Daemon of the Dark Wood by Randy Chandler Read Free Book Online

let his daughter and her roommate move in two weeks early; all they had to do in return was keep the swimming pool clean and chemically balanced until the groundskeepers and maintenance crew reported for duty a week before the grand opening. It was, as Angela had said upon learning of the arrangement, “a really sweet deal.” Julie’s father had already had their unit furnished, so all they had to do was carry their personal items from the van to the townhouse. The cable TV hook-ups weren’t ready for service yet because the big satellite dish on the roof of the stately clubhouse needed fine tuning, but Julie didn’t care about that anyway. She planned to spend much of her time working on her new novel (tentatively titled:
The Ravenwood Horror
), and in her off time, reading some of the classics of literature she’d never found time to read before.
    Having promised never to disturb Julie when she was writing, Angela planned to work on her tan during the sunlit hours and audit a few night drama classes at Dogwood Community College before actually beginning her enrollment as a fulltime student in the fall. She had dropped out of the University of Georgia back in 2004, pleading lack of motivation, and went to work as a waitress at a Hooter’s in an Atlanta suburb. There she had fallen in with some theater types and aspiring actors, and had gotten caught up in their enthusiasm for the stage and all things theatrical. “It’s the thespian life for me,” she was fond of saying, enjoying the odd looks of those who thought “thespian” had something to do with sexual persuasion. She harbored no grandiose plans about going to Hollywood and becoming a movie star; Angela wanted to be a stage actor, be it in summer stock, off-Broadway or diminutive dinner theaters. She wanted to play juicy roles in front of live audiences. Though her stage experience was limited to a minor role in her high school’s inevitable presentation of
Our Town
, she wholeheartedly believed she had real talent, and Julie agreed.
    Hazy sunlight glinted off the inviting blue-green water in the Olympic-size swimming pool as they drove past, prompting Angela to say, “Stop right here. I’m gonna take a baptismal dip. I’m serious. Stop.”
    “You’re seriously disturbed,” said Julie, stopping beside the pool. “We’re in the mountains now, remember? That water’s gonna be really cold.”
    Angela jumped out of the van. “Come on, you pussy, let’s go skinny dipping.”
    “Not me. I’ll give you two minutes, then I’m driving off. I want to get unpacked and settled.”
    Angela dashed to the pool, stripped off her shorts and T-shirt, shed her bra and panties, then dove into the water. Julie left the motor running, and impatiently drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She surveyed the surroundings, checking to be sure that there was no one else around to see Angela’s nude swimming exhibition. But of course there wouldn’t be anyone else. They had the place all to themselves. Julie expected that they would have the run of the place until late summer when the units would fill up with college students from wealthier families.
    Angela surfaced, screaming shrilly. “Jesus Christ! It’s cold as a witch’s tit!” She hopped out of the pool, threw on her shirt and shorts, and ran back to the van with her undergarments clutched tightly in her hand. Through chattering teeth, she said, “Yu-yu-you’re ri-ri-right, it’s cu-cucu-cold.”
    Julie drove slowly forward, following the narrow little street up an incline and stopping at its zenith so they could look down into the quadrangle behind the clubhouse. It was an elaborate rock garden with a bubbling fountain and imposing statuary, enclosed by thick sharp-edged hedges of dark green.
    Forgetting her shivers, Angela cried, “Holy shit! An army of angels!”
    “Surprise!” said Julie, laughing like a naughty child. “Mountview Villas, where the angels come to roost.”
    “How the hell did