice. Except where Graham is concerned. Why didn’t you tell me you two are in cahoots?” She should kick him for lying.
Marshal shrugged. “He wanted to see what happened and since it kind of helped with the investigation I let him.”
“Why?”
“He’s my brother. Well, half-brother. We grew up together. Until his mom left my dad when I was sixteen. I hadn’t seen him for a long time. We kept in touch, but not often, you know? He’s a good guy. Kind of prissy, always was.”
“Prissy is Sydney’s type.” Oops. She shouldn’t have said that. Marshal seemed a little shocked and disappointed. “She hates him, though.”
Marshal didn’t say anything. When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut? She’d probably just blown Sydney’s chances with Marshal.
“Lights out in ten.” Dave breezed by, taking his job seriously as usual.
“We’re ready.” Marshal stepped around her.
Somehow, she managed to be paired with Graham for the first shift. They were only supposed to keep an eye on the computer monitors set up in the empty cabin and take care of troubleshooting. In two hours, they’d switch jobs with another team and head out with one of the other crew members and see what they could record.
This part was boring, watching the others record their impressions and experiences. At least their conversation wasn’t being recorded like everyone else’s. She’d made sure she told Sydney that before her shift started with Marshal.
Graham filed his fingernails in an irritating pattern. She’d love to see him with two-day growth on his face and zero hair gel. A pair of jeans and no shirt. She wondered if he worked out or if that fantasy would disappoint in real life.
She liked him and she didn’t. He was cute, too fancy, and hard to read. Daisy didn’t think she was seeing the real him.
“So. Is your sister still pissed at me?”
Her fantasy deflated. She tried not to be disappointed and remembered Graham was more Sydney’s type.
“Definitely. She doesn’t appreciate the deceit. She’s pissed at Marshal, too, if that makes you feel any better.”
“I think she’s madder at me. She hates me.” Was he pouting?
“You’re probably right. She does hate you.” She watched the monitors, hoping something interesting would happen soon.
Graham seemed to want to say something, but when the silence stretched, she figured he either chickened out or decided he was talking to the wrong sister. Daisy didn’t know why that hurt. It wasn’t like she was interested in Graham except to think about what he’d look like dirty and naked.
Ten minutes later, Daisy wished she’d been able to sleep when she tried to nap earlier. Concentrating on the equipment was putting her into zombie mode.
“Hey.” One of the radios crackled to life. “What is that?”
Daisy leaned forward, watching the video of what Sydney said was fog. Figures swirled on the surface of the water.
“Can you hear that?” Marshal whispered.
The faint sounds of music drifted through the speaker.
“Something’s going on at the pond.” Graham leaned forward and she almost drowned in the masculine smell of his aftershave.
“Are they really dancing?” Sydney’s whisper.
Daisy watched the wispy outlines on the screen, convinced they were dancing. But, then, maybe not. “They’re not dancing. They’re ice skating. See?” She pointed as one of the smaller shapes fell, sliding on imaginary ice.
“What’s with the music then?” Graham’s concentration stayed on the screen. “They’re in tune with it.”
Daisy didn’t answer. If he stayed in his position nearly over top her much longer she was going to lick his neck. He didn’t smell like a priss, he smelled like a man. And, God help her, she liked it.
Sydney watched from the edge of the pond, trying to stay out of the way. The vision in front of her was incredible. The water at the edge of the pond, not two feet from her, appeared frozen solid, but she wasn’t cold. The misty figures swirled and skated. They had no distinguishable features she could see, but their disembodied laughter echoed through the odd silence surrounding them.
She glanced over at Marshal, his excitement visible, and suppressed the urge to smile along with him. Her attraction had to be kept to herself. It was bad enough Daisy knew she thought Marshal was drool-worthy. The last thing she needed was for him to figure out he made her knees weak.
Sydney had thought long and hard about what she wanted to do when she was supposed to be resting up for tonight. As much as she’d love to break free and do something outrageous, she wouldn’t. She’d done that once and the result had been disaster. It didn’t matter that she’d only been sixteen and delusional about love and relationships. She hadn’t been thinking short-term when she agreed to park with Duff. She hadn’t been thinking, period. When Duff said he loved her and wanted to marry her, she’d willingly opened her legs, dreaming about the future through his awkward lovemaking.
Hell, what had she known?
Maybe the pregnancy scare and the terrible rumors Duff had tried to spread about her were responsible for her attitudes about sex with no consequences. When she’d told Duff her suspicions, he denied they’d been together. Then, he told the rest of the football team he’d tried because she’d come on so strong, but that she’d ended up being too afraid. The team had made a bet on who could get her to follow through.
Lucky for her, Daisy had overheard some of the conversation and Sydney had turned down every one of them when they’d asked her out. And every other guy, too. She couldn’t take the chance they knew the things Duff said about her.
She hadn’t had sex again until her sophomore year of college. He was gentle and thorough and she’d come away with a new appreciation for lovemaking even though the relationship had only lasted two months more, until he changed majors and transferred to a bigger school. Sydney hadn’t been as heartbroken as she should have been. Maybe that was because he’d changed her life a little and the change was good.
Her attention snapped back to the present, she blinked when she realized the winter time illusion had faded. Marshal came toward her, his expression a mixture of joy and seduction. She didn’t think her impression, at least of the seduction part, was on, but it didn’t matter.
“That was incredible.”
She waited. Would he take the scene at face value or try to find an explanation? “What now?”
“We study the footage. See if there’s evidence of this being manufactured and go from there.” He touched her arm and pointed to the bathhouse.
Sydney nodded, suppressing a groan at the bathhouse stake out. She hated that building and as soon as they had the money, planned to have it razed and a better facility built. Maybe her hatred stemmed from the way she and Daisy were punished when they misbehaved. Any time they stepped out of line, Gramps made them clean this bathroom three times a day for a week. She’d probably cleaned this bathroom for a total of two years. If n
ot more. Daisy had way more time in.
Before she had a chance to voice her opinions on sitting in the dank stalls and waiting for spirits, her cell phone vibrated with a voicemail. She knew the message wouldn’t be one she wanted to hear. Still, she pressed in the code for the mailbox and moved away from the recording equipment surrounding her on all sides.
“Listen, I don’t know what you two are up to, but we have to talk. Grandmother is losing a lot of money waiting for you to find your sense of honor. You made a deal with her. You won’t get a higher price, if that’s what you think. Your grandfather would be so disappointed in you.”
Tears filled her eyes as she saved the message and turned off the phone. Would Gramps be disappointed in them? Damn Jace. How dare he? What did he know of Gramps and his wishes?
Marshal didn’t ask. So much for what she thought was the beginning of a friendship. She tried not to let his disinterest bother her. He was working and probably felt uncomfortable.
The rest of the night passed in complete boredom. By three, Sydney yawned so frequently, Marshal sent her to bed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a flirty comment. She crawled under the covers wanting to smack him and every guy in the campground all because of Jace.
The night noises interspersed with an occasional loud burst of laughter. Despite her irritation and the weird laughter she’d heard again on her way back to the cabin, Sydney felt safe. Marshal’s crew was in rare form, probably due to the things she knew they did capture.
Marshal planned to leave the equipment up overnight and assigned Dave first watch. Sydney had a feeling it was more of a safety measure than hope of catching any other activity. She turned with a sigh and allowed her mind to wander to places it probably shouldn’t. What would it hurt to dream about a night with Marshal? It was better than thinking about Jace’s message.
Daisy wished she could hate Graham. They’d spent the past two hours paired with Eric and Ron, who basically ignored them and seemed to be more into each other than their jobs. She wondered if Marshal knew, not that he would care about how much they liked each other, but he’d flip to find out they weren’t doing necessary tasks to maintain the company’s credibility.
Graham had whispered a commentary on what the men were saying to each other, adding a perverted twist and making it hard for her to not laugh. That was bad enough, but when he touched her back and squeezed to get her attention, she had to hide her reaction or embarrass herself.
Damn. She didn’t want to be attracted to him and she didn’t want to follow her advice to Sydney. Sure, she’d had a couple of one-night stands, but it had been years. She preferred some commitment, the emotion attached to the sex. Maybe she was only hot and bothered because it had been so long. Maybe she should screw Graham’s brains out to teach him a lesson.
Graham leaned against the tree watching Eric and Ron. He caught her assessment and sent her a knowing grin. Damn. Could he read her mind? She hoped not. Otherwise, she was in big trouble.
Sydney’s light was out by the time Daisy arrived at their cabin. Daisy peeked in on her to make sure she indeed slept. Truthfully, she wanted to make sure she wasn’t holed up somewhere with Marshal having the time of her life.
Images of Graham, alternating with Tucker, filthy and bare-chested haunted her attempts to sleep. She rolled over and reached under the mattress, grabbing the battered journal her adoptive parents gave her when she turned eighteen. Her birth mother’s flowing script was neat and funky, the i’s dotted with smiley faces or stars.
None of what her mother wrote before she found out she was pregnant made sense to Daisy. She figured the entries were about the band the woman chose, since most of it was a city name, followed by a brief recap of the evening. Her birth mother had definitely been a groupie for some band no one had ever still ever heard of.
The part of the journal around the time of Nadine’s pregnancy never mentioned who Daisy’s father might be. Only that “he” would be so pleased. Obviously, he wasn’t or Daisy would know him. She didn’t know what bothered her more—the fact that her mother had been so happy at first and then dumped her, or that her father had not cared that he’d created a child.
She felt like a garbage baby.
Her parents—the ones who loved, accepted, and raised her—should be enough, right? They’d chosen to keep her when they could have easily turned her over to social services. Maybe they’d kept her out of a sense of family duty, but Daisy didn’t think so.
Shortly after the adoption papers were final, she’d had trouble sleeping and had gone downstairs for a drink and a hug only to hear her parents discussing how irresponsible her birth mother was. She’d heard her mom say that no matter what she wouldn’t give Daisy up, that she couldn’t love Daisy more if she’d been her own blood and how she hated her sister for what she’d done.
The words made Daisy happy, and sadder than she’d ever been. She didn’t remember her birth mother and Daisy couldn’t help but wonder how awful of a child she was for her mother to pawn her off. There had to be a reason. Moms didn’t forget to come back for their babies.
Maybe someday she’d get the chance to ask. Logically, she knew sometimes there were no answers and that she’d done nothing wrong. The fault had been with the woman who gave birth to her. But the little girl in her would always wonder.
Daisy didn’t seem to be good enough for anyone. Sure, her parents loved, supported, and were proud of her but she figured they pretty much had to be. Daisy had never been as good as Sydney at anything—school, sports, or friends.
Sure, she made a great career for herself and she’d continue even if she never left Brookside. She held on to that happy thought, shoving the sadness away. Maybe she’d even open a photography studio at the campground. The possibilities excited her, and she fell asleep rolling ideas around.
CHAPTER 5
Daisy woke to something poking her. She opened one eye to find Sydney sitting on the edge of the bed, her finger ready to jab her again.
“Wake up.”
“No.”
“Come on. I have something to tell you. I brought you coffee.” Sydney pointed to the steaming cup on the bedside table with a smile.
“What is so damned important that you have to wake me at the ass-crack of dawn? I’ve only been in bed two hours.” Two stupid, restless hours.
“For one, Tucker is here and I have gossip for you. Two, we have to meet with the lawyer in an hour, remember? The weekly checks that Vile Violet is making us do?”
“Damn. That’s right. What the hell is wrong with that woman? Why do we have to pass her inspections?” she asked with a growl, grabbing the Styrofoam cup. “I feel like a prisoner.”
“You and me both. We’re doing great here, so no worries. Are you ready to hear what I found out?” Sydney poked her again, erasing her irritation. Daisy sighed. How could she be mad when Sydney was in such a good mood?
“Cut it out. God, you’re totally obnoxious this morning. Maybe you should go fuck Marshal so you can work off some of this insane energy and calm the hell down.” She sat her cup down and moved over so Sydney had more room. “Okay. Let’s hear this gossip.”
Sydney hadn’t turned red at her crude comment. Why? “Tucker is not married, nor is he a father. He’s not seeing anyone. At all.” Sydney stopped, her happy expression fleeting after seeing Daisy’s face.
“Oh. So he’s single. I guess that’s good for him.” Why hadn’t he called her when he found out there was no baby? She stood, trying to forget she wasn’t good enough for him.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think about the fact that it’s been months and he didn’t call you. I’m so stupid.” Sydney grabbed her hand.
“It’s not your fault. He’s the asshole. Fine. You know what? I don’t care. He obviously didn’t feel for me what I felt for him so screw him.” Daisy did
n’t know what to do. Her heart was breaking all over again.
“Screw him. Screw them all. Why are there so many men around here anyway?” Sydney had always been quick to take her side, as she’d been for her. That was one thing Daisy adored about her sister.
“I don’t know but they can all go to hell.” Daisy crossed her arms.
“Here’s what we’ll do. After this lawyer meeting, let’s go into town. We’ll get some wine and come back here and drink ourselves smart.” Sydney smiled.
“A perfect idea. Let’s get this lawyer meeting over with.” Thank God for sisters.
“I was kidding, but you know what, that’s a great idea.” Sydney jumped up.
An hour later, their evil grandmother’s somber attorney followed their lawyer through the rusty front gate. She and Sydney had known their lawyer, Albert Love, since they were babies. He’d been a constant visitor at Brookside and they’d grown up with his grandchildren. Al, or Uncle Al, kissed them both on the cheek after the bear hugs, much to the other lawyer’s irritation.
“Are these your clients or your girlfriends?” As soon as the question sliced through the air and hit its intended mark, Uncle Al turned quickly, catching the man off guard by shaking a finger in his face.
“Listen, these girls are like my own granddaughters. Shut your mouth and mind your own business. My relationship with them has nothing to do with what we’re doing here.” He turned back to them with a smile. “Now. Let’s see what you’ve done.”
They toured the campsites, now clear of all poison ivy. At Violet’s attorney’s gasp of surprise, Daisy could have hugged Tucker, even though she wanted to smack him silly. The pond had been dredged and the swampy end planted, along with the beginnings of a fence. Tucker’s crew dumped stones for the walkway as the tour group arrived.
“This is great.” Uncle Al pointed toward the previously overgrown seating area near the pond. “I can’t believe you got that poison down. What a difference a week made. What else have you managed?”
Prelude of Lies Page 5