Dark Hollow Road (Taryn's Camera Book 3) Read online

  Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Travis. Like most people probably did, she tried to envision him assaulting Cheyenne. Maybe peeling her jeans off while she kicked frantically at him, or perhaps laid unconscious on a hard floor. Her shirt lifted over her head, her bra ripped open revealing firm, teenage breasts. Had he smacked her? Banged her head on the floor? Did she vomit in the middle of the act, the liquid running into her dark hair and matting it? Had he held onto her while life faded from her eyes? To look at him now, an average-looking guy spreading butter on a biscuit, he looked young, incapable of killing someone. He kept his face down, staring at his food, and seemed oblivious to everyone else.

  Emma said he’d lost his job at the factory he worked at, that he was still living at his mother’s house, sleeping in the basement. His clothes were clean and fresh; his flannel shirt looked ironed. Someone took care of him. Someone ironed his clothes, washed them, and gave him money to eat lunch out at a restaurant. Somebody loved him.

  Taryn had met more than one killer in her life. Since Miss Dixie started doing her tricks it felt like Taryn drew them like flies. She shouldn’t be shocked anymore by the secrets people lived with. It felt like everyone had a double life these days.

  She didn’t think Travis had noticed her but after he flagged his server down (the same one who had been so attentive to her but had completely ignored him) he paused at her table as he was passing by. “I know who you are,” he growled through his teeth, barely looking down at her. “You don’t have to keep staring at me.”

  Embarrassed she’d been caught, she began to apologize in haste. “I’m sorry. I know it was rude. It’s just that-”

  “You just wanted to know what a killer looks like?” he snorted.

  Taryn did not think it prudent to point out that she’d met others who’d been accused of similar crimes, and those people had tried to turn their actions on her.

  “Innocent until proven guilty, right?” she asked faintly. Suddenly, the fire felt just a little too hot, her red sweater a little too snug. She was aware that the people around her had stopped eating and were staring at them.

  “Yeah, right. Well, you’re the psychic, right? Then you should know the truth. I didn’t kill nobody. I never saw Cheyenne after that party. I didn’t touch her, didn’t even talk to her except when she bummed a smoke off of me around the fire.”

  There was no pleading in his voice, just a matter of factness that was hard to rebuttal. He stood there in the middle of the restaurant, a young man in work boots and a thick coat, and stared down at the floor, unable to make eye contact. She could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves.

  “You mean she didn’t go back to your place after?”

  Travis shook his head. “Shit no. I know what they’re saying, what they say. And people gonna believe what they want to believe. Look, I don’t know where she went or who she went with, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t touch her,” he repeated, his face growing redder with anger.

  “Then what happened to her, Travis?” Taryn asked gently.

  “I don’t know. Isn’t that why they hauled your ass here? You figure it out!” And, with that, he marched away from the table, barely missing a server with a heavy tray of breakfast in his path.

  “I’m missing something, Matt, I know I am. I think I’m going to go back to the farmhouse.” Taryn paced back and forth in the living room, nervously chewing on her fingernails. It wasn’t even a bad habit of hers; she was just nervous and looking for something to do. The three Cokes she’d already had that morning couldn’t be helping matters.

  “You’ve been over there half a dozen times,” Matt reminded her. “Don’t you think your camera would’ve picked something up by now?”

  “I don’t know,” Taryn snapped. “How am I supposed to know how this works?”

  She immediately felt guilty for yelling at Matt and, in a rare scene of public emotions, sat down on the couch and burst into tears. God, she was such a girl sometimes. Matt, whose inner peace was solid to the core, patiently put down the epic fantasy novel he’d been reading for the fifth time and trudged over to her. His arm slid around her protectively and as he squeezed her shoulders she felt even worse. There she was, being mean to probably the only person in the world she cared about.

  “I’m sorry,” she blubbered, wishing she was the type of woman who looked pretty when she cried. “I don’t even know why I’m on edge.”

  “You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep,” Matt reminded her. “And you’re pushing yourself really hard on something you might just not be able to fix.”

  “I know you’re right,” she sighed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “But why would Cheyenne be contacting me, and I know it’s her, if I couldn’t do anything. I feel like the answers are right at my fingertips, and I’m just too dense to figure it out.”

  “You’re no dense,” Matt chided. “One of the things I love about you, and the main thing that drives me crazy about you, is that you have very good perception and can read people like a book. Honestly, if I had a mystery to solve you’d be the first person I’d come to because you’re so good at cutting through the bullshit. It’s no wonder the dead seek you out.”

  Taryn giggled a little, her mood lifting. “You said ‘bullshit.’ I think I’ve only heard you cuss twice in twenty years.”

  “Yeah, well, I save the foul language for special occasions. I think it shows lack of creativity unless it’s used wisely,” he grinned.

  Taryn, on the other hand, might have been creative when it came to her art but not in language. She cussed like a sailor–all words learned courtesy of her grandmother.

  “Their party is in a week. I wanted to have answers by then. We’re leaving a few weeks after that and it’s not a lot of time. I just feel so… involved,” she finished lamely.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Taryn turned around so that her feet were propped in Matt’s lap. He stretched out on the other end of the couch and, facing each other, they carried on as though she’d never had her little outburst. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “Maybe because we’re here, in the middle of it? Maybe because I can feel her a little bit. You know how I’ve always had an active imagination?”

  Matt nodded. When they were little she used to make him pretend that they both had magical unicorns. They’d gallop all over the neighborhood on their adventures until their legs were worn out. She had him so wrapped up in her imagination that he’d even get off his first and help her down since she was so short.

  “Yeah, well, it’s different this time. I don’t need the camera or my dreams or even her spirit. I can see her in my mind. She’s as real to me as you are. And maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me, I don’t know,” she shrugged with agitation. “But I feel like I’m supposed to be here.”

  “Well then, you are. If you feel it then you’re meant to be. It just means we’re going to have to start looking under other rocks. In the meantime,” a little gleam formed in Matt’s eyes as he tickled the bottom of her feet. “In the meantime we have an hour before you have to leave for class. How about I get under you?”

  “Why Matthew,” Taryn purred in an exaggerated southern drawl. “That’s downright lewd and vulgar of you.”

  “Yeah well, like I said. I save my foul language for special occasions.”

  Chapter 19

  Taryn and Emma squeezed into a booth at a small, greasy diner on Main Street. Emma promised her the breakfast was the best in town and she wouldn’t find better ice tea.

  “That’s okay,” Taryn waved her hand in the air. “I’m kind of off the stuff. I’ll take an apple juice.”

  Emma raised her eyebrows but didn’t press and Taryn didn’t volunteer her past experience with her once-favorite drink.

  “So, any news?” Taryn asked once they made their orders and settled back into the plastic seats.

  “I met with the guys last night. Nothing new,” Emma sighed. “I really
thought we would’ve been farther along at this point.”

  Taryn felt a stab of shame, knowing that several people had hoped her presence would bring some answers. So far, it hadn’t. “I’m still working my end,” she said, all the same. “I’m not giving up yet.”

  Emma smiled brightly and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Despite the fact there’d been snow flurries just a day or two before, now the sun was out and her car thermometer boasted a whopping sixty-six degrees. Welcome to the south.

  “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Travis did kill Cheyenne,” Taryn began. “Where’s her body?”

  “Unfortunately, there are lots of places around here to hide one. Some sinkholes, wells, creeks, the river, a cave or two…” Emma shrugged. “And he would’ve had several hours to do it in. Nobody even realized she was missing until later the next day.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Not much. He’s older than most of us. Was in the marines and got injured. Afghanistan? Maybe Iraq. I can’t remember. Anyway, he came home and went to work for Sieko, that’s the cell phone factory.”

  “What was someone older, like him, doing at a party that was mainly meant for high school students?” Taryn wondered aloud.

  “Oh, well, anyone could go. It was kind of the place to go, if you know what I mean,” Emma explained. “There’s not much to do around here, not even a theater. So you just kind of hang out until you get married.”

  “Or go to college?”

  “Yeah, well, there’s that. But I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not–the town and the college are kind of divided. Like, their own little worlds, you know? The people at the college don’t really get out in the community. They all shop at the same craft supply store, eat at the same cafes, and then hang out at the different centers on campus. It’s a liberal arts school, but our town is anything but liberal.”

  “But you go there,” Taryn pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, I always kind of felt like I didn’t belong here,” Emma admitted. “You know, I didn’t go to church or anything growing up. And that’s the thing to do. My parents weren’t exactly church-going people and then in high school I got into Wicca and stuff. I did a semester abroad in Rome when I was a junior. Some of these people have barely been out of Georgia. And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but I am a vegetarian.” Emma smiled, and Taryn felt even more connected to her. She knew how it felt to feel disconnected to the world around you.

  “So why stay here? Why not go to Atlanta or Memphis or even Chattanooga or Nashville?”

  Emma sighed and stared over Taryn’s head, out the window that overlooked the quiet little main street. “I don’t know. Growing up I couldn’t wait to get out of here. It’s easy to dream, though. Actually leaving just ended up being too hard. I have a love-hate relationship with the place. Living here I feel stifled, trapped, out of my element. But when I’m away I yearn for it. I guess it doesn’t make sense.”

  It did make sense to Taryn, though. Sometimes she found herself feeling the same way about Matt. When she was with him she questioned what she as doing, if what they were doing was right, what her feelings truly were. “Stifled” was a good word. And then, when they were apart, her heart felt broken.

  “I don’t know,” Emma laughed. “Maybe I’ll go soon. Seeing you and what you do and how independent you are, it gives me the motivation to make a change. Maybe now is the time.”

  “I need to get out,” Taryn stated. Matt was holed up in his makeshift office, a corner of the dining room, and Taryn burst through the door after her class, adrenalin pumping. “Really, I do. How about we drive to the next county over and eat, see a movie, do something?”

  “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Give me an hour to finish this up and then I’m yours. You okay?”

  She began to push her boots off and slip off her jacket, careful to stow them away as she went. Matt was a little OCD about cleanliness. It was starting to rub off. “Yeah, just going a little stir crazy I think. I need some perspective.”

  He nodded in agreement and sent her an absent smile, already back to his work.

  Going a little farther than originally intended, they spent the whole afternoon and evening in Athens, shopping, eating, and watching a movie. Picking out a film was always difficult for them because while Taryn tended to like heavy dramas and horrors, Matt leaned towards romantic comedies and fantasy. When she found a theater showing a revival of “Rosemary’s Baby,” she was excited but he a little less so. “What’s it about?” he asked nervously, eyeing the creepy baby carriage on the poster with suspicion.

  “It’s about some devil worshippers who impregnate a woman to have the devil’s baby,” she explained. Matt’s face turned a little white and she laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s a classic. You’ll love it.”

  Afterwards, sitting in an Italian restaurant with soft light and softer music he was still musing over the film, shaking his head. “They couldn’t have been witches,” he complained for the hundredth time. “Witches don’t worship the devil!”

  “Leave it to you to feel pity for the cult,’ Taryn laughed. “Although, to be fair, Rosemary and Hutch are the only two who ever use the word ‘witch.’ I still can’t believe you never saw that…”

  Taryn was excited to find a large craft superstore where she was able to stock up on more canvas, frames, and brushes. Matt was equally impressed with the even bigger bookstore next door and for the next hour they holed up in the coffee shop, each with a stack of books at their side: Matt, a collection of sci-fi and Taryn a collection of physic and dream phenomena. She still had a lot to learn.

  By the time they were driving back to the cabin both were delightfully exhausted and rejuvenated. “I needed that,” she sighed, stretching out in the car seat. Her joints were a little stiff and her back achy from being out all day. “I like getting out.”

  “Me too sometimes,” he agreed. “And I think we did our part to help boost the Georgian economy.”

  Taryn considered their backseat full of books and art supplies and laughed. “I’m thinking of making my own body balm and candles. I saw some beeswax there. I might try that next.”

  “You’re not going to get all Pioneer Woman on me, are you?”

  “Nah, just trying to find a new hobby, something to keep me busy,” she shrugged. “I’ve felt a little down lately.”

  She wasn’t feeling depressed, exactly, just out of sorts. Maybe she was too invested in Cheyenne and what was going on around her. It would probably be a good thing when her class wound up and she was able to leave, although where she’d go next was still up in the air. Should she return to Florida with Matt? Go back to her apartment in Nashville? It was bound to need a good airing out, if nothing else. She didn’t have a new job lined up yet and that was making her antsy. She had bills and stuff.

  At some point she and Matt needed to sit down and talk about their relationship. So far she’d been a big wuss and avoided it. There was no way of doing it without it feeling like a confrontation and she hated those. She didn’t want him to think she was putting pressure on him for anything but, at thirty, she also couldn’t afford to half-ass something, either.

  The cabin was dark when they pulled up to it; they’d forgotten to leave a light on in their haste to leave. “Stay here, I’ll go in and flip the switch,” Matt ordered as he turned off the engine.

  Taryn waited all of ten seconds then jumped out of the car. Like hell she was sitting in the dark car, alone. It was a moonless night and the increasing clouds were even blocking out the stars, making it incredibly dark. Pushing herself into a little jog and ignoring the pain in her legs, she caught up with Matt and waited for him to fish out the keys. “I get spooked sitting in dark cars. You know, the urban legend about the hook?” Matt looked at her blankly; of course he didn’t know that one.

  Within seconds the living room and front porch were flooded with light and Taryn breathed a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she’d been hold
ing onto. Matt went in first, leaving her to pull the door close behind her.

  The living room was bright and cheerful, everything in place exactly as they’d left it. Both of their laptops were on the dining room table, Miss Dixie waiting patiently on the footstool near the hallways, waiting to be used again. The air was quiet, with only the sounds of their breathing breaking up the stillness. Nothing had changed in their absence.

  Still, Taryn stopped in her tracks, looked around, and shuddered. “Matt,” she whispered. “Somebody was just in here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hotel or anything?” Matt asked with concern. They’d been home for hours and now it was 2 am. Both were snuggled down under the down comforter, an old movie playing on the TV. Matt was drowsy and had nodded off a few times already; Taryn was wide awake and wired.

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted, nervously glancing at the bedroom door. She wasn’t sure if she felt better with it shut, or open so that she could see what was going on in the hallway outside.

  Matt had checked all the rooms, peeking into closets and looking under all the beds. There was so sign of anyone other than them having been in the house. It didn’t reassure Taryn, however. Her skin still crawled from the electrical air currents that spoke of another, or thing, having invaded their space just moments before they’d entered the room.

  “Maybe it was Thelma and Jeff?” Matt suggested. “Come to check on something?”

  “No,” she replied stubbornly. “It had just happened, right before we walked in. I felt it.”