Prelude of Lies

by Victoria Smith

  Daisy played with Graham at the next table. Apparently, Graham hadn’t immediately figured out that both of them had a gift for billiards. From the time they were old enough to see the top of the table, Gramps taught them respect for the game and their opponent and when not to bet. She and Daisy had made a little extra pocket money during college. Sydney hated to admit it was far more than necessary and that they’d scammed their share of drooling drunks.

  Daisy winked as she lined up her shot and barely sent the cue ball six inches. Graham was in trouble and didn’t even know it yet. Sydney wondered about the terms of their bet, but, then again, considering the way Daisy flirted, maybe she didn’t really want to know. Marshal ordered her another beer, setting it on the high table beside the cue sticks.

  “Thanks. Don’t think alcohol is going to make a difference in my game. It won’t. I could drink you under the table and still win.” Uh-oh. Those were big words for someone who hadn’t played, or drank like that in several years.

  “I know you can outdrink me. I saw the pile of wine bottles this morning. You should be in bed and moaning.”

  Holy shit. Did he just say that? In bed and moaning?

  He winked, and she shook her head. “You have no idea who you’re up against.”

  “Neither do you.”

  Oh. Sydney hadn’t thought of that. The last time she bet on pool she was in college, playing with boys who were more hormones than experience. Marshal was a man. The testosterone was still there, but so were years of experience.

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-six. You?”

  “Thirty.” Yep. She’d underestimated him.

  “Ready to hear the terms of the game?” He cornered her by the high table, not exactly touching her, but not doing anything to settle her libido either.

  “Bring it on.” She straightened and locked eyes with him. No way would she let him know the dirty thoughts running through her head.

  “One kiss for each ball I miss.” He seemed very satisfied with himself. His terms would prevent her from any more cleavage shows, well, unless she liked his terms.

  She probably would. But she couldn’t let him know that.

  “Okay.” She didn’t blink.

  “What are your terms?” He stepped a bit closer.

  “Let’s play even. Same bet. Just to keep things interesting.” What had she just done? Now if she missed, and she would eventually, he’d think she’d done it on purpose. Where was her brain?

  Probably in her pants, or in his pants, or anywhere but in her head. Maybe it was time to rethink her “sex for fun” stance? Did she even know what she was getting into?

  “Fine. The thing is, I collect when we get back to the campground. These bozos would love that kind of a show, so let’s keep this private.” Marshal whispered in her ear, the warmth penetrating every female part of her and turning her knees into mush.

  She nodded. She didn’t want to give a peep show either, but the thought of kissing him in total privacy changed the whole thing. How many balls could she miss and not seem like she’d done it on purpose?

  She stood with her back against Daisy as Marshal sank yet another ball. So far, the score was dead even. Too bad for her. Daisy leaned her head back and smiled.

  “How’s it going?” She moved, watching Graham, or so Sydney thought.

  “Just peachy. How about you?” Sydney had a feeling they’d made a similar bet.

  “Eh. I’m losing, and by that, I mean I’m winning. Which is essentially losing.” She laughed.

  Sydney nodded. She knew exactly what she meant. The only problem was, Sydney didn’t much care for Graham and she didn’t think Daisy should get involved with him. No matter how different—translation: damn sexy—he was in faded jeans and a black T-shirt.

  He still did nothing for her. On the other hand, the few buttons undone on Marshal’s dark-blue shirt made her itch to slip her hands inside and feel the muscles she’d only vaguely viewed the day she crashed into him.

  Thunder rolled overhead and the lights flashed. Kay arrived on the scene with candles for the tables surrounding them and a lantern at the bar. And another round of beers.

  “I’m glad you all have a designated driver,” she said, nodding toward Dave who was busy with a stack of papers at their table. “Also glad to see you’re having fun.” She winked at Sydney and handed her a beer.

  Sydney accepted with a smile. She liked Kay, no matter how cautious Daisy seemed about the woman. If Kay was really Gramps’ pal then she couldn’t like Violet. She was dying to ask Kay’s opinion and pick her brain over why Gramps married such a woman, but that would have to wait.

  Kay obviously didn’t do well with storms, based on the screech she let out when lightning cracked close by, and the way she nervously buzzed around the restaurant re-doing chores. When she passed again, Sydney stopped her. Marshal had the pool table tied up and it would probably be ages until she got to play again. If she ever did. Stupid bet. You’d think he’d miss on purpose just to collect. The jerk.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” Sydney felt like a sponge for having a good time when Kay worked her tail off.

  “No. Storms make me nervous and I need to keep busy or go nuts.”

  Kay patted her arm.

  “Would it help if we left?” She really didn’t want to take advantage of the hospitality offered.

  “You’ll do no such thing. It’s terrible out there and you are absolutely not in the way here. Ed and I want you to stay or you wouldn’t still be here.” The passion and kindness in her eyes made Sydney shut up about leaving.

  “Thank you. We appreciate you letting us hang out. We’d be bumping into walls at the campground.” Marshal stopped at her shoulder, his close proximity making her want to lean into him. Or maybe that was the beer.

  “Did Del ever tell you some of the stories about the campground? Why am I asking? Of course he did.” Kay laughed, a choked sound due to the clap of thunder.

  “What stories?” Daisy moved in to listen.

  “The ghost stories. He never told you? We always laughed about it. Del said he didn’t have time for such things. He did have an open mind though. He’d never say spirits didn’t exist, but he’d never say they did either.” Kay warmed to her subject.

  “Sounds like an inherited trait.” Marshal’s breath brushed her cheek. She kept quiet, not sure what he meant by that. Had he seen through her mask of indifference?

  “We’d swap tales and then be too scared to move.” Kay leaned against the pool table.

  “What do you mean?” Marshal asked, his interest obvious.

  “There are at least two ghosts here in the bar. Friendly. Or at least I think so. Nothing bad has ever happened. In fact, one night as I was leaving out the back door, I heard a male voice plain as day say, ‘Check the front door.’ Sure enough, I’d left the door unlocked. Another time, I was in the kitchen, alone and I heard noise out here. I started out to inform whoever was here that we weren’t open yet, not thinking about the fact that I hadn’t yet unlocked the front door. The kitchen door shut and locked on me. I couldn’t get out. I saw someone trying to break into the cash register.” She pointed to a window Sydney hadn’t noticed.

  “Those are good spirits,” Daisy said, her interest in Kay’s story obvious.

  “Do you want to know exactly who’s here?” Marshal was nearly jumping up and down, like a kid with an ice cream cone. Oh, to get him to look at her like that.

  “I don’t know. Why?” Kay moved so she could see Marshal better.

  “I run a company called Tyler Investigations . . .”

  “I know who you are. I’ve heard of you. Ed wanted me to call and ask you to come here.”

  “Well, I’m here. We’re working at the campground. When we’
re done there, we’ll come and set up our equipment. That is, if you want us to?” Marshal’s excitement was catching. She could feel the vibes coming off him and they just made her want to get closer.

  “Would you? That would be great. But . . .” Kay wrung her hands.

  “No charge,” Marshal quickly added.

  “I don’t . . .” Kay wanted to accept Marshal’s offer, at least she seemed like she wanted to.

  “You don’t understand. I don’t charge unless it’s a corporation.”

  Kay appeared shocked. “How do you make any money?”

  Sydney raised a brow at him. She’d wanted to ask, but had been too chicken. Coming from anyone else the question would have been rude. Somehow, Kay’s worry over not being able to pay Marshal made it okay.

  “Most of us have other jobs. Dave is a computer consultant. He works mostly from the road.” Marshal nodded to Dave, still hunched over a stack of forms, his laptop battery dead.

  “I have a rotating crew and with enough notice, I always have enough help. We manage.”

  “What’s your other job?” Sydney asked.

  “Would you believe me if I said I work part time as a male stripper?”

  “Yeah. I probably would.” The thought of him stripping down to a G-string was enticing.

  “Too bad. Believe it or not, I own a chain of restaurants. I have the freedom to travel and do this, plus I get to cook when there’s nothing going on in the paranormal world.”

  “You’re kidding.” Sydney couldn’t see him donning a chef’s hat and apron.

  “You should see what I can do with whipped cream,” he said in a low voice with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

  She smacked his arm.

  “Ed and I would be grateful if you’d come here and find out about our ghosts,” Kay said, and Sydney wondered how much of their flirting she’d heard.

  “We’ll look forward to it.” Marshal’s eyes crinkled and Sydney watched as Kay fell victim to his charm.

  “What’s going on at the campground? I thought Del made most of those stories up.” Kay sat on one of the stools.

  Sydney kept quiet. Her secret was going to bite her in the ass one day soon.

  “I can’t believe Gramps knew there was activity there and never told us. I mean, Sydney and I sometimes thought we saw stuff, but Gramps acted like we were just playing.” Daisy leaned her cue stick against the table, the games forgotten as they gathered around to hear Kay repeat Gramps’ tales.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Del and I grew up in this town. I guess you knew that. What you don’t know is that I had my very first kiss in that campground. Behind one of the bathhouses.” Kay’s eyes sparkled in memory.

  “And who was it that kissed you? Ed?” Sydney had a feeling she already knew the answer.

  Kay glanced over her shoulder. “Not Ed. Del. He and I were an item for a while, but realized we were better off as friends. No spark at all. Anyway, Del tricked me into going into the trees by the bathhouse. Of course, I wanted him to kiss me. I didn’t expect what happened next.”

  Sydney knew exactly what trees Kay talked about. They were the same ones where she’d had her first kiss.

  “Well. I’d just decided that maybe kissing wasn’t for me. I think I was eleven or so. Del had just finished slobbering all over me when a cold wind blew through the trees. The next thing we knew, snow started falling. It was July. We were amazed and thought there was some kind of weather weirdness until we went to find out what was going on. At the entrance, the trees were almost like a little fort, there was a man. Half-dressed, with long dark hair and a bow in his hand. We stopped short when we saw him. He studied us for a few seconds and then went right through us. When we turned, not a bit of snow was anywhere and the temperature had returned to normal.”

  “Wow.” Daisy leaned forward. “Anything else?”

  “Lots of stuff. People have been coming in here for years talking about odd experiences in the campground. Let me think and I’ll write them down as I remember.”

  “Excellent.” Marshal’s face mimicked Daisy’s.

  “I think Del kept a journal about the strange stuff. If you have his records, you might find it.”

  Sydney thought about the contents of the box she’d received with the campground records and other family items. Could the journal be inside?

  Wait. Why was she getting excited? She wasn’t so sure she believed this stuff, even what she’d felt and seen with her own eyes. Now she was as bad as Daisy, believing any story without question.

  Marshal’s excitement was rubbing off.

  Oh. Bad way to compare.

  Daisy couldn’t believe Gramps never told them about Kay or the ghosts. She hadn’t trusted the woman, but her first kiss story had convinced Daisy that if Gramps liked and trusted her than they should, too. She wasn’t sure what Sydney thought. Her sister was acting weird.

  Having an ally that had the opportunity to listen to people discuss certain things was a benefit. Hopefully, they’d get time to ask if Kay had heard anyone talking trash about the campground. If she had, Kay would have probably already spilled those details by now.

  Sydney took a swig out of her beer bottle and sat back, apparently fighting with herself over something. She and Marshal had been pretty cozy during their pool game. Daisy couldn’t help but wonder what their stakes were, and if they were the same as hers and Graham’s. How she let him talk her into five minutes of total privacy for every ball he missed was beyond her. Apparently, Marshal and Graham were scam artists. So far, neither had missed, which didn’t say much for their desire to collect on the debt.

  Jackasses.

  Ed called for Kay from the kitchen and she rushed away, assuring their group that this was their nightly routine and no, she didn’t need any help.

  “Let’s play while we still can.” Graham tossed her the abandoned stick.

  “Your ball.” She tried to ignore him as he lined up his shot and thought about playing her sister’s cleavage trick.

  Except, she didn’t have any cleavage.

  Damn.

  Standing, she stretched, feeling a breeze where her shirt came untucked.

  Graham stopped behind her, his voice nearly a whisper. “You did that on purpose. Your shot.”

  “I did not.” Five minutes of total privacy. Oh, what she could do in those brief moments.

  She couldn’t remember if she’d decided to purposefully miss and add to the time or play fair or let things happen as they may. Playing for time didn’t really mean anything, but it sure did a lot for her hormones. Sinking the shot, she moved around the table never missing a ball and ignoring Graham as she went. The table was down to one solid, one stripe and the eight ball.

  Graham put his hand on her stick as she lined up the way too easy sink. “If you win, I get one whole night.”

  “How’s that fair?” Her blood heated, as if it could get any hotter.

  “What’s fair? You made me miss with that sweet tummy show.” He growled in her ear, his warm breath making it difficult to concentrate.

  “Not my fault. Half a night.”

  “All or nothing.” Graham leaned into her, his face only inches from hers. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Oh shit. She was done for.

  Marshal wiggled his eyebrows as he cleared the table of first his balls, and then hers.

  “And you called me a con.” Sydney didn’t know what to think. One minute he teased and flirted and the next, he sank the entire rack, technically losing those promised kisses for each missed ball.

  “Let’s play again.” He racked the table, moving the balls to order.

  “Fine. I break.” Did she want him to kiss her?

  “Let’s up the stakes.” He reached over her for
the chalk.

  “No. Our original agreement is fine by me.” She kept her tone playful, but wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. He’d see the confusion and hurt on her face and that would be a mistake.

  “Whatever, but you’re missing out.” He leaned back over her arm to replace the blue square.

  “Your opinion.” She broke, sending four balls home, and chose her mark. “Stripes. Corner.”

  She didn’t pay any attention to him as she sank the next three balls without effort. Two could play at Marshal’s little game. She’d clear the board, call them even and forget about his seductive wager.

  As she made her shot, the candles and lantern went out.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Mischievous, but not nasty,” Kay called from the kitchen.

  “You missed.” Marshal almost gloated after relighting the lantern.

  “Not my fault. I get to try again.” She held her stick in front of her like a shield.

  “Nope. You wouldn’t let me shoot again after your boob show. I think Kay’s ghost wanted you to miss.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  As if in answer, the house lights flickered. Sydney tried to shrug off the feeling that Marshal was right. “Your shot.”

  If Marshal had acted even a tiny bit superior, she could hate him. He lined up the ball, confident but not cocky, and she couldn’t think of a single reason not to like him. During his second shot, the lights flashed again and he missed.

  “Guess Kay’s ghost isn’t only picking on me.” She moved past him, sliding her chest across his back though there was plenty of room to go around.

  “Oh. Getting bold, aren’t we?” Marshal leaned against his stick and she resisted the urge to kick it out from under him. That would be playing gone too far.

  “We’re even.” She met his eyes with confidence.

  “Two kisses. In total privacy. Miss again.” He poked her with his stick.

  “You miss again.”

  “I might. On purpose.”