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

by Rebecca Patrick-Howard

  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.

  Later she wouldn’t be able to explain how she’d managed to pick up the helmet, run to her bike, and take off down the road so quickly. It was all so blurry. She’d moved with the speed of lightning, her feet barely touching the ground.

  She would always, however, remember the sound of the four strong legs on the pavement, running behind her. In fact, she’d continue to hear that sound in her sleep for a very long time.

  She’s read about alligators and their speed. She knew how quickly they could move. She knew how short her legs were. There was no way she could outrun an alligator. When she looked back and saw it rambling towards her, much faster than what its bulky body should allow, she’d screamed–a wild sound that filled the air and pierced her lungs and yet was still swallowed by the towering pines and night sky.

  On and on she’d cried as she’d ridden, a cold sweat making her handlebars slick. Once she’d lost her grip and nearly tumbled to the ground. Blinded by rage and fear, she’d lost sight of what was in front of her or where she was going, her only thought being to put as much distance between it and her as she could.

  When her voice was hoarse and her body so heavy with fatigue she thought she’d faint, a truck pulled up beside her and honked, its sound barely registering with her. Ignoring it, she kept on riding wildly, her legs throbbing with pain and her arms and shoulders weak from exhaustion.

  “Hey!” came a familiar voice. The truck had pulled up next to her again.

  Glancing over she saw the familiar face of David, his mouth lined with concern. “You okay?”

  “It’s there, it’s there! It’s after me!” she cried, unwilling to slow down.

  “What’s after you?” he asked, glancing behind him.

  “The gator! It’s chasing me!”

  Tears flowed down her face and were brushed away by the wind. Her nose was running and spittle caked her chin from where she’d been riding with her mouth open.

  “There’s no one there, Taryn. Nothing there,” he hollered back. “Just stop. Get in the truck. I’ll get your bike.”

  “No!”

  “Taryn, get in. I promise it’s gone.”

  Finally, Taryn came to a complete stop. In total exhaustion she flung her arms and head over her handlebars and wept, the sobs rolling off her in waves. She heard David get out of his truck and then felt him lift her from her bike. She let him carry her to the passenger side. Once in, she immediately locked the door and fell up against it, still sobbing.

  Once he had her bike securely in the truck bed, he sped off.

  “Tell me what happened,” he demanded.

  Through her tears she explained what she’d seen and heard.

  “That’s odd,” he mused. “The gators here don’t normally go after people. Maybe there were eggs or something nearby and it saw you as a threat.” He didn’t sound convinced, however.

  Once at the house he picked her up and carried her to the door where Matt met them. “Here you go,” David said, handing Taryn to a startled Matt. “I’ll g
et her bike and explain in a minute.”

  Matt reached out and gathered Taryn up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom where he deposited her on the comforter. “Be right back,” he promised, kissing her on the head.

  Taryn dozed from exhaustion, drifting in and out of sleep. She could hear the men talking in the living room but their words sounded very far away. One thing, however, caught her attention and had her sitting up in bed.

  “Gators don’t normally chase people here,” she heard David explaining, “but now I know why this one did.”

  “What was it?”

  “She had pieces of fresh meat stuck in her wheels. It’s a wonder that thing didn’t catch up with her and tear her to pieces. All over her helmet, too. She must’ve grabbed it so fast she didn’t see it.”

  Taryn fell back onto the bed, stunned.

  I’m dreaming, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. This is just a bad dream. That’s not what he said at all.

  Chapter 16

  “You should just leave,” Matt declared as he smoothly rolled up another T-shirt and stuffed it into his suitcase. “Come on home with me and finish your painting there. You can work from the house. You’re nearly finished anyway.”

  Taryn nodded miserably. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching him pack, she felt that he might be right. First the snake, now the alligator. Someone clearly didn’t want her there.

  “You may be right,” she sighed in resignation. “Maybe I just can’t hack it here. Even if it wasn't a person who caused all of this, maybe it was just a sign that I am not supposed to be here.”

  “Oh, it was a person all right,” he huffed. “Need I remind you who suddenly came to your rescue?”

  “David? Oh please. He likes going for night drives. He told me.”

  “Humph,” Matt grumbled.

  “I get a good feeling from him. I don’t think he’d hurt me,” she insisted stubbornly.

  Matt ignored her and continued packing.

  Taryn was conflicted. She was still scared out of her mind about what had happened and the idea of something worse was terrifying…but she didn’t like the idea of someone running her off.

  “The Universe really might be trying to tell you something,” Matt declared. “You should listen to these things. I do.”

  Taryn nodded. She believed in signs.

  “Yeah, maybe I’ll go home with you. I’m going to turn off the computer and stuff. When you leaving?”

  “About an hour,” he answered.

  Of course, she’d have to change her airline ticket to fly from Florida and explain to Ellen why she was leaving and hope she didn’t lose her job…but it probably was for the best.

  Her memory card was still in the drive. She’d forgotten the pictures she’d taken at the hotel the last time she was there and that she’d started uploading them. They were finished by now, of course, and the folder was highlighted.

  Taryn started to shut everything down but, at the last second, decided to flip through her last shots of the Jekyll Island Club Hotel. “Eh, why the hell not?” she muttered.

  She was glad she did.

  She’d started taking the pictures at sunset. By the time she’d finished it had been dark. The first few shots showed the hotel lit up by the pinks, reds, and oranges of dusk. The hotel shimmered in the late afternoon sky, the colors dying the white-washed walls a rainbow. The hotel in those pictures appeared exactly as it was today, perfectly rebuilt after the fire.

  And then there were the ones taken after dark.

  The flames blazed in all their glory, reaching high into the heavens and licking at the stars and full moon. Taryn could almost feel the heat even now. The fire raged white in some areas, its power and fury undeniable even one hundred years later. The pressure caused the windows to shatter on the top floor and a spray of glass flew through the air, like silver droplets of rain falling to the ground. Smoke billowed from every direction, so black in some places she could barely make it out against the dark sky and pearly white in others.

  It was the hotel guests, however, that had her trembling.

  Their cries were silent through the virtual images, but she could still hear them in her mind–the screams, the cries, the moans, the whimpers... Their anguish was evident as they poured from the windows and doors, running from the porch and through the lawn. The women, with their evening dresses ripped and covered in black soot, clinging to them to keep from falling. Their hair tumbling from diamond combs and pins, tangled curls matted in the wind as they ran. Makeup streaked across tear-stained faces.

  The men with torn dinner jackets, stumbling in confusion through the grass, eyes wild. Some carrying women or dragging them by their waists as their arms outstretched towards the inferno, reaching for someone who might still be inside.

  Taryn felt fat teardrops fall from her eyes as she realized that flames clung to some of the partygoers and climbed their pant legs and tops, spreading through their hair. These people, confused and stunned, continued to race through the darkness, thinking they could outrun the blazes that clung to them.

  The worst of it, though, were the ones who weren’t moving. What was now the croquet court was littered with bodies, dozens of bodies that lay motionless.

  It was a sea of devastation. Annihilation.

  Matt wasn’t happy to leave her behind.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized again after he’d loaded his suitcase in the trunk. “I know I’m meant to be here and I need to finish this.”

  “You have to start learning to think about yourself, Taryn,” he’d complained. “These people have been dead for a long time. They’re not your concern. They’re especially not your concern when your life and health begin suffering.”

  Taryn was stubborn, however. “I don’t think I’d be seeing these things if I wasn’t meant to. I’m seeing them for a reason and I have to know the rest of the story. It’s for me, too.”

  Matt nodded then and kissed her goodbye.

  Once he was gone Taryn felt a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She was alone again and it hurt. In spite of the fact that she’d gotten irritated with Matt more than once, she enjoyed his presence and missed him when he was gone. She normally didn’t mind being alone. Taryn liked her own company, in general, but there were times when it really hit her that there wasn’t a soul in the world who truly cared about her other than Matt.

  Sometimes that hurt.

  What would she do if something happened to him? He complained that she didn’t need him, but that wasn’t true at all.

  Still, she didn’t have time to stand around and depress herself. She was leaving for New Hampshire the next morning and wanted to get as much done before she left as she could.

  Taryn wasn’t particularly in the mood for Ivy House and her moods that day so she headed back to Adena. She hadn’t returned since seeing William in the window.

  There were people milling around taking pictures when she arrived so Taryn waited in the golf cart before setting up. The onlookers stood in front of it, arms around each other, posing for pictures. Taryn felt uncomfortable for the poor house who loomed behind them in sad disrepair. She wondered if houses embarrassed.

  Once they’d all moved on she got out and started setting up. The sky was overcast and she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stay out. It liked to rain around 3:00 pm every day, and since it was already after two she figured she could get in at least a good forty-five minutes before the skies opened.

  As the clouds rolled in overhead Taryn painted furiously, filling in the details for the roof that had been giving her trouble. The Adena Cottage on her canvas was much statelier than the one that rose up before her. She was proud of her work.

  “Don’t worry old girl,” she said to the house as the first boom of thunder rolled in. “They’ll have you fixed up good as new soon!”

  When the tiny drops began falling Taryn put her paintbrush down and wrapped the canvas in its waterproof case. These she secured in a pl
astic tub with lid and stowed in her golf cart.

  The rain was really coming down by the time she had it loaded up and as she sprinted back across the lawn to her easel she squealed from the cold drops that slid down her warm back.

  It only took a minute to fold up her easel and stool and wrap up her brushes. When she began her mad dash back to the golf cart, however, the sounds of laughter behind her made her pause.

  Expecting to see another tour group out braving the rain, Taryn turned with a companionable smile ready on her face. They were, after all, kindred spirits in the wetness.

  There wasn’t anyone there.

  Shrugging, she ran on across the wet grass and finished loading everything up. As she tied the last plastic tub in place, the laughter came again. It was undoubtedly female, the soft echo flirty and friendly as it spilled out over the grounds.

  The laughter was coming from within the house.

  More curious than spooked, Taryn watched the cottage in fascination. There were no physical signs the house had come to life; it was still in poor condition–looking even worse thanks to the rain pouring down on it and the gray clouds that hovered above.

  With her hair plastered to her head and water squishing between the toes in her sandals with each step she took, Taryn plodded across the lawn towards the house. The laughter came again then, sweet and delicate. A male voice followed it, low and pleasant.

  The music started when she was but five feet from the porch. A rolling melody pounded out on the ivory keys of a piano, the sound swelling through the once-cavernous room and making its way out the cracked windows to where Taryn stood. The tune was an old one and not something she recognized, but it was fast-paced and lighthearted. Soon, voices joined in and she could almost make out the words as the invisible partygoers sang along, laughing and clapping their hands in time to the music.