“I know. I didn’t say Marshal himself. But how well do you know the guys with him?”
“They’ve been with Marshal since I met him. Except for Graham.” Daisy hated how that sounded. How could she be suspicious of Graham?
“I really don’t believe the guys are involved. Why would that kid be hired to scare us? If Marshal, or anyone with him, was involved the technique would be more realistic. Jace really seems like he was unaware of Violet’s business practices. He’s not defending her since he learned what she’s done.”
Daisy could tell how much suspecting Marshal or Jace hurt Sydney. Was this what Violet wanted? To divide them and watch their progress fall apart from the inside? She organized her thoughts enough to tell Sydney what was going through her head.
“You’re too smart. That’s probably true. She’s planting seeds of distrust. Evil woman.” Sydney slapped her hand on the steering wheel.
“Okay. So we present a united front. We’ll discuss this with our little crew and tell them what we think.” Daisy wondered if the tactic would send Violet off the deep end, but decided she didn’t care.
“Tell them everything except for the money.” Sydney slowed to make the turn into the campground, glancing her way with a nod.
“Right.” Daisy took a deep breath, amazed that just arriving at the campground relaxed her. The stress of her pain and visit to the hospital melted away as Sydney drove the short distance to their cabin.
Coming here had always been this way for her, except for a few times lately. Daisy suspected Sydney had a similar experience because she breathed deeply, a sound of contentment escaping as she relaxed against the seat for a moment before shutting off the ignition.
“Home sweet home.” The words were quiet. “I’d thought whatever I felt protected me here had crossed over, but I don’t believe that now.”
“I would never let that happen unless I had no choice,” Sydney said.
Before she could climb out of the passenger seat, the area around the car filled with their guests. Daisy groaned and forced a smile as she accepted Graham’s hand.
Figuring questions would give the headache root to return, she tried to prepare herself for the destined barrage. Except it didn’t come.
She closed the door and leaned against the car, surveying Graham and Tucker in front of her. Dread settled in her stomach when she realized Graham had a bruise on his cheek and Tucker a swollen lip.
Had they fought? Over her?
They were going to demand she make a decision.
And she still didn’t know which one of them was her true destiny.
CHAPTER 17
Sydney watched as Graham and Tucker circled Daisy like a couple of bruised buzzards. Irritation at their childishness made her hurry to Daisy’s side.
“You two are ridiculous.” She gently took Daisy’s arm, careful of the bruise.
“We want to make sure she’s okay.” Graham stepped forward as Tucker shot him a death glare and matched him step for step.
“She’s fine. You see her standing in front of you, don’t you? She’s tired and has been through a lot. Don’t act like jerks. You might be surprised at the outcome. If I were her, I’d tell you both to fuck off. Really, you jerks? Fighting like a couple of twelve-year-olds?” Sydney shook her head as she guided a dazed Daisy between the two men. Or was that little boys?
“We just want to make sure she’s okay,” Tucker repeated.
Sydney stopped and turned back to face them. “I told you she’s fine. If her headache comes back, she’ll have to spend a few days in the hospital for testing. I’d hate to be responsible for that happening, wouldn’t you?”
She didn’t know if her threat was believable. They were giving her a headache though and she didn’t have to choose between them. Daisy turned on her with wide eyes and she winked, hoping Daisy understood she lied.
Apparently, she did, because she pressed the fingers of her free hand to her temple. Both guys backed away, glaring at each other.
Once inside, Daisy laughed. “I should be mad. I mean, I am mad. How dare they do that when I’m just coming back from being at the hospital? Jerks.”
Daisy didn’t sound as angry as Sydney thought she should. “Assholes.”
“Sweet assholes though. They fought over me.” Daisy sank into a chair with a sigh.
Great. Sydney wanted to scream. Daisy had always had a fairy tale view of life. Most likely, she believed one of the two men would be her knight in shining armor. Sydney’s stomach turned. That kind of thinking really made her want to vomit. She hated the idea of a helpless princess just waiting for her sturdy prince to make life better.
From the time she was a child, she’d wanted to scream at the poor, unprepared heroines from those stories. Tell them to get off their butts and make changes on their own. To stand on their own two feet and not to rely on their fashionable prince to make their lives happy and complete.
So, maybe she was a cynic, but Sydney didn’t think happily ever after came without both sides of the equation doing their best. Sure, there was room for one to take the slack when the other struggled, but the effort should be a joint one, not a dependent one. Weak women drove her crazy.
Daisy wasn’t weak. Not by any means. Was she wrong because she held on to a romantic view of the world?
Maybe Sydney was the one who was wrong. Maybe there was a layer to those fairy tales she’d missed. She’d always wanted to know what happened next. Did the princess ever learn to make her own decisions or did she turn into a shadow, standing behind the prince and losing her identity in the process?
Did the prince think that just because he’d rescued her that he owned the princess? Did the romance lose its luster once life settled into a routine? Did Prince Charming only marry Cinderella because she knew how to run a household?
God. She was a pessimist.
Daisy cleared her throat, her expression confused. “What are you thinking about?”
“Believe me. You don’t want to know.” Sydney smiled, shaking her head at the ridiculous thoughts. No wonder everyone thought she was overly sarcastic. They only thought that because she was.
Of course, she’d never admit that the idea of being rescued by a handsome prince appealed to her on some level. Except she wouldn’t be the helpless flower like those other chicks. She’d be capable, working hard to get out of the situation by herself, and wouldn’t let him help her unless he could admit she was his equal in all areas.
Maybe she was just plain crazy. Maybe she should call the humane society and take all the stray cats off their hands now, instead of waiting to collect them in increments as was her obvious destiny.
“It’s clear out there now.” Daisy stood at the window. “Go get the box.”
Sydney nodded, grateful for something to take her mind off her bizarre thoughts. She opened the trunk and grabbed the nearly empty bag she’d taken with Daisy’s clothes, their jackets, and the box nestled between the garments in an effort to slightly conceal it.
Except maybe they should let anyone watching see that the box would be inside the cabin. She purposefully allowed their jackets to slide off the top and made a big production of putting the box on the hood of the car to retrieve the windbreakers from the ground.
Daisy shook her head from the window and moved to open the door for her. “You’re such an actress.”
Sydney smiled. “Clever, huh?”
She put the box on the chair, waiting until Daisy closed the curtains to open the top. “We need to put the money in something.”
“I have a shoebox,” Daisy offered.
“Too obvious. So is a suitcase or under the mattress.” Sydney looked around the room for something they could use. The problem was that the cash took up over half the box. They’d have to divide it.
“How much will the pool cost?” Daisy fingered one of the stacks of cash.
Sydney named the estimate and watched as she counted out the amount, plus a third more and placed it in an envelope. She wrote ‘pool’ on the front and stuck the package in her briefcase. They did the same with the other projects they needed to fund.
“Gee, I thought taking that out would make a great impact on the pile.” Daisy seemed concerned. “That’s a lot of cash to hide. Should we take it to the bank?”
“I’m not sure. What if Violet has someone there working for her? What if she’s alerted to our good fortune?” Sydney chewed her lip.
“We could use a different bank. In a different town. Your name would have to be the only one on the account though. To keep my mother away from the money. Legally, that money is yours. You have a signed, dated, and notarized letter from Gramps to prove it. I say copy all the documents and put the money in the bank and the proof in a safety deposit box. Just not in this town.” Daisy paced, her eyes going back to the stacks of cash each time she passed.
“Technically, our privacy should be protected in this town, but I’m not taking the chance that The Vileness doesn’t have her ways. Let’s save some out for the renovations on the house. We’ll put the money in the bank after we do some shopping.” Sydney watched Daisy’s eyes light up.
“We’ll need a list.” Daisy grabbed a legal pad from her briefcase.
“What are we going to hide the money in?” Sydney didn’t want to think about shopping until they had the money safely out of view. She scanned the room, stopping on the basket of laundry.
“Tomorrow is laundry day,” she announced, picking up the basket and taking out the top layer of clothes.
Sydney made two trips to the trunk with her two baskets of dirty clothes and glorious cash, hopefully she was as convincing as her act bringing the box inside. By the time she yawned, they’d placed a bunch of old pictures in the box and left it in the chair and she’d put her locked briefcase in her room.
“What if . . .?” Daisy tried to act brave, but Sydney could see her fear.
“No worries. You’re safe. Marshal’s filming tonight and we even have an off duty deputy who volunteered to stand guard. He’ll be here soon. They won’t get close to you.”
“Thank you.” Daisy rubbed her temples.
“Is the headache back?” Sydney searched her pockets for the instructions the doctor gave her.
“No. It’s like an after ache. If that makes sense. It’s a little tenderness where the pain was the most severe.” Daisy stood, her balance fine, and Sydney relaxed a fraction.
“Wake me up if it comes back. We’re not messing around. Don’t feel guilty and decide to ride it out. Got me?” Sydney knew she sounded stern and motherly, but her worry for Daisy did that.
Daisy nodded with a smile. “Yes, Mother.” She blew her a kiss and disappeared into her bedroom.
Sydney sat at the table, scribbling in the margins of the extensive list they’d made. Now that they had the funds, they could do what they’d talked about when they first found out they would inherit the campground. Each of them would have a private suite, with a bathroom, sitting area and kitchenette. That was so they could work without tripping over each other. Two guest bedrooms would round out the second floor and the kitchen and open living area would make up the first floor. Each would have a private balcony on the second floor as well as a grand deck off the first floor, away from the prying eyes of guests.
Sydney wondered if Gramps would approve of the free way they planned to spend his hard-earned money. A twinge of guilt almost made her wake Daisy so they could scale down their big plans. Except, her gut really told her Gramps wanted them to renovate the house. There was plenty of money to run the campground. More than enough, especially after this legal mess was finished and they received the cash that was tied up with the red tape. Sydney sighed, leaned back in her chair and reached for Gramps’ journal.
She read page after page of ghostly encounters and strange happenings. The experiences of guests and Gramps were all different, except for the Native American travelers. It was like some kind of portal was located somewhere on the property.
As she flipped the page, she realized Gramps had thought that, too. He’d even considering finding out how to close it, but changed his mind because he felt that would be messing with destiny. At least that’s what she thought he meant. Why was it that the ghost tales were clear and concise, but all of Gramps’ personal thoughts were in some kind of obscure language? Sydney could think of several different meanings for each private entry and didn’t know what to believe.
A chill touched her ankle. She looked down, seeing nothing. She shifted her legs. The cold followed, moving up one leg and then back down.
Sydney closed her eyes, too tired for spiritual interaction tonight. When she opened them again, she almost fell off the chair. Why she didn’t know. She’d seen some pretty freaky things lately. Why would a ghost cat startle her?
Maybe it was the earlier thoughts about becoming a cat lady. Maybe that was truly her destiny.
Figured.
She went to bed. Disgusted with herself and the world.
When Sydney woke, the smell of coffee reminded her of today’s plans and she rushed to get ready. Getting that money safely tucked away was priority one. Daisy sat at the table and drummed her fingers.
“What is it? What happened? Is your head okay?”
“I’m fine. My head is fine. Where did that damned cat come from?” Daisy pointed to last night’s visitor perched on the windowsill.
The cat cleaned itself as if it could actually be dirty.
“He’s mine. I’ve decided to become a cat lady.” Sydney moved to the dead animal, expecting her hand to go right through. Instead, she met with soft fur.
Confused, she picked the cat up, surprised to feel the purr the animal produced. The orange tiger cat nuzzled her hand.
“Umm, he showed up last night, but as a ghost.” Maybe she should have left that part out.
“Seriously?” Daisy didn’t seem convinced.
“I swear. Of course, I couldn’t tell what color he was. He about froze my leg off with his rubbing.” Sydney shook her head. The cat on her lap was very real and very warm.
“Is that even possible?” Daisy reached over to stroke the cat’s head.
“Beats me.” Sydney figured it all had something to do with her negative, cynical view on happily ever after and fairy tales.
This was a warning, like Scrooge’s three ghosts.
“Are we keeping him?” Daisy scratched the cat’s ears.
“I don’t know if he’s ours to keep, but we should let him hang out if that’s what he wants.” The cat seemed to nod in agreement and Sydney wondered what the next ghost to show her how terribly she handled her life would be like.
“He’ll need a name.” Daisy patted her lap and the cat complied, settling in and purring.
“And then what? We’ll get all attached to him and he’ll decide to leave. We don’t need that kind of pain. If we don’t name him, we won’t get too used to him.” Sydney caught the glare the cat shot her and wondered what she’d said that was so offensive.
“When are you going to learn that life isn’t about protecting yourself from pain? It’s about going with the flow and living each moment to the fullest. What happens next isn’t important. You aren’t doing yourself any favors by hiding from life.” The cat moved and nuzzled Daisy’s cheek as if telling her she was right.
Sydney sighed. “Thomas.”
The cat looked bored.
“Fred.”
It opened one eye.
“Prince.”
That got them a satisfied sounding meow.
Figured. Maybe Sydney should drop this money of
f and then check herself into some kind of treatment center. She certainly felt like she was cracking up.
Daisy placed Prince on the chair by the window and patted his head. “We’ll be back, okay? We’ll bring kitty food.”
“He’s a ghost.”
“Is not. He’s real and needs to eat.” Daisy glared at her.
“The contractor’s here. Let’s go.”
Daisy waved at the cat, and Sydney thought she might be sick.
As they left the circle of cabins, Daisy stopped in front of the only other cabin they might be able to rent when they opened. The windows were clean and the weeds trimmed.
“Graham took it over. He cleaned for an entire day according to Marshal. Said he was sick of the noise and constant activity in the cabin with the rest of the guys.” Sydney watched Daisy’s reaction.
“Oh. Graham cleaned? I didn’t think he knew how.” Daisy shook her head.
“He did a good job. I don’t think he’s as prissy as you believe. Of course, he’s the only guy here who looks perfect no matter what he’s been doing.”
“I was thinking he pretty much fits the ‘metrosexual’ description. Don’t you think? So not my type.” Daisy turned her head so Sydney couldn’t see her face.
Sydney wasn’t sure if she’d done that on purpose. “I think that when the love bug bites, types and what you thought you wanted doesn’t matter anymore.” Ha. Had she really said that?
Daisy only grunted.
The contractor turned out to be a big, muscled man with long hair tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck. Tattoos lined both arms and a braided goatee completed the picture. Sydney was a little skeptical, but Daisy warmed right up to him.
After listening to him talk about his twin sons and beautiful wife, Sydney couldn’t shake the guilt. Had she really been so shallow that she’d judged the man on his appearance?
Allowing Daisy to show the contractor through the house and explain their plans was fine with her. Sydney didn’t know if she wanted to cry or throw up. She waited in the living area, lost in her self-pity when they finally came back from the tour.
Prelude of Lies Page 19