Prelude of Lies

PRELUDE OF LIES

VICTORIA SMITH

SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

New York

PRELUDE OF LIES

Copyright©2015

VICTORIA SMITH

Cover Design by Syneca Featherstone.

This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher.  The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502

ISBN: 978-1-61935-
909-3

www.SoulMatePublishing.com

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

For my Momma…

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my momma for never giving up on this book or me. Sharing this with you was one of my greatest joys. I hope you’re watching from heaven! Thanks to That Man, Those Kids, Bootsquad, and the rest of my crazy family for always supporting me. I don’t know what I’d do without you!

CHAPTER 1

Sydney squinted in the darkness. Nothing moved. There wasn’t even a paw print in the muddy ground. She’d seen the wounded dog, or she wouldn’t be out here. The pitiful, whining gray animal had disappeared, exactly like it had this morning when she’d seen it limping into the woods.

Her heart hurt for the dog. She turned and stopped at the door of the cabin as movement to her left caught her eye. Cold air seeped through her sweatshirt and her breath came out a foggy white cloud. Her pulse increased as she watched a vague circle of light skitter across the still bare trees, stopping to rest in a pothole in the middle of the mostly mud, supposed-to-be-gravel drive.

She shook her head. This was not paranormal stuff. What she saw was a flashlight, and a dying one at that, not an orb or whatever bullshit Daisy spouted off about spirit forms and hauntings. Someone was definitely messing with them.

Still. The odd light spurred her into the cabin, irrational fear causing her to turn the lock and lean against the aged wood.

“No luck?” Daisy’s head snapped up at Sydney’s quick entrance.

“Gone again. Wounded animals are not . . .” Sydney took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease.

“The spirits are back.” Daisy stepped away from the window, batteries in one hand and a tape recorder in the other. “I’m going to try to talk to them.”

“I don’t think you should. There’s something out there, but not spirits. And it’s cold. Really cold.” Sydney doused the lamp, ignoring Daisy’s impatient shriek, and peeked through the dusty curtain where her sister stared.

“No way. The thermometer says it’s fifty degrees.” Daisy moved the curtain back farther and shouldered Sydney away from the window.

Fine. Sydney experienced the cold, she knew it was real. “I could see my breath. That thermometer’s, like, forty years old and someone
is
out there. On private property in the middle of the night.” She grabbed the rifle from the pegs beside the door.

“Not someone, an orb. Look. It’s so pretty.” Daisy’s voice took on a singsong quality as she pressed her face to the grimy glass for a better view.

“Bullshit.” Against her will and trembling with irritation, Sydney went to peer over her sister’s shoulder, amazed at how the light played over the limbs with slow precision before zipping to the next tree. “Vile Violet probably put Jace up to scaring us. That jackass.”

“There’s the dog again. Is that blood? Oh, Syd, he’s so skinny. We have to help him.”

Sydney grabbed the high-powered flashlight and the rifle. So she was a sucker for wounded animals. Maybe trying to help the dog was a bad idea, especially since someone was out there. Had to be Jace. Her anxiety faded.

“Okay.” She grabbed a half-eaten sandwich left from their dinner. “We’ll try to catch him one more time tonight. If we can’t, we’ll call someone tomorrow.”

“You are not going out there.” Daisy tried to take the flashlight. “I mean, not without me.”

Releasing the flashlight into her sister’s hand, Sydney checked the rifle and opened the door. The baseball-sized light continued to skitter over the sparse stand of trees dividing campsites, despite the fact that they stood in front of its apparent point of origin.

The dog was gone. A puddle of reddish thick liquid left on the ground where it had laid. Sydney opened the foil and waved the food around, hoping to entice the animal into the clearing.

“It’s an orb. See? We’re not blocking the source.” Daisy stepped forward. “Feel that? Cold spots can also come from spirits. They suck energy out of the air around them to try and materialize.”

Sure. Right. That made perfect sense. “Turn the flashlight on and check behind us. The dog could be behind those bushes. As for the light, I’m betting The Vileness sent Jace.” Sydney was going to kick his ass when they flushed him out.

“Didn’t you charge this?” Daisy flicked the button back and forth a bunch of times. The light didn’t cooperate.

“Worked fine a minute ago.” Sydney shrugged and handed her the flashlight she’d stuck in her back pocket. “Try this one. The batteries are new.”

“Nope. Look.”

Sydney turned her attention back to the random light. The circular shape had grown, the center swirling with frenetic movement.

“This won’t work, Jace,” Sydney shouted, clenching her fists at her sides.

“Syd, it’s not Jace. The energy sucked the life out of our flashlights. That’s why it’s bigger. This area has to have a high level of paranormal activity. Maybe the dog is a ghost. Maybe he died here.”

Sydney wanted to vomit at Daisy’s awestruck tone. “Right. That’s why there’s blood here. I don’t think ghost dogs bleed, Daisy. The dog is real and Jace is trying to scare us.” And if he was trying to use that poor animal to get to them, he’d be sorrier than he’d ever been in his life.

Daisy’s eyes widened as she grabbed Sydney’s arm. “Watch.”

The light stopped on a branch before gradually descending to the base of the tree. The glowing circle hovered over the exposed roots before brightening and moving away so fast, Sydney almost didn’t see it.

Except she did and there wasn’t an explanation. Well, there might be, depending on Jace’s determination. Who knew what he’d do in his quest to take over the campground for his beloved, evil grandmother. The flashlight came to life, blinding her for a moment. Sydney took it and scanned the property. Nothing, not even the wounded dog, showed up in the beam.

Satisfied whoever put on the little freak show had left, Sydney grabbed the light from Daisy and turned it off, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“Wait. I told you there was something at the pond.” Daisy took a step forward.

Wispy clouds hovered over the center of the water. The clouds swirled and moved, as if in a complicated dance. It was beautiful. And just fog.

“I’m going over.” Daisy held up the tape recorder.

“You are not. That’s fog.” Honestly, if she clanked chains in the middle of the night, Daisy would be convinced some tormented soul inhabited their cabin.

Daisy believed everything, even stuff that was so fake a five-year-old wouldn’t accept. She was like a supernatural sponge and disregarded scientific explanations no matter what. After growing up with her sister, the amateur ghost hunter, and listening to tale upon tale of ghosts and spirits, Sydney couldn’t stomach the subject. At all.

Not that she didn’t believe. She’d had her share of unexplainable situations throughout her life. Sydney swore Gramps was with her sometimes. The smell of his aftershave would surround her and she could almost hear his raspy laugh. She didn’t know what the difference was. Gramps visits comforted, but Daisy’s ghost obsession left her cold.

“I want to help them. They only need to be told it’s okay to move on. Sometimes they don’t know because their death might have been traumatic or unexpected. The spirits are trapped in the time they died.” Daisy moved out of Sydney’s grasp.

“No way. Not with Jace and his cronies snooping around. It’s not safe. He’ll do whatever he can to make us leave. What would Gramps say if we let that happen?” She didn’t doubt Jace’s grandmother would concoct underhanded and dangerous plots to get them to sign over Brookside.

Daisy shrugged her off, her attention focused on the water and the clouds hovering at the surface. Sydney watched with her for a minute, guilty for being such a bitch about her sister’s favorite subject. The clouds did resemble figures, dancing at some long-ago ball.

When one of the clouds stopped and seemed to point a long wispy arm their way, a chill filled Sydney and she gently put her hand on Daisy’s shoulder, not wanting her to know how shaky her insides were. “Come on.”

Daisy followed, constantly turning toward the pond as they walked. She didn’t speak and Sydney’s guilt ratcheted up a notch.

Back in the cabin, Sydney locked the door, checked the safety on the rifle and put it back on the pegs. Fitting the charging plug into the back of the spotlight, she refused to think anything had happened to the battery except a bad charge. The wiring in the cabins wasn’t up to code, another thing that needed to be fixed before reopening the campground.

“Don’t even think about going back out there.” She glared at Daisy.

Daisy put her camera down. “Like usual, you’re afraid of things you don’t need to be afraid of. All I want is a few pictures to send to my friend. You need to relax and open yourself up to new possibilities a lot more. And I’m not only talking about the ghosts.”

“Knock it off. This isn’t about me and my beliefs, or my social life not measuring up. Quit acting like I’m telling you what to do. Be logical. This place hasn’t been open in five years. It’s not safe in the daytime, let alone when you can’t see where you’re going. I don’t want you to get hurt, by nature or Jace.” Sydney took a deep breath, trying to quell her irritation. Why did Daisy always bring up Sydney’s choices and lack of social life?

“Fine. Whatever.” Daisy turned to the window, effectively shutting Sydney out.

“Daisy, please. I can’t do this without you. I know you don’t want to be here. Hell, I’m not sure I want to be here, but we promised Gramps. As soon as we beat Vile Violet at this stupid game of hers, you can go. No questions asked.” And Sydney hoped Daisy changed her mind in the end.

“Why did he marry her, Syd? Gramps did everything she wanted and she was so mean. It’s stupid.” Daisy faced her, her hand still on the window.

“I know. I wish I knew why Gramps did the things he did. Marrying Violet, the bizarre stipulations he let her put on our ownership of Brookside, he had to have reasons. We just might not ever know.” Unless they could find Gramps’ journals, though reading his personal thoughts wasn’t something she really wanted to do. Her chest ached. She missed him so much. “Beating The Vileness is all that matters right now.”

Daisy stepped away from the window and Sydney wondered if she’d given up on wanting to go outside. “She didn’t used to be so mean. At first we thought she was good for Gramps. Remember?”

“Not that we had much chance to get to know her.” Sydney shrugged, hoping Daisy would drop the subject. Vile Violet had banned them from hanging out at Brookside shortly after she married their grandfather and it still hurt.

“Why are we even here? We’re not going to beat her. The will favors her and so did the judge. She probably paid him off. She has the money and resources to stop us. She’s going to win. Let’s just sell and get out while we can. Let her build her stupid casino. What difference does it make to us?” Daisy fingered her camera, no conviction in her words.

“Don’t talk like that,” Sydney warned, knowing Daisy only spouted off in frustration, but also maybe a little afraid because she’d been having similar thoughts lately.

“I know. I’m sorry. Trying to reopen this place is just so overwhelming. Our cash is low. We can’t afford to hire help and even if we can open by our June deadline, what do we have to offer guests? I mean, except for a grand case of poison ivy and more mosquito bites than they can scratch?” Daisy spread her arms wide and let out a frustrated sigh.

Daisy
was
right. Their task was enormous, but Sydney wasn’t about to give up yet. She needed to do this for Gramps, for Daisy, and for herself. Why else would she quit her high-paying job, leave her condo and move into the middle of the tick-infested woods to run a campground? She and Daisy promised Gramps they’d reopen, and they would.

“We’re going to do this, Daisy. We have to.” They had no choice and they both knew it, despite the griping and complaining. Unwilling to argue, Sydney got up and banged her bedroom door behind her.

Daisy watched Sydney slam the door, guilt almost making her change her mind about going outside again. No matter what Sydney thought or chose to ignore, spirits did roam the campground. Daisy watched the balls of light from the window as she tried to decide how to make her sister believe. The injured, disappearing dog, the lights, the ghostly figures on the pond and the strange noises from the bathhouse neither of them liked to use. Unfortunately, she wasn’t qualified to prove anything, but she knew someone who was.

In her heart, Daisy knew Brookside was where she needed to be. She couldn’t escape the feeling that something big was about to happen and she felt guilty for her negative thoughts. Wanting to be here was an entirely different story. Grabbing her camera, she opened the front door, hoping Sydney didn’t hear the loud creak and mentally adding a can of “anti-squeak” to her list of things they needed as she shut the door as gently as possible. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to find the positives in this situation.

When she couldn’t, she hunkered down beside a tree and waited for the spirits she knew would come.

Sydney woke to the smell of coffee. The room seemed brighter than normal. Daisy waved through the window, scrubbing the panes with a concentrated expression that told Sydney she hadn’t slept much.

With a groan, she rolled over, her body protesting the physical labor they’d done since they arrived. Yesterday, they’d spent the entire day untangling years of poison ivy from the power boxes. When they arrived the day before, they’d used every moment of daylight making the cabin habitable.

The door opened and Daisy bounded in, her bright smile in contrast with the dark circles under her eyes. “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Obviously.” Sydney forced a pleasant smile, even though she cringed inside. Somehow, she knew Daisy’s thinking didn’t bode well for her. “It looks great in here. What’s on your mind?”

“Well. I watched the pond for a long time and took some pictures. There is something out there. Not Jace. Spirits. Lots of them. You need to see what I captured. And I wonder if maybe we should call a paranormal investigator? I know a few people who might be willing to come out and see what we’ve got here.” Daisy stared out the window and Sydney wondered what she had up her sleeve.