But she still wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Let me see that again,” Matt demanded, moving in to look at Taryn’s computer screen.
“See?” she pointed at the top left-hand corner. “I missed it the first few times myself. But it’s obvious now. Can’t you see his face?”
Matt pursed his lips and studied the image. “Yeah, I see it. Definitely a man.”
“And look…” Taryn brought up a copy of the image taken in front of Adena Cottage, the one containing Rachel, William, Georgiana, and her father. Taryn had taken a picture of the image while thumbing through the book in Ellen’s office. “It’s definitely him. It’s William.”
“I see it,” Matt agreed. “And it does look like William. You’re right about the house, too. It was attractive before it started falling apart.”
In spite of their individual feelings towards the older homes, they both took a moment to sit back and admire the beauty of the once-grand vacation cottage. In the picture Taryn took of the back of the house, it was perfectly intact. “Yeah. It did look good,” she said.
“So what do you think this means?” Matt asked, continuing to study the image, zooming in on the other windows to see if anything else stood out.
Taryn was ready with an answer. She’d been working on it for the past hour. “I think it means that William was having an affair with Georgiana. It explains why he didn’t have a solid alibi for that night. Or it explains why he killed his wife in the first place. It was her money and if he divorced her he wouldn’t get the cash. He tried to make it look like an accident.”
“And then, once an acceptable amount of time went by, he could marry the other woman?” Matt ventured.
“Yes! Or else he was sleeping with her at the time of the fire and it really was an accident,” Taryn mused. “But the fact that he’s upstairs in what has to be a bedroom and kind of lurking around, see that weird look on his face, means something.”
Matt nodded his head and considered this.
“And why else would he supposedly return to her grave every night put a candle on it?” Taryn asked with triumph.
“Love.”
“Guilt!”
Both answered in unison and then laughed at one another.
“Well,” Matt remarked drily. “It’s easy to see who the cynic is between us.”
“You’ve always been a romantic, dear,” Taryn said fondly, patting him on the leg.
“I don’t want to be a fly in this ointment, but you’re assuming that was Georgiana’s room. What if it were her father’s? What if in this picture he’d been called up to talk to him?”
Matt’s question was reasonable enough but Taryn didn’t think that was it. To her, it was obvious that Rachel’s ghost had sent her the image to prove that her late husband had been fooling around with another woman. After all, it had to be Rachel who was sending her the messages and haunting her.
Taryn was sure of that.
Chapter 15
“I promise you’ll like the beach,” Taryn coaxed Matt, all but dragging him up the steep rise of sand. “This one is different.”
“I live very close to the beach at home,” he complained but continue to follow, lugging the beach bag that contained their drinks, blankets, and sunscreen.
“This is different,” she promised. “You live near Daytona Beach. Since you don’t really drink, never go to clubs, don’t like loud noises, and think driving a car or four-wheeler on the sand is profane you’ve never fully appreciated the area you live in. You’ll like this.”
Matt may have grumbled, but he’d go along with just about anything Taryn wanted and she often used this to her advantage. She knew what Matt would like, and what he wouldn’t, and this was something he needed to see.
When they crested the rise and stood looking out over the water, Taryn could feel Matt’s exhale, a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he relented with a grin. “You were right.”
“I knew you’d see it that way. Now come on,” she cried, running towards the water and leaving a spray of sand in her wake.
“Of course you can run. You’re not carrying anything,” he complained, but his mood was lifted.
Lately it seemed like when they were together they had little fun. Their time was mostly spent talking about work (his or hers) or him attempting to solve the many problems that plagued Taryn since her abilities deepened. The enjoyment of each other’s company they’d experienced as children and young adults often felt pushed to the wayside, ignored in favor of “real world” life and issues. For the first time in a long while they were able to relax, play in the sand, chase each other around, and act like they were a real couple.
While Matt floated on his back, enjoying his weightlessness in the salt water and the expanse of blue sky above him, Taryn walked along the shoreline, picking up shells and sand dollars. Occasionally they’d meet back on their blanket and apply liberal amounts of sunscreen to one another, sharing drinks and nibbling on fruit. They body surfed on the gentle waves together, Taryn always careful not to get too far out and Matt keeping his eye on her at all times, knowing she wasn’t a strong swimmer.
When the sun was high in the sky they returned to their blanket to rest, the back of Taryn’s head resting on his flat stomach so that she could watch the clouds. He brushed back her wet hair from her face with one hand and played with her fingers with the other. Taryn felt content and safe in a way that she rarely did when surrounded by people. The beach was quiet and empty. There wasn’t a single person in sight.
“It’s funny that the water bothers you sometimes, considering that you’re a water sign,” Matt mused at last.
“What? I like the water,” Taryn insisted. “I think it’s peaceful.”
“You like looking at it,” he corrected. “You don’t like being out on a boat, you definitely don’t like the big choppy waves when it storms, and you’re not big on swimming. You just like to kind of bob around in it.”
Well, that was true enough.
“Maybe I drowned in a past life,” she suggested. “Or something.”
“Have you ever considered the fact that you’re more drawn to fire than you are to water?”
Taryn turned on her side to face him. From that angle she thought he looked like a little kid again. It was both comforting and unnerving. “You think?”
“Sure,” he nodded. “When Nana used to burn her trash you’d always stand there and stare at the fire. I remember coming out of the house once with more boxes, and you were just standing there, not five feet away from the monstrous flames, and your hair was flying back out of your face. You were staring at it, kind of like ‘bring it on!’ You looked like the Firestarter or something. When I got up next to you the heat was so awful I had to take a few steps back. I don’t know how you stood it; you hadn’t even broken a sweat.”
“I don’t remember that,” Taryn frowned. Although, to be fair, her grandmother had burned her garbage a lot. Back then nobody cared as much. And Matt was always around offering to help out.
“And any time we’ve stayed someplace with a fireplace you always fall asleep in front of it, watching the logs,” he continued. “You have trouble sleeping alone and hate the dark but start a fire and you’re out like a baby.”
“Yeah, that’s true enough.”
“So maybe water is your birth sign but fire is your life sign. Or something,” he offered. “I don’t know a lot about those things.”
“You think that’s why I am so drawn to what happened at the hotel?” Taryn asked.
“Maybe. Or maybe that’s why it’s so drawn to you.”
Taryn would have to think about that some more.
“Hey, I have to get back and change and then run over to the hotel for a few minutes. You want to have a quickie here on the beach?” Taryn wagged her eyebrows up and down suggestively and traced a line over his chest with her finger.
The look of horror that flashed across Matt’s face had her laughing. “Here? In public?”
“Yes Matt, in front of all these people…” She gestured to the expanse of empty sand.
“I don’t know…all that sand everywhere…”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t ask,” she warned him, rising to her feet. “I wanted to have sex, but you didn’t…”
“Hey now, that’s not fair,” he complained. “You knew I’d say no.”
They were still laughing and teasing one another after they’d packed up their bag and were walking through the woods back to her car.
Behind them, someone stood over the indentions they’d left in the sand. Fury permeated and bounced off them, creating waves of anger that rolled out in all directions. Overhead a seagull squawked in fear and decided against landing on that particular stretch of beach. The figure seethed and simmered, resentment filling them. And then they were gone.
“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 doo
r 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.
Jekyll Island: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 5) Page 14