Jekyll Island: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 5) (13 page)

She
was nervous when Ellen called her to her office that next morning. One of the things Taryn liked best about her job was that she didn’t have to deal with the people who hired her very often. Most would stop in from time to time to check on her work and say hello but, for the most part, they left her alone. Taryn preferred to work by herself and didn’t like someone hanging over her shoulder. Getting called in for a meeting was a bit like getting called to the principal’s office.

Steve was standing at the valet stand when she walked up the steps. “Hey,” she whispered, sidling up to him. “Have you seen the boss lady today?”

“For a few minutes about an hour ago,” he whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”

“Because I’ve got a meeting with her and I don’t want to be blindsided by something bad,” Taryn kept her voice low and her head close to his. “Did she seem like she was in a bad mood?”

“Nah,” he winked. “I think you’re good. Matter of fact, I heard her bragging on your landscape of Adena to someone this morning.”

“Awesome.” Taryn gave him the thumbs up and went on inside.

Ellen was waiting for her in her perfectly cool and organized office when Taryn entered. After motioning her to sit Ellen pulled out a large leather-bound ledger from a shelf behind her desk and placed it in front of Taryn. “I know you’re doing a splendid job with recreating the cottages, but I did find something a few days ago I thought might help,” she began.

Taryn opened the heavy cover with care and peered inside. It was a scrapbook of sorts, full of photos, illustrations, old maps, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes. She carefully flipped through the pages, taking in the contents with interest while attempting to keep her ears open to what Ellen was saying to her.

“This is one of the many scrapbooks once kept here at the Clubhouse over the years. Unfortunately, this is one of only two that survived the great fire. The other is much more fragile and I’m afraid I can’t bring it out. I thought you might be able to garner some inspiration from it,” Ellen continued formally.

It was, indeed, fascinating. In enthrallment, Taryn read in detail a dinner menu that included roast beef, duck, corn soufflé, and dozens of other items that all made her tummy rumble. When she looked at the date at the top, she was startled to realize it was dated December 31
st
, the night of the fire.

“This is great, thank you,” Taryn said. “May I sit here and go through it?”

“By all means,” Ellen replied, sweeping her arms out in front of her. “Spend as much time as you need. Only three photographs of Adena Cottage and Ivy House exist, and two are of the interiors. Still, sometimes getting a feel for the environment as a whole can help you understand the specific parts, don’t you agree?”

Taryn nodded; she
did
agree. That’s why she took her photographs and why Miss Dixie was special to her even before she’d allowed her to see the past.

“Are you experiencing any…
trouble
?” Ellen lowered her voice and her cheeks reddened somewhat–the first time Taryn had seen her come close to losing her near perfect composure.

Taryn looked up and was surprised to see soft pink spots appear on her current boss’s cheeks.

“N-no,” Taryn replied. “I don’t think so.”

“The cottages are tolerable then?” Ellen prodded. Her tone was gentle, yet still demanding. Taryn felt like she was being interviewed for an important position by Mrs. Claus.

“Well, yes, they’re fine. They’re–“ Taryn stopped then, at last understanding to what Ellen was alluding. “Oh, I see. Well, it has taken some time to adjust to Ivy House but I believe we’ve reached an understanding.”

Ellen nodded and pursed her thin lips. “I am going to say this and I don’t want you to be offended.”

“Okay,” Taryn promised. “I’ll do my best.”

“You weren’t our first choice to come and paint our beautiful buildings,” Ellen stated, raising her chin up a bit in near-defiance.

Despite what Taryn had promised, she felt the beginning of spikes and, to her shame, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Wha–“

“What I mean is,” Ellen continued, interrupting her, “that we had hired someone else first. They were here for several weeks doing what we thought was their job. As it so happened, several days went by without anyone seeing the young man at either one of the cottages. When those few days became a week I sent my assistant to check on him. He’d apparently holed up in his room here at the hotel and refused to leave, even to step out into the corridor. He claimed that the ‘ghosts’ had followed him from the cottages, Adena specifically which is interesting since it’s not the one that’s haunted, and were holding him prisoner. He’d not eaten a thing and was visibly weak with a terrible pallor. We had to call the doctor. It was an ugly affair.” Ellen trembled at the memory and shook her head in regret.

“Oh,” Taryn replied, at a loss for words. “I’m sorry.” That was quite a bit to process, although she
had
wanted to jump in there and inform Ellen that Adena had more going on with it than she may have thought.

“So you see, I had concerns when it came to hiring anyone else. It was my assistant who discovered you online,” Ellen explained. “Amy has read about your…adventures, shall we say?”

Taryn nodded without expression.

“We hoped that with both of your backgrounds at play that working in such an environment would not prove to be an issue for you,” Ellen finished. There was quiet steel in her voice and no warmth in her eyes as she gazed at Taryn.

“It’s fine,” Taryn assured her, attempting to keep her face impassive. “I don’t scare easily.”

(Eh, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. At least, so far, the ghosts had mostly liked her. None had tried to hold her prisoner, at any rate.)

Ellen nodded, satisfied. “You see, my dear, I am a practical woman. I hold several degrees and have worked in some capacity with this facility for thirty years. It’s my
home
as much as my job. I’m educated and good at what I do, as well as any man. I know we have spirits, however. I know there is something special about this island, something that I don’t think exists anywhere else in the world. I do not think a belief in these things and an educated mind have to be contradictory.”

“Neither do I,” Taryn said.

“I also believe that many people do not treat these matters with the gravity they deserve. And they end up suffering for it,” Ellen added. “I have a feeling about you. You’re no fool, my dear. I’ve watched you. I have a touch of this, scent, myself. You’re what we needed here.”

Taryn slumped back in her leather chair and pulled the scrapbook closer to her. “Ellen, am I here for a different reason? I mean, besides the paintings?”

Ellen stood and walked towards the door. “I don’t know,” she said, stopping halfway to the door. “Are you? I have another appointment right now. Please, take all the time you need and then just leave the book on my desk when you’re finished.”

Now confounded with muddled thoughts, Taryn returned to the book. She spent the next half hour leafing through the thick pages, stopping to study the images and read bits and pieces that caught her interest. 

The interior picture of Adena Cottage showed a jovial robust man standing in what looked like a parlor. To his left was a tall, good-looking blond man who appeared to be in his forties. He wore a suit, his white dress shirt radiant in the lamp light.

The younger man’s arm was draped around a rather drab looking, much younger woman. Her weak smile appeared forced, and she slumped into the young man as though he was holding her up. Her tiny frame was almost childlike. With her flat chest, skinny arms, and tiny hands her evening dress made her look like she was playing dress-up in her mother’s clothing.

To the right of the older gentleman was a beautiful blond, her face full of gaiety and her blond hair piled atop her head in ringlets. Her mouth was open in a laugh and the jewels on her fingers and at her neck and ears sparkled. She was the only one not looking at the camera. Instead, she was gazing at the young man. Taryn recognized that look. She’d often looked at Andrew the same way–like she wanted to crawl under his skin.

The caption read: Rachel Hawkins, William Hawkins, Lowell McGovern, & Georgiana McGovern. Adena Cottage.

“Huh,” Taryn said out loud. “Well, that’s interesting. Miss Rachel wasn’t much of a looker. He must have married her for some reason, though. And looks like Georgiana had the hots for him. Wonder how he felt about
that
…”

The last two pages of the scrapbook were full of newspaper clippings. Taryn glossed over them, as most concerned financial information about the members of the Club. On the last page, however, something caught her eye and made her take another look. The headline read “Local Ghost Makes New Appearance.” Fascinated, Taryn pored over the article (something that looked like it might have come from a gossip section) and read aloud:

“Mary-the-Wanderer appeared to several members of a hunting party last weekend on Jekyll Island. Mary, who has been identified on both Jekyll and St. Simon’s, was walking along the sand in the moonlight when members of the party saw her from a distance. She wore her traditional white evening gown and, as one spectator reported, appeared to be ‘floating in the air.’”

Taryn stopped and grinned. She wondered if such a thing would be reported as “news” these days.

“The members of the party were startled at first but carried on, assuming she meant no harm to come to them. ‘It startled me but I wasn’t particularly affronted,’ stated another member of the party. ‘A spirit isn’t meant to hurt a human soul. They’re just lost and wandering.’ Will this be the last sighting of Mary on the islands?”

Taryn finished reading and put the book down but then immediately snatched it up again. Someone had taken the time to sketch the image of “Mary the Wanderer” at the bottom. Although it was only a sketch, and the young woman with the long, flowing hair and big dark eyes was at least fifty years younger in the newspaper, Taryn instantly recognized her as the old woman she’d met on Driftwood Beach.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she swore. “Mary’s still out there and has upgraded herself from a long, flowing gown to a fanny pack and sandals.”

Taryn knew, and not for the first time, that she would never cease being shocked by the things she saw.

“I was thinking I’d try to drive up this weekend,” Matt said.

Taryn had been working all morning, trying to get in as much outside work as she could before the heat became too oppressive. She’d been feeling bad for the past two days, like every joint in her body was being hammered by a dull object over and over again. Her usual treatments offered little relief. The heat made it worse, but she didn’t want to get too far behind and tried to bear it, although there was no grinning involved.

“That would be nice,” she replied absently, as she dipped her brush into the paint again and studied her canvas. The windows were giving her problems today. She didn’t know why. Ivy House was gorgeous in the morning light. Maybe she just wasn’t feeling it.

“Do you not want me to come?” Matt asked quietly.

“Hmmm?” It was the color, she decided at last. The color was making her shading off. She’d mixed too much green in this time. Sighing, she laid her brush down and dropped to the ground.

“If you think I’m going to cramp your style or take up too much of your time I can come next week.” Taryn was taken aback at the soft sadness in Matt’s voice and felt promptly ashamed for not giving him her full attention.

“Oh Matt, it’s not that I don’t want you to come. I’m just having trouble with this cottage. I was distracted. Of
course
I want you to come up here,” she said, trying to put more enthusiasm in her voice.

“Are you sure? I’d really,
really
like to see you,” he replied, sounding hopeful.

“Yes, I’m sure. There’s a lot of sightseeing I haven’t done yet, and it will be nice to have some company,” she assured him.

“Or we could not go out at all and just stay in. There’s some sightseeing of my own I wouldn’t mind doing,” he teased her.

Taryn blushed, despite the fact that nobody could hear them. She didn’t know when Matt had learned the art of flirtation–it wasn’t in high school or even college–but it was fun
now
.

“Well, you should have plenty of time to take in some of the local stuff,” she said with a smile.

“I may have some good news to share with you as well...”

Taryn watched as the shadows over Ivy House slowly drew back, a testament to the sun rising higher in the sky. She’d lose her shade soon. Not only did her bones ache, she felt a heaviness on her shoulders, a great weight pushing her down. It wasn’t just the heat and fatigue she usually felt but something else. Taryn felt like she was pushing through the days, fighting against something she couldn’t see. Everything was taking more and more effort.

All of a sudden she realized Matt had been talking for several minutes and she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. “Uh huh,” she murmured, hoping her general, non-committal sound would not be mistaken for the elusiveness it was.

“Okay, well, I can talk to you about it more when I see you. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon and should be there by seven at the latest.”

“Do you want me to text or email you the directions?” she asked.

“Nope. I already have the address plugged into the GPS, the car is gassed up, and I’ve packed a weekend bag,” he sang.

Taryn bit her lip and shook her head. And if she’d said it wasn’t a good time? It wouldn’t have mattered. Matt had always had a sixth sense about what was going to happen when it came to the two of them.