Jekyll Island: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 5) (19 page)


Thanks
for stopping by Taryn,” Ellen thanked her as she walked her down to the hotel lobby. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“I am,” Taryn agreed. “I just wanted to  let you know that I’d be gone for a few days but that the paintings are still on schedule and will be delivered in time.”

“Do you need anything?” Amy, Ellen’s assistant asked. She was pert young woman with a haircut that left her looking like a pixie and big blue eyes. Taryn was reminded of Rosemary Woodhouse.

“No, I’m fine. I’m going to drive up to the airport in Savannah and leave my car there,” she answered.

“I live in Savannah. What time’s your flight? I could take you,” Amy offered. “Save on parking.”

“Actually, that would be nice,” Taryn assented. “I’ll email you the itinerary when I get back to the house.”

It was the start of the “magic hour” when Taryn made it outside and the hotel was lit up with a rosy glow. Without any cars in the circular driveway or people in modern clothing milling around going in and out it reminded Taryn of what the hotel would’ve looked like back when it was first constructed. It was nice to be able to see a glimpse of the past in person, rather than having to rely on Miss Dixie’s talents, and Taryn found herself enjoying a quiet moment. She wanted to throw on a white tea dress, straw hat, and stroll the front porch.

Maybe I’ll do that soon
, she smiled.

With all the talk of death, fires, murder, and mysteries it was getting harder and harder to see places for the good and gentle times they’d experienced. She had to remind herself that the hotel had been a treasure, and still was, regardless of the terrible incident that had cost so many their lives.

Wanting to capture the moment Taryn turned Miss Dixie on and snapped several photos of the front lawn, circular porch, and curving driveway. Then, with the sky a glorious blaze of color, she walked down to the river and snapped a shot of a shrimp boat docking at the rickety wooden pier.

It was a picture-perfect scene.

Taryn didn’t know then that it would be one of the last peaceful moments she’d have on the island.


Why
didn’t you tell me that you were going up to New Hampshire?” Matt demanded.

“I talked to you about it already,” Taryn sniffed. “I even asked you to go with me. You said you couldn’t, that you couldn’t leave your project.”

“I don’t want you going up there alone,” Matt said, his face reddening. He stalked around her living room, picking up blankets and folding them, rearranging sofa cushions, stacking magazines on the coffee table–typical things Matt tended to do when he was frustrated or nervous. “I won’t let you.”


Let me
,” Taryn snorted. “Please.”

“You’ve had too much happen to you, Taryn. What if something happens up there? What am I supposed to do?”

Taryn tried hard to keep her composure. They’d been arguing about this for two hours. She knew this was Matt’s way of showing that he cared but it was making her angry and she also knew that any minute she was liable to explode and say something she shouldn’t.

“I am just going to fly up there, rent a car, look at Aunt Sarah’s house, and meet with the lawyer. Then I’m coming back. I’m only spending one night!”

“Then I’ll call work and get a few more days off. I’ll go with you.”

Taryn smiled thinly and closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. “Look, I truly appreciate it but this may be something that I have to do on my own. I should’ve gone up there months ago. I’ll be fine. I can’t expect you to protect me always.”

Matt did not look happy. “You’re never going to really let me in, are you?” he asked sadly. “Whenever I have helped you it’s because I’ve invited myself or just shown up. You don’t need me do you?”

“Aw, Matty.” Taryn gazed him with guilt. She’d hurt his feelings, she could see that written all over his face, and she felt terribly guilty for doing so. “You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I would do without you. But you have to let me–“

“Go?” he finished for her.

“No,” she corrected him. “You have to let me make mistakes sometimes and do things alone.”

Matt lowered his eyes and focused on a spot on the area rug. Taryn, feeling sorry that they were arguing when they didn’t have much time left together, put her hand on his leg.

“What’s the matter, Matt?” she asked. “You’ve seemed a little off since you’ve been here?”

“I don’t think I like what I’m doing anymore,” he confessed softly. “Not with you, not with work, not with my house…”

Taryn felt like the bottom of her stomach dropped out. “What do you mean with me? Do you want to stop seeing me?”

“No!” he cried, looking up, eyes hot. “The opposite actually. The panic I feel about something happening to us makes me crazy. I want more. I’m just not happy.”

“You’ve wanted to work at NASA your whole life,” she pointed out. “What else would you do?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I might enjoy teaching. And I do have an engineering degree. I’ve always been interested in bridges.”

She tried to imagine Matt working in something that didn’t involve space but couldn’t. Still, he looked like the little boy she’d known as a child, his eyes big and sad. He was depressed. She could feel it. And she didn’t know how to help him.

“I don’t think you
need
me,” Matt said as he stood and began pacing the room. “Clarissa
needed
me. I felt like my presence added something to her life. Even her parents talked about how much better her life was with me in it.”

Taryn, whose burst of sympathy suddenly waned slightly, wasn’t sure if she should roll her eyes, snort, or laugh. If only he were joking…

“Matt, comparing me to your ex-girlfriend, the one who dumped
you
by the way, isn’t going to win me over. I need you in a different way. I’ve known you longer than I haven’t known you and I can’t really fathom a life without you in it in some way. But I still need my independence. I still need to do things my own way. That’s just who I am.”

Matt broke his gaze and lowered his eyes. “But with Clarissa–“

“I don’t mind talking about our future or your current job or your new job or whatever else we have going on right now, but I don’t want to talk about an ex-girlfriend who never treated you well to begin with,” Taryn fumed.

“You bring up Andrew all the time,” Matt pointed out. “And he’s been dead for, what, six years?”

“Andrew didn’t leave me on purpose,” Taryn nearly shouted. “He
died
! And you know you’re the only person I’ve tried to make a relationship work with since.”

“Things with Clarissa were just so much different and–“

“Oh my God, Matt!” Taryn jumped to her feet and stalked the living room, looking for her shoes. When she found her beat-up sandals, she slipped them on and headed the door. “I’m going out for a few minutes.”

“Where are you going?” Matt cried, looking at her in panic.

“To ride my bike. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Taryn tried hard not to slam the front door behind her, but she was boiling. That was at least the fifth time Matt had brought up Clarissa’s name over the course of his visit. Taryn knew they were getting close to the anniversary of Matt’s breakup and that, for that reason, she was probably on his mind more than ever but Taryn was sick of it. Clarissa graduated at the top of her class, Clarissa’s family had invited him for all the major holidays and even sprung for his plane ticket, Clarissa had constantly complimented him…

Yet she couldn’t have been
that
perfect and their relationship so great. After all, she had dumped him just weeks before the wedding. Taryn herself had flown down to comfort him, drag his behind out of the house when he started to pale, done his grocery shopping and cooked his meals…She’d done her part to take care of him and listen. She thought she’d done enough.

Besides
, she thought as she pedaled her bike furiously down Old Plantation Road and then through the quiet streets,
it wasn’t anything like what had happened to Andrew
.

He’d died and left Taryn alone. Clarissa had just found someone else.

It was hard with Matt, she tried to remind herself, because they were so in tune with each other. She could be miles away and know that something was going on with him. They shared literal dreams with one another, often seeing the same landscape in their sleep. They were bound to have arguments.

Sometimes she just needed distance.                                          

In spite of the late hour, Taryn wasn’t the only one out for a night ride. She passed several men and women on their beach cruisers, their night lights flashing into the blackness. They sent polite waves to one another as they passed on the bike trail but nobody spoke. She sensed that she was the only one out for a leisure ride. Everyone else looked red and tired, their baskets stuffed with blankets and beach gear, as though they were returning home after a long day out on the sand.

Taryn rode for more than hour, going up and down residential streets before darting back out to the main road. Some of the rental houses had their lights on and curtains open. She caught glimpses of families sitting around dining room tables playing board games, of cartoons on the big-screen televisions, of parents laughing while the kids tried to swirl spaghetti strands around their forks. Everyone appeared so happy and relaxed, together as a family.

Taryn had never had that.

Of course, she knew that she wasn’t getting the whole picture–it was easy enough to look happy and relaxed while you were on vacation.

Although she was cooling off now she was still frustrated with Matt. Part of her found his possessiveness endearing but the other part was angry. He wouldn’t “let” her go to New Hampshire? Comparing her to an old girlfriend? Perhaps transitioning from best friend to boyfriend hadn’t been as smooth as she’d thought. In the past it had been simple enough listening to him moan and groan about his relationships and their demise. She’s sympathized with him, held his hand, and supported him. Now, though, she just didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to think he was comparing her to someone else and that she might be coming up short.

Realizing she was starting to work herself up again, Taryn stopped pedaling and slowed to a stop. Looking around, she saw that she was on a part of the island she’d never been on before. There was a pond before her and it glistened in the moonlight as prettily as the ocean did. A wide path led down to the edge. Although she was wary of things that lurked in the dark there, two streetlights overhead illuminated the path all the way down to the water. She could see the entire circumference, as well as the water’s surface, and nothing appeared to be moving or slithering about.

Letting her bike fall gently to its side, Taryn slipped down the small embankment and strolled towards the edge of the water. A park bench had been planted there and she stopped and rested on it, letting her feet dangle in the air.

“Well that’s just great,” she scolded herself. “He’s leaving in the morning and you’re out here riding your bike by yourself and leaving him at the house.”

Several cars drove by above, and this comforted her. At least she wasn’t out there alone. People were still out and about.

Angry now, she fell back against the bench and sulked. Taryn didn’t have much of a temper, but she
had
been known to cut off her nose to spite her face.

It was hormonal, she decided. She was tired and stressed and being unreasonable. She was worried about what had been happening on the island with the ghosts, still sick from the snakebite and antidote, and apprehensive about her upcoming trip to New Hampshire. The Clarissa thing had just been the last straw and not something that would’ve normally set her off.

Matt wasn’t always the easiest person to deal with either. Although he was sensible most of the time, he had a stubborn and selfish streak in him, as well as a one-track mind.

And a
very
small understanding of women.

Groaning in weariness, Taryn realized she was finished with her bike ride and needed to get back to the house. She wasn’t accomplishing anything out there alone, although she felt slightly better. The minute she rose from the bench, however, a noise from atop the rise had her taking a step back. It crunched and rustled, the sound of bushes moving aside and sticks breaking from something moving through and over them. Something
large
.

Taryn froze in her tracks and tried to peer up the small hill. She could still see her bike but was almost certain it was leaning on the ground more than a few feet away from where she’d left it. Taking a tentative step forward and holding her breath, Taryn moved slowly, her eyes darting all around her.

“Hello?” she called out in a hoarse voice. “Anyone there?”

Nobody answered, although the faint rustling continued, this time sounding much closer.

Hoping it was just another visitor out for a night stroll she picked up her pace, moving up the slight incline in several bounds.

The road spread out before her, dark and empty. She looked both ways but couldn’t see headlights in any direction, nor were there any bikes or vehicles pulled over to the side. To her surprise, however, her bicycle helmet was laying several feet from the bike, close to a bush that was nearly as tall as she was.

Having distinctly remembered clasping it around her handlebars, Taryn froze in fright, her blood running cold through her veins. The straps were unclasped and spread out neatly to the sides, as though someone had placed it there intentionally.

“Hello?” she asked again, this time a tremble in her voice.

Taryn gently lifted her bike and kicked the kick stand, leaving it standing. The push to just
go, go, go
was strong in her, but the helmet had cost her $30 she hadn’t really had and she was damned if she was going to leave it behind.

Creeping softly towards the bush where her helmet lay, Taryn twisted her fingers together and bit her lips, the blood pumping through her with rapid speed and her heart’s pounding visible under her shirt.

When she was a foot away from the sparkly pink plastic helmet, she squatted down to pick it up, relief coursing through her that she could now make haste and get out of there. It was at that moment, however, that a sound she’d never heard before exploded from the bush just inches from her face. With her hand on the helmet she glanced up and found herself face-to-face with the long, scaly snout of an alligator.

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