by Dawn Brown
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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Living Lies
Copyright © 2008 by Dawn Brown
ISBN: 1-60504-047-9
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2008
www.samhainpublishing.com
Living Lies
Dawn Brown
Dedication
For Nana. Thank you for your faith.
Prologue
“Hareton sits on the edge of the Snow Belt, that’s why the snow is so much heavier out this way.”
Sandra rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She couldn’t care less about the weather patterns of some middle-of-nowhere town. Her husband, Brian, was much too busy fiddling with the radio to notice.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to the front window. Not that there was much to see. Outside, small flakes of snow danced in the narrow beams of the SUV’s headlights. Occasionally, the yellow light of a house broke through the inky blackness and veil of falling snow. A welcome relief from the monotony.
A tall snowbank to her right suddenly loomed closer as the front of the SUV swerved dangerously toward the edge of the highway.
“Brian, the road!”
He jerked his head up and straightened the wheel.
“Can you please stop playing with the radio and drive?” she snapped.
“Sorry. I was trying to find the game. What’s with you? You’ve been miserable all night.”
“There’s nothing with me. I just have no desire to find myself flattened against a snowbank so you can get a hockey score.”
“Fine. But your attitude started long before now.”
He may have had a point. She’d been on edge since they turned onto this highway. It was probably just a combination of the weather and having gone nearly a half-hour without seeing another car. The isolation made her tense.
“What were Rhonda and Jimmy thinking when they moved out here?”
Brian grinned. “Low mortgage payments.”
“I guess. It just seems so far from civilization.”
“We’re forty-five minutes from home.”
“I know.” She sighed. “This weather is making me twitchy. I wish we had just stayed home.”
“If you don’t want to go to their housewarming, then why are we?”
“Because Jimmy and Rhonda are our friends, and it’s their first house. They want to show it off.”
“They’re your friends.”
“They’re your friends too…” Her words trailed off as she spotted a small, lone figure trudging through the snow along the side of the road.
“Who would be out here in weather like this?” Brian asked.
As they drew closer, Sandra saw it was a girl. Wisps of blonde hair whipped out from under her hood.
“Stop the car,” she said.
“Are you nuts? She could be anyone.”
“There’s no one else out here. If we don’t pick her up, who will? Besides, she’s small. I think between the two of us we could take her if she turns out to be a psycho.”
“Famous last words,” Brian muttered, but he slowed the car and pulled over anyway.
From the side mirror, Sandra watched the girl trot up to the SUV. She slowed as she grew closer and hesitated before opening the back door. When she finally did, the overhead light illuminated the interior. The girl peered into the dim car and eyed Sandra and Brian suspiciously, but she stepped forward, her shoulders sagging a little when her gaze fell on the empty baby seat.
“Thank you for stopping,” the girl said, climbing in. “Are you going to Hareton?”
“Yeah.” Brian pulled back onto the road. “Can we drop you somewhere?”
“Just a ride to town would be great. I’m Michelle, by the way.” She looked young, eighteen maybe nineteen.
“I’m Sandra. This is my husband, Brian.”
She turned to face the backseat. Michelle was pretty, the cheerleader type. Long, blonde hair fell in soft waves from under her hood. Her face was small with a pert nose, flawless skin and a smile toothpaste ads would pay a fortune for. But something about her eyes, dark and empty like bottomless wells, bothered Sandra.
“It’s an awful night to be out walking,” Sandra said. “You must be freezing.”
“I am.”
“Did you break down?” Brian asked. “I didn’t see any cars farther back.”
“No, I didn’t.” A rueful smile touched Michelle’s lips. “I had a fight with my boyfriend.”
“And he just left you out here?” Sandra asked, appalled.
“It’s not that bad. Someone always stops.”
What an odd thing to say. Sandra turned back around in her seat.
They continued the rest of the way in silence. As they neared Hareton, the lights from the town reflected pink off the falling snow, shimmering like a halo in the night sky.
“This isn’t right.” Michelle’s voice broke the quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Sandra turned to look at the girl. What she saw stopped her heart and turned her bowels to water.
Wide, sunken eyes stared out from Michelle’s gaunt face, her skin so pale it appeared almost blue. The heavy winter coat, faded and tattered, hung off her bony frame.
Michelle’s hand reached out, trembling as if lifting it took great strength. She wrapped her skeletal fingers around Sandra’s wrist like an icy vise, sending waves of frigid chills coursing through her body.
Michelle pulled herself forward. Closer. Until her face was mere inches from Sandra’s.
“He used to send me flowers,” she whispered, cold against Sandra’s ear. Michelle’s breath smelled of rot and made Sandra’s stomach roll. Fear, like nothing she had experienced before, held her in place until, at last, Michelle released her. Sandra turned away, sinking back into her seat.
With her heart thundering against her chest, her breath came in quick shallow gasps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Brian frown before glancing up at the rearview mirror.
“Where did you want us to let you off? What in the hell?”
Sandra was afraid to look. Afraid that whatever Brian saw was worse then Michelle’s cold hand or rotten breath.
“She’s gone.”
“What?” Sandra turned sharply. The back seat was empty.
“She’s gone,” Brian said again. “She just disappeared.”
Chapter One
Haley leaned against the doorframe and looked down at the small, withered husk of a woman passed out on the floor.
“Good morning, Mom,” she murmured, but her mother remained sprawled across the pale rose carpet. The frayed edge of her nightgown bunched high on her thighs, exposing dark varicose veins spidering down skinny, white legs.
As Haley stepped into the room, her heart rate accelerated and a shiver slid down her spine. She hated this room—Michelle’s room—though she hadn’t thought of it that way in a long time. For more than a decade it had simply been The Shrine. A pretty pink bedroom kept as perfect as a museum exhibit, all in
memory of a sister who was gone and never coming back.
She knelt, hooked her hands under her mother’s arms, and half dragged her down the hall. The putrid stink of alcohol oozed from her skin. Haley swallowed hard to keep from gagging. God, she hated that smell.
With her hip, she nudged her mother’s bedroom door open and rolled her onto the bed. Haley stood there for a moment, her throat tight and her chest sore, while pity battled revulsion. Who was this creature, with sallow skin and hollowed eyes? Surely she couldn’t be the same woman who had raised her for her first fifteen years. Her mother had been warm, quick to laugh and full of life. Unlike the creature wheezing before her, this doppelganger who had assumed her mother’s life the day Michelle disappeared twelve years ago.
Haley left the room, wiping at the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She showered and dressed, dry swallowing two Tylenols in an effort to combat the steady throb behind her eyes and the ache in her shoulders, the results of yet another sleepless night.
In the kitchen, she took the coffee from the pantry and started her morning ritual. As she filled the pot with water, she spotted a note in her brother’s handwriting propped against the wall behind the faucet.
Coward. She set the coffeepot down and lifted the torn scrap of paper.
Haley
Had a breakfast meeting this morning and didn’t want
to wake you. Finally spoke to Paige, she’ll be here
later today. I’ll see you tonight.
Garret
Anger surged within her as she crumpled the paper into a tight ball, tossing it into the garbage. What her brother wouldn’t do to avoid both her and their mother.
And now Paige was coming, as if things weren’t bad enough.
According to the clock on the wall, she still had a little over an hour before she needed to open the store. And spending that time in the silent kitchen, with only her dark thoughts for company held all the appeal of a sharp stick in the eye.
The walls felt like they were closing in on her and the air too hot to breathe. She flicked off the coffee machine and snatched up her coat. She had to get out of there.
Outside, the cold air stung her cheeks and made her eyes water, a relief from the overwhelming stuffiness inside. Deep blues and purples streaked the eastern sky, barely lighter than the star-dotted black in the west. She jammed her bare hands into her coat pockets and started down the sidewalk, bending her head against the icy wind.
As she walked, the pounding in her skull eased some. Whether from the Tylenol or simply being away from her mother’s house she couldn’t say for certain.
She turned onto Main Street and wondered absently why every small town in North America had a Main Street. Plastic garland, twinkle lights, tinsel and wreaths decorated the storefronts. The kind of tackiness only Christmas could inspire. Even the lampposts were adorned with green and red lights in the shape of candles.
Most of the store windows were dark, except for the Java Joint. Warm light spilled from the small coffee shop’s window onto the pavement outside. With time to kill before she opened Hareton Furniture Restoration, Haley decided to stop. Maybe flip through the newspaper and get lost in the functioning world for a while.
A chime overhead announced her arrival as she pushed the door open. The warm air smelled of rich coffee and freshly baked goods. Chairs at the small, wrought iron tables stood empty, and the only other customer sat hunched over his newspaper at the counter that ran the length of the front window. He glanced up at the sound of the bell, then turned back to his paper.
Karen Murphy, the shop’s owner, stood behind a counter at the rear of the store, placing cookies neatly on a platter. She smiled as Haley approached. “Coffee?”
Haley nodded, shrugging out of her coat before sliding onto a stool.
“I wondered if you would stay home today.” Karen set an oversized cup down before her.
“Why?” Haley asked.
“I heard they identified the body. That it was Michelle.”
God, word traveled fast in this town. “We only found out Friday. How did you hear already?”
“There was an article in the paper.” Karen pointed to the folded newspaper at the end of the counter. Haley reached for it and spread the out pages.
The words “Body Found” screamed in one-inch bold letters, then in slightly smaller print, “Remains identified as local girl missing twelve years”. Haley pushed the paper away.
“I shouldn’t be surprised. This is probably the most exciting story the Gazette’s published since Michelle went missing.” She added three heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her coffee before taking a sip.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Haley waved her hand as if swatting away a fly, ignoring the ache in her throat. “I’ve believed for a long time Michelle was dead. When they found the skeleton I knew it would be her.”
Karen put her hands on her bony hips. “Liar. Who do I look like? That idiot brother of yours? I’ve known you far too long for you to sit there and tell me that you’re fine and dandy.”
“I didn’t say I was dandy.” Karen was a good friend, but sometimes all her touchy feely let’s-talk-about-our-emotions crap got on Haley’s nerves. Still, she knew from experience, if she wanted to drink her coffee in peace, she would have to throw her something. “I admit, going from twelve years with Michelle just being gone to having her body found and identified inside of three weeks has been hard.”
“And it has to be kind of freaky that she was buried in your grandmother’s basement.”
“It was.” And terrifying and horrifying.
“That’s so weird. Your family kept the house all that time after your grandmother died, and then, almost the minute it sold, Michelle is found.”
“Yeah. Strange.” Haley took another drink from her cup and wished Karen would shut up. She hated thinking of the years spent waiting and wondering, when all along Michelle had been buried under the dirt floor practically beneath their feet. Stop being morbid, she told herself, trying to push the image from her mind.
“How’s your mom?”
“The usual.” No need to bore Karen with tales of her mother’s drunken tirades or sobbing fits.
“Has Garret been any help?”
“He’s dealing with the police and that kind of thing, but other than that, he’s avoiding me. He did leave me a note this morning.”
“A note?” Karen’s eyebrows, nearly as blonde as her straight, cropped hair, drew together in a frown.
“Yeah, nice, huh? I wonder how early he had to sneak in to do that.”
Karen chuckled. “What did it say?”
“Just that he finally spoke to Paige, and she’ll be gracing us with her illustrious presence sometime today.”
“Have you spoken to your sister at all since—”
“No,” Haley interrupted. “Not in four years. Anyway, I feel like I’ve been eating and breathing all of this forever. Let’s talk about something else. Anything that’s unrelated to Michelle or my lunatic family.”
“Change of subject coming up.” Karen lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Check out tall, dark and brooding over there.”
Haley turned toward the man at the counter. His back was to her, but his face reflected on the glass, translucent against the brightening background like the image of a ghost. His head bent, he stared at the newspaper in front of him, and Haley couldn’t get a good look at his features. Still, there was something familiar about him.
“I’ve seen him before,” Haley whispered, turning back to Karen.
“Me too, but I’m damned if I can remember where.”
He stood suddenly, his chair scraping the tile floor, and left the shop without a backward glance.
Karen’s cheeks turned pink and a giggle escaped her lips. “Oops. Do you think he heard us?”
Haley shrugged and drank her coffee.
Well, Lawson, you handled that brilliantly. Dean climbed into his car, heart po
unding, body bathed in icy sweat. Way to tackle an issue head on. Run away with your tail between your legs. He didn’t have a tail, but his nuts were sucked so far up inside him he might never see them again.
Damn it. All the planning, all the scenarios that had played in his head over the years, all the things he’d intended to say had evaporated the minute Haley Carling walked into that coffee shop. Instead, he nearly fell off his stool when her whiskey-colored gaze touched him. When she thought he looked familiar, panic’s fist squeezed his insides, and he knew he had to get out of there. It was only a matter of time before she recognized him.
But wasn’t that the point? He’d returned to Hareton prepared for the attack, and this time do a little attacking himself. Then, at the first opportunity, he ran. Just like he had twelve years ago.
He started the car, but hesitated before pulling away from the curb. Where to go? He considered checking into a hotel, but the minute the clerk saw his credit card, the whole town would know he was back. And at this point he wanted to keep a low profile at least until… Until what? What the hell was he doing here?
He could think of only one place to go. He pulled onto the street, made a U-turn at the next set of lights and circled back the way he’d come. As he drove, he thought of Haley.
So, she and Paige weren’t speaking. He wasn’t surprised. The girls in that family had bickered constantly the entire time he knew them. He supposed that wasn’t likely to stop just because they had grown up. Just because Michelle was gone.
Back then he’d been the hired help, watching the antics of his employer’s children like the audience at a movie. Until Michelle turned her dark eyes and brilliant smile on him. Of the few things in life Dean regretted, that day stood chief among the others.
Michelle had been blonde and beautiful, fun and a little bit wild. And after dating her for two months he realized she was also flaky, self-absorbed and immature. He felt bad thinking so. After all, one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.
Paige had been Michelle’s polar opposite. Dark and angry, with a mouth on her that should have been reserved for locker rooms and cock fights.