Prelude of Lies (7 page)

A waitress met them at the door, properly sizing up the three hunks that had accompanied them inside. She winked at Sydney when Marshal urged her forward, placing his hand at the center of her back.

“Pick your seats. You’re probably the only customers we’ll have tonight. Most everyone is cleaning up after that storm. Trees are down everywhere and power is out in half the county.” She waited until they chose, putting menus down in front of them as soon as they adjusted themselves in the oversized booth.

Of course, Sydney ended up thigh to thigh with Marshal.

“We thought it was just us without power.” Sydney picked up the menu, but waited for the waitress’s response.

“Where are you folks?”

“Brookside Campground.” Sydney watched because the reaction from the folks in town always interested her.

“You’re Del’s girls? Sydney and Daisy? Oh my goodness, how you’ve grown up. I haven’t seen you since your momma put a stop to Del bringing you to a bar for lunch. We need to talk. I can tell you stories about Del that will make your hair curl. You both are even more gorgeous as the last pictures he showed me.”

Perfect. Maybe Sydney could find out what prompted Gramps to marry The Vileness. Eventually. She caught Daisy’s warning glare and figured asking those kinds of questions the first time probably wasn’t a good idea.

“That’s right. We’d love to hear your stories about Gramps.” Daisy’s politeness had an undercurrent of suspicion and Sydney kicked her under the table.

Besides the brief shock that crossed Daisy’s face, she gave no indication that the kick hurt, even though Sydney knew it had.

“I’m Kay Peters. You probably don’t remember me. Del and I went to high school together. My husband, Ed, and I own this place. We opened about the same time Del took over Brookside. I’m so glad you girls are planning to reopen.”

“There’s a lot of work that needs to be done first. I don’t think we’ll measure up to Gramps’ standard for a little while yet.” Sydney didn’t want to say too much, or give away too much information. What if Kay liked Violet?

“You let me know if you need any help. My grandsons are looking for part-time jobs. They’re strong boys with a good work ethic.” Kay tapped her order pad. “What can I get you all to drink?”

After ordering a round of beers and an ice tea for Dave, Sydney waited until Kay went to the kitchen to grab Daisy’s hand. “We could use the extra help, even if it’s just on weekends and after school.”

“That we could, but we don’t know Kay’s relationship with The Vileness yet. If we can’t find out before we leave tonight, we’ll come back and talk to her.” Daisy swatted Dave, who’d made a show out of trying to see down her shirt.

Marshal chuckled at their play, the vibration reaching Sydney from where they touched. She had a hard time concentrating on the menu and ignoring him.

Kay reappeared a very short time later with a loaded tray. “Hopefully you all are ready to order? Ed wants to close down the kitchen just in case that storm moves back in like it’s supposed to.”

“Would it be better if we went someplace else to eat? We don’t want to put you out.” Sydney hoped her question sounded genuine and not snotty.

“Don’t you dare.” Kay was offended. Now she’d done it. After a brief and intense stare down, Kay laughed. “Damn, but if you aren’t Del through and through. He was as polite and stubborn as you.”

Sydney took the statement as the compliment it was intended. They gave their orders, mostly burgers and fries. Except for Graham, who ordered a salad. Wuss.

“Vegetarian?” Daisy asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Not really. I just limit my intake of red meat and processed food.” Graham sniffed and turned his head.

She hid her smile, but at the same time, wondered at Daisy’s expression. She seemed almost . . . interested. Oh God. Marshal’s hand brushed Sydney’s leg and he fidgeted in his seat against the wall.

“Do you need me to move?”

“Not that I don’t love having you pressed against me, but I’m feeling a little claustrophobic. How about a game of pool before our food comes?”

“Okay, but I’m not very good at pool.” Sydney shifted and stood, sending Daisy eyes that hopefully told her to stay quiet. Daisy took the hint and covered her mouth with her hand. Maybe Sydney could get some of her dignity back after last night’s stupid comments.

She let Marshal break, watching as he sank two solid balls in rapid succession. He moved to the opposite side of the table and lined up his next shot and Sydney saw her chance.

Leaning forward, she exposed enough cleavage to make her mother screech. “Call your shot.”

Marshal looked up, not getting farther than the swell of her breasts.

“Six. Corner.” He took a deep breath and scratched.

Grinning, Sydney took over the table, purposefully missing an easy shot. When Marshal went to try the same set up, because she hadn’t done anything but put the cue ball back in its original position, she leaned forward again and almost laughed when the shot went wild.

Marshal came to her side of the table, picked up the chalk, and growled in her ear. “You did that on purpose.”

She turned innocent eyes on him. “Did what?”

“Quit showing me your boobs.”

“I did not. Quit looking.” God, she wanted to suck his neck.

“Your shot.” He nudged her bottom with his stick.

By the time she lined up the eight ball, Marshal’s expression had changed to a glare of suspicion. “You lied.”

“About what?” She tried to sound innocent. “Eight ball, side.”

“You’re a con artist.” Marshal shook his head as the ball dove into the pocket.

“I am not. I’m just lucky.”

“Yeah, right. How about this . . .?”

Their food arrived, interrupting the challenge she was certain Marshal was about to lay down. Damn.

“After dinner. Rematch. Only with a little wager.”

The dare in his eyes was too much to resist.

“You got it.”

Kay urged them to stay as she cleared the dishes. “You realize I’m not kicking you out. Ed just wants to get the gas turned off on the grill. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Actually, you probably should. The TV’s beeping with a severe weather alert, telling everyone to stay put unless traveling is an emergency.”

Good. She and Marshal could play their game of pool.

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 . . .”