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

by Rebecca Patrick-Howard

  January 24, 1904

  Tonight William learned the horrible truth about me. Though we haven’t been married for even a month yet, and only just arrived home to New York from our trip abroad, I fear that he may have regrets.

  My terrible fear of the dark is unbearable. When William darkened our bedroom before I was ready I screamed in terror, crying into my pillow and thrashing about until he was forced to pick me up and carry me from the room like a child. He sent for the doctor immediately and I was administered a tonic that mercifully sent me into a deep sleep.

  I am ashamed to face my beloved husband this morning, ashamed to tell him the awful truth–that I am nothing more than a frightened child when it’s dark and I am unable to see.

  January 27, 1904

  I am quite weary, having been unable to sleep for three nights. I’ve complained of headaches and other ailments when darkness falls and William has allowed me to stay up in our parlor, reading quietly with the fire going. He claims he is lonely for me at night and I miss him. I just cannot possibly return to that horrible room with all its darkness. The fire is not enough in there. I must have every corner illuminated. I don’t know how to tell him this. He has been simply wonderful, ensuring that Cook brings me broths and pillows for my back and head. I must sleep eventually, however. I cannot stay awake forever.

  January 28, 1904

  I slept for some time this mid-afternoon. It is not so terrible in our bedroom when it is daylight outside. As the sun pours in and lights up my bed and the floors I find myself sinking into a wonderful sleep, free from dreams. Then the sky darkens and I am frightened again and wake up. I hurry down the stairs to the parlor where I am able to sit in a cheerful setting, free from shadows.

  I am so very weary. I will have to face our bed again soon. William is afraid he has done something wrong. If only I had someone to talk to, but I haven’t yet made any social acquaintances here in the city.

  February 18, 1904

  At last I broke down in tears and told William about my horrible secret. He was aghast at my story, of how as a child my nanny would lock me in my tiny wardrobe for hours, hardened to my cries and pleas. He held me in his arms and rocked me back and forth as a child as I admitted with shame the water that had passed from me in fear and I’d soiled myself. How I’d had to clean it up myself with the hem of my nightgown.

  “Did your father not move to save you from this travesty of injustice?” he bellowed, his face red with anger.

  I told him of how I’d try to talk to Father, but he’d been busy. My mother had passed away when I was a young child. There was nobody to save me, nobody to unlock the door and let me out. I’d often spend entire nights locked in the tiny room, with the shadows and monsters clawing at me and whispering in my ears. I’d once fainted from the fear and had woken up to Nanny throwing water in my face, screaming at me.

  He now understands why I fear the darkness.

  “Good God woman,” he cried. “I swear on my life I will never let you see another dark room as long as I live.”

  That night he brought dozens of candles and oil lamps to our room. He placed them in all the corners and lit them, one by one. He left instructions with my maid to ensure they never went out, not until daylight broke, and the room was once again lit by the sun.

  I slept soundly then, safer than I’ve ever felt.

  April 10, 1906

  William and I have been invited to a beautiful club and hotel on the sea. We leave soon and I couldn’t be more excited. My maid is a flurry with activity, packing our trunks and suitcases and running around like a mad woman, gathering the things we will need.

  William ensured that I would have all my candles and lanterns and that he, himself, would see to their activity.

  I’d hoped that I would be able to share the happy news of a child by now, but it seems that the news is not mine to give. Last night I spoke to William about Lydia, about inviting her into our home. He thought it was a grand idea and said he’d speak to her caregivers soon. Oh! To hear little feet in our rooms. I have been incredibly lonely, although William does his best to entertain me. We went on a picnic in the park on the first warm day and then on a ride through the woods on our horses. I miss my father with dreadful sadness, but his death was not a shock. He’d been careless for years and I’d often warned him about his expeditions. William feels terrible about the accident. He and Father had become like father and son, especially since William’s own family has perished.

  September 18, 1906

  Our journey to the seaside was magical. William had a wonderful time hunting with the other men and socializing in the evenings. Everything about the Jekyll Island Club was magnificent, from the parties and glorious displays of food to the beautiful beaches and charming ladies. I made several friends, including Georgiana Lewis whose father owns a stately cottage there. Georgiana is the only other person in the entire world who knows my secret and she even brought me over one of her own lanterns, an elegant piece that let out copious amounts of light. Georgiana’s father welcomed William as well and he spent many evenings there, socializing with the men while the other ladies and I played games and gossiped.

  I so want to return.

  June 6, 1907

  We had hoped to return to Jekyll Island this season but I’ve had a struggle, and it has delayed our journey. I did conceive a child in the springtime but carried him for only three months. We’ve suffered a terrible loss and I’ve been overcome with melancholia and have taken to my bed for more than a month. In sickness, my dreadful fear has worsened. The nightmares are even more awful than normal and I find that I am in need of more lights. It is difficult for William to sleep in the bed with me, with the room so bright. He has taken to lying with me until I drift off to sleep and then he leaves for the guest bedroom. I feel as though my fears and troubles have driven my own husband away and for this I am ashamed.

  I do hope to get better soon. We had planned on Lydia coming to visit us in the autumn and the idea of her sunshine and light is what keeps me hopeful.

  December 1, 1907

  I am glad to see a new year approaching. My ailments have worsened, and we were not able to host little Lydia in the fall. Although I am able to move out of bed, it is difficult for me to dress and see to my toilet. My maid must do far more than she should and, of course, William helps as well. The melancholia will not lift and I fear it will pull me under. The horrible, horrible dreams will not leave me. I often wake up, even with the room illuminated, clawing at the air and crying out to be saved.

  We did receive an invitation to Jekyll Island. Georgiana has invited us to a New Year’s Eve ball there. I do not feel well enough to travel so far by train but am aching to see her and I know William wants to go. I have decided to make the journey at whatever cost. My husband deserves it and it will be nice to be around friendly faces again. Perhaps the sea air and scenery is just what I need.

  December 25, 1907

  We’ve been on the island for five days. Today is Christmas Day and it’s been a wonderful day, full of joy and friends and music. My spirits are lifted, and I can feel myself starting to feel normal again. I think this island is saving me.

  We did have a moment of trouble when we first arrived because even with Georgiana’s lantern and my candles the room was terribly dark. The lantern went out in the darkness before dawn and we couldn’t ascertain why. I woke up in fear again, screaming, and the doctor had to be summoned. William ensured that we were moved to a brighter room, however, and there hasn’t been any trouble since.

  I am determined to be happy and content on this trip and to ensure that my husband is as well. Perhaps this is the time we shall conceive again, God willing.

  December 27, 1907

  In only two weeks we will be home again. I do so wish we could remain here. I am ever so much happier here on the island than I am in New York. I do believe I have even put on some extra weight, although I can’t get my hopes up and think it might be due to a ch
ild. I couldn’t bear to face that disappointment again.

  The only thing that has mired this visit has been Georgiana. I’d hoped to spend more time with her and visit like we did on our last trip. She’d been ill or busy, however, and has had little time for me. I imagine I am not the most interesting of guests here at the Club but she was so lovely to us on our last visit. I am trying not to take it personally and let it hurt my feelings.

  She was so gracious when she brought the lantern to me, although it hasn’t worked as well as I’d hoped. William had to visit the mainland and purchase more candles for the room. I know it must have frustrated him since he spend almost an entire day getting there, finding them, and returning but he didn’t once complain.

  Still, the New Years’s ball is in just a few nights and I am near giddy with the excitement. The Clubhouse is all aflutter with activity and everything looks so festive. This has, by far, been the best Christmas I have ever seen.

  Rachel hadn’t written any other entries. Taryn looked up and closed her eyes, feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach. As someone with a fear of the dark herself, she felt Rachel’s pain. What a terrible thing to suffer through as a child. These days Rachel might have benefited from a good counselor, or at least some good sleeping or anxiety pills. Who knew what they were giving her back then, what “tonic”, to knock her out?

  Of course, Rachel had no idea that her last entry would, in fact, be the last. She’d died just a few days later.

  Although Rachel’s handwriting stopped, the diary itself did not. There was more.

  Taryn read on with curiosity.

  May 26, 1908

  William was hanged today. I did not go, although many others did. I couldn’t bear to see his body be carried away. It is difficult to believe he’s gone. A light has gone out in this world, and it will never be the same again. There will never be another man such as he.

  I am writing this now before I forget everything that happened. I swore to William on my soul that I wouldn’t let anyone see Rachel’s diary. She’d been dreadfully ashamed of her illness and phobias and he’d sworn to protect her. He was also protecting his daughter, little Lydia. Last night when I made my last visit to the jail he gave the diary to me and I promised to protect it and keep it a secret, along with the other events that have transpired.

  It was the very least I could do, considering it is my fault that Rachel died.

  There is more that I want to share. William has suffered a great injustice and has done it silently, to protect those he loves.

  He was not in the hotel when the fire began. I know this because he was with me.

  It is no secret that I was very fond of him. I grew to be quite fond of Rachel, but William is the one I loved and will always love. I’ve carried the feeling for more than a year, feeling the fire inside grow stronger and stronger with each passing day. To simply see him on the lawn, to brush against him in a room, to hear his laughter echoing through the walls…my body burned at the very thought of him. It was almost more than I could take.

  In another life I would’ve been his wife. I should have been his wife. The injustice of it makes me want to sob.

  Rachel, though a sweeter soul never lived, was my rival in every sense. Her pliancy and vulnerability angered me at times. I often found myself wanting to lash out at her. I envisioned myself pulling her hair, ripping her dresses to shreds, even throwing her into the icy waters. The thought of her with my beloved was more than I could bear.

  And yet…she never did a moment of harm to me. I am a terrible, dreadful person.

  I feigned illness at the ball and retired early, much like his wife. I then sent for William under the pretense of sending Rachel another lantern. After all, the one I’d intentionally given her was not working well. I knew this when I sent it to her, thinking that its failure would bring him back to me, if only for one more visit. I did not know he’d find other means of bringing lightness to her.

  We were alone in the house when he entered my rooms. I know it was improper, but I’d waited so long to tell him how I felt. I hoped he would return the feelings. I thought he would. I thought I’d seen signs from him, signs that he felt the same way. Surely the way he smiled at mem, touched me in passing, called my name–surely those were indications that he harbored desire for me as well?

  I was wrong.

  William, though ever loving and considerate, did not return my advances.

  “I’m sorry Georgie,” he said sadly. “I love you dearly, but my wife is my world. I won’t betray her trust. I lost one love and I won’t do it again.”

  I was ashamed. Not only had I acted in a most appalling and indecent manner, I was deeply embarrassed at being rejected. I handed him my lantern then, hiding my tears, and asked him to take it to her. My hand slipped, however, and it broke, sending oil all over his pants. Horrified, the two of us went downstairs together to find something in which to clean them.

  We hadn’t heard Papa and his friends enter the house. They were in the parlor then, he and his bankers, and talking. I knew that our country was facing a crisis but to hear them speak of it petrified me. Their voices were raised and they were shaking in anger.

  “Something has to be done!” Papa shouted. “We must protect ourselves.”

  As William and I remained hidden in the doorway, we listened to them plot and plan, ideas that would be detrimental to many and beneficial to only a few. I was saddened by the selfishness and could see that William was as well.

  The oil on William’s trousers must have been thick because someone noticed the scent then. They discovered us and were horribly angry. They accused William of spying and threatened him repeatedly. He swore he would talk of nothing and made to leave.

  That was when we saw the fire at the hotel.

  William did try to get inside and save his wife, but it was too late. The hotel was a towering inferno. By the time we arrived the grass was littered with bodies, our very friends whom we had just seen hours earlier.

  I fear that it was the very lantern I gave her that started the fire in Rachel’s room. I will forever feel responsible for her tragic death, and for what transpired to William, although for a brief moment I felt a small spark of elation–if she were to die that would leave him to me at last!

  I had only to look at William’s face to know that he would never truly love again, not even me.

  Another meeting was held, this time with William in attendance. He had heard too much, he knew too much. “If you speak of this then we will find your daughter and she will pay, not you.”

  “I’m innocent of the fire,” William exclaimed. “I didn’t kill my wife! If I don’t defend myself I’ll hang. At least let me say I was here. I don’t have to talk about what was said.”

  “Too risky,” another gentleman, whose name I don’t wish to speak of, interjected. “We can’t take that chance.”

  “Keep quiet about our meeting and we shall see that your daughter and her family are forever taken care of,” Papa promised.

  I was sickened.

  William went to the gallows protecting his family.

  I will never, ever forgive my father.

  I will never, ever forgive myself.

  Taryn’s eyes widened as she sat back against her pillow, the diary clutched to her chest. He hadn’t started the fire. He hadn’t cheated on his wife. William Hawkins had done nothing wrong, nothing.

  The injustice of it made Taryn want to scream.

  And the secret meeting that came later? They must have ironed out some of the details because the Federal Reserve wasn’t a bad thing. Had Georgiana talked them into making changes for the good of the whole? Or had their guilt about what happened to William had an effect on them?

  One thing was for sure: William and Rachel Hawkins were innocent in the whole mess.

  They’d both paid with their lives for things that other people had done to them.

  Chapter 24

  The smoke filled the room and squeez
ed Taryn’s throat.

  She coughed into her pillow and then turned over in her sleep, trying to get away from the putrid stench. It followed her, however, and slid into her lungs and up her nose, sending her into another coughing fit that had her almost waking up. In her sleep, she could feel the heat and kicked off her blankets when her feet grew uncomfortably warm. The dark room in her dream was closing in on her again, the walls slowly crushing her as she reached out and tried to push them back.

  Taryn moaned and cried out in fear of the tiny dark space but then the smoke came again and her cries were drowned out by another coughing fit.

  Her feet and legs were burning and now the heat was rising to her face. In a twilight daze, Taryn swiped at her shoulders and forehead and tried to push the rest of the covers off. What’s wrong with the air, she thought groggily, still lost in her dream and unable to focus. When did it start getting so hot in here?

  Something crashed then, the sound of glass breaking into tiny little pieces. Taryn shot up fully alert now, her ears peeled for the sounds of an intruder.

  She was met by a wall of dirty gray, with just the faint hint of orange behind it.

  As the smoke pressed into her, finding its way inside, Taryn gagged. “Oh my God,” she cried, her eyes filling with water, blinding her. “Oh my God!”