Black Raven Inn: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 6) (9 page)

Taryn
banged
her head down on her desk and scrubbed at the back of her neck with her hand. A headache was forming from staring at the laptop screen for so long. A carry-out container of Greek food was growing cold by her keyboard and a reality TV program blasted obscenities a few feet away. (She liked the company.) She’d been staring at her pictures all afternoon, trying to edit them in a way that made them look presentable to her employer.

“The pressure is on,” she moaned into her arms.

Taryn could feel Miss Dixie drolly watching her from across the room. She could almost hear her saying,
I did
my
job. Now it’s your turn not to screw it up.

Sometimes the pictures of her worksite had the place looking better than it did in reality. Through her eyes and Miss Dixie’s lens she could capture the essence of the building while ignoring the neglect and poor condition.

That was not the case for the Black Raven Inn.

If anything, her pictures made it look
worse
. Taryn wouldn’t have thought that was possible and now she cringed at the implication.

Am I going to be able to make it look good at all
, she wondered.

Not without ample use of her imagination. “I’m gonna have to dig deep in my well of ingenuity to make this happen,” she grumbled.

She’d taken more than three-hundred photographs in all, so far. The best ones were of the exterior, although she had a few good shots of the lobby. She hadn’t started on the ones of Room #5 yet. She needed some Tylenol and a fresh dose of caffeine before she attacked those.

Two weeks into the job and she still wasn’t real sure what she was doing or which direction she should go in. First the weather had held her up and then her health. A serious lack of motivation was starting to settle in.

“I gotta start sketching tomorrow,” she reminded herself as she got up and stretched. It wasn’t doing her any good to sit there and stare at the screen anymore. She was starting to see things that weren’t there.

Taryn rooted through her refrigerator, searching for a Coke she hoped was stuck somewhere behind the assorted food cartons. Once she started sketching, the job would move along quickly. She’d spend time with the charcoals and then, once satisfied, she’d bring out the oil paints. The Black Raven Inn demanded oils. Watercolors were too whimsical for such a place.

“A ha!” Upon finding the last Coke she’d hidden from herself, Taryn stood up with glee and held her treasure in the air. “Found you!”

She needed to make a run to the store. There was no way she could get through the night without more caffeine. She rarely drank, had never smoked, and was only mildly addicted to bad TV. Caffeine was her main vice; she couldn’t live without it.

Back in the living room she turned the channel to something more subdued and then settled into her office chair again.

“Let’s start Round Two!” She liked cheering herself on sometimes. When nobody else was around to do it for you, you had to dig the motivation out yourself.

The first few pictures of Room #5 were unremarkable. The room appeared small, dingy, and cramped. That’s also the way it looked in real life. The fading and curling posters of Parker, which looked even sadder in her photographs than she remembered them looking in reality, were still on the walls and nightstands.

And then she came to one she’d taken by accident.

Taryn was about to hang it up for the night when a shot she didn’t remember taking jumped onto the screen and had her leaning in for a closer look. Unbeknownst to her, Taryn’s camera had been jostled to the right when Miss Dixie had gone off. It must have happened when she was trying to leave, when she’d been doubled over in pain.

Pointing towards the bathroom door, the photo was at an awkward angle–cutting off most of the floor and getting a good piece of the popcorn ceiling. What it
did
manage to capture in the shot, however, had Taryn shaking.

The unmistakable figure of a man stood by the door, leaning against the flimsy wood in a similar way Taryn had later leaned against the wall herself, just inches from where he stood. Most of his facial features were unclear. However, she could still make out the loose-fitting pants, shaggy hair, and long delicate fingers on hands that fell down at his side. His shoulders were slumped as though he carried the weight of the world. From the neck up, however, he was confident. His head was raised and held high and although she couldn’t make out his nose or mouth, it was clear that his piercing eyes were staring straight into her camera.

Although she had felt nothing of his presence at that time, he’d been all too aware of Taryn’s.

T
aryn stood on Ruby Jane’s porch
and shifted nervously from one hip to the other, trying desperately to ignore the sharp pain that shot down her leg. In her hands she carried her laptop, as well as a spare memory card with most of the images from the motel.

Most
of them…

She still wasn’t sure how much she should show Ruby, or how much she should
tell
her.

“I wouldn’t show her the picture from the room,” Matt had advised her the night before.

Taryn had called him around midnight, at odds with herself on how to proceed with the picture. Should she tell Ruby? Show her? Keep it to herself for awhile to see if it happened again? She didn’t know how to proceed.

“Are you
sure
? Do you not think that’s something she would want to see?” Taryn worried.

“Just think about it,” Matt replied. “What if she’s not a believer in these things? What if she thinks you’re trying to pull a prank on her? Or even extort her in some way?”

Taryn scowled, feeling discouraged. Matt was the main voice of reason in her life and sometimes it was annoying, especially when he was right.

“But what if she
is
a believer?” Taryn countered at last.

“Then something like this might hurt her,” Matt said carefully. “How would
you
feel if someone took a picture and captured Andrew? Or Stella?”

Hurt
, Taryn answered silently.
I’d feel hurt.

For one thing, she’d never be able to understand why someone other than herself had been able to make contact with her fiancé and grandmother when
she
couldn’t. (And not from lack of trying, either. It was a hurtful fact that Taryn had been able to make contact with a number people who had passed on, and yet none of them were departed souls who were personal to Taryn.)

After spending several stressful hours studying the photo and chewing on Matt’s words she ultimately decided not to share the image. Matt was right; Ruby Jane didn’t know her and she was concerned Ruby might think Taryn was trying to extort her or just be funny, and Taryn didn’t want that.

Now she found herself outside, waiting to be let in.

“Taryn.” Ruby smiled as she opened the door. “I’ve been anxiously awaiting your visit all morning!”

Today Ruby was dressed in a flowing peasant skirt with a lightweight sweater that hung loosely on her lithe frame. Her long gray hair was wound up in a loose bun but her flawless complexion with nary a wrinkle and the horn-rimmed glasses made her look decades younger. From a distance, Taryn thought she could have passed for a teenager.

“Pardon the mess,” Ruby called as she led Taryn into the living room. “I’ve got a benefit with the Humane Society coming up tomorrow and I’m trying to fold brochures and stuff envelopes.”

Sure enough, the coffee table and surrounding chairs were covered with leaflets. “Just clear yourself off a spot,” Ruby said as she began making room for Taryn’s laptop.

Taryn grinned, pleased by the fact that the celebrity could be as messy as anyone else she knew.

“Now I’ve got around two-hundred photographs for you to take a look at,” Taryn warned her as she waited for the computer to boot. “I also brought you your SD card with the images on them as well, so you can keep copies for yourself.”

Ruby held out her hand to accept the card. When their fingers touched, though, Taryn felt a buzzing sensation and recoiled in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Ruby apologized. “I seem to be picking up a lot of static.”

Taryn studied her curiously, remembering the similar shock she’d received at the motel. It was fall, however, and static
was
in the air.

Still…

For a millisecond when Taryn had looked at Ruby she’d seen not the woman before her in the skirt and bun, but a younger version of her with long wavy hair and a toothy grin.

“The computer’s ready if you’d like to take a look,” Taryn offered, unable to take her eyes off Ruby.

Something’s happening
, she thought.
I’m not sure what it is, but it’s very interesting.

If Ruby saw or felt anything peculiar then she kept it to herself.

A door down the hall opened and the creak was a foreign sound, as though another dimension was opening. Moments later Taryn heard footsteps padding towards them. When she looked up, Lenny Parsons was standing before them.

“Lenny,” Ruby said absently, “this is Taryn. She’s the artist I was telling you about.”

The man who stood before them was one of the best-selling solo artists of all time. Although he’d once been a part of Silver Streak with Ruby and Parker, after Parker’s death he’d gone out on his own. He was outsold only by Michael Jackson, Garth Brooks, and Elvis. He’d even outsold Madonna.

And now he was standing within mere inches of Taryn, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and house slippers.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied casually. He was in his late sixties but still had a youthful looking body. He was also still gorgeously dangerous, with jet black hair, bright blue eyes, and tanned skin.

Taryn was back to feeling like she might faint.

“He’s got a show at the Ryman tonight,” Ruby said.

“A tribute show,” Lenny added. “It will be a little embarrassing.”

“Oh, you know you’re going to eat it up. I’ll be singing,” she informed Taryn. “And telling everyone how much I love him.”

“Lies, all lies,” Lenny grinned.

When he excused himself from the room, Ruby made a face that was difficult to read. “He stays here with me when he comes to town. Says he likes it better than a hotel room. We’ve been friends for almost fifty years. And after what happened to Parker, well…I don’t like my men to get very far from me. I’m a bit like a mother hen in that respect.”

Taryn understood. Sometimes she felt like she was slowly weaning herself from Matt for the same reason–it hurt too much to worry about someone so much.

Taryn
spent
most of the afternoon scrolling through the numerous photos with Ruby, pointing out the ones she liked and planned on using as inspiration for her paintings.

“Here,” she said, stopping on one she’d taken of the courtyard. “I’m planning on painting it from this angle, because you get a nice view of the expanse of the courtyard without any of the pavement that’s up near the top.”

Ruby nodded as Taryn pointed. “I like that. Good thinking.”

They grimaced in unison at the interior shots of the lobby, Ruby wrinkling her aristocratic nose and exhaling. “Not much to look at, is it?”

“Or smell,” Taryn agreed.

“It always did have its own special brand of perfume.” Ruby grinned. “Even back when we would go there.”

Taryn desperately wanted to ask
why
they went there to start with but refrained. She didn’t want to look like she was prying. Parker had lived in California, of course, and would’ve stayed someplace when he visited Nashville but there were so many other choices that would’ve been better.

Why didn’t he just stay with you
? she wanted to ask, but couldn’t.

When they got to the pictures of Room #5, Taryn slowed down. “And here’s the motel room. I tried to take it from as many angles as possible.”

Taryn studied Ruby discreetly as she slowly scrolled through each picture, one by one. The other woman’s face remained impassive, but her eyes turned glassy and a red sunburn rash began creeping up her neck. Taryn knew a woman attempting to hide her true emotions when she saw one. Although she was a sensitive person herself, she was good at hiding it in public and saving her own displays of emotion for private moments. She suspected that Ruby, someone in the limelight, had gotten good at doing the same.

When Ruby reached a shot of the bed, she stopped and brushed a stray strand of silver hair from her face. Her fingers shook, the only outward sign that she was troubled. Taryn, momentarily forgetting that she was sitting next to a celebrity, saw only the woman and reached out her hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked, gently touching Ruby’s shoulder. It was thin and bony under her fingers, making Ruby feel frail. “Do you want me to put these up so that you can look at them in private?”

Ruby patted Taryn’s hand, her fingers chilly against Taryn’s own. “You’re sweet,” she said softly. “I’m alright, though. It’s been a long time. I just hadn’t seen the bed in so long.”

“Is it the same furniture? I mean, as before?”

“No, not the same,” Ruby answered. “The only original piece from our days is the mirror there on that wall by the bathroom. The rest has been added over the years. The bed, however, is in the same place. It
could
be the same one. It’s in the same place,” she repeated.

Taryn understood.

“When my fiancé died I eventually sold our place,” she admitted. “Before I did, though, I tried living in it. The furniture brought back to many memories and I thought I might go insane so I put most of it in storage and bought new stuff. I thought it might help. The first night, though, I was sitting on the new couch in the living room and realized that even though it was a
new
couch, it was in the same position as the old one. I was still looking in the same direction, at the same view, that Andrew once had. I couldn’t stand it. It was 3:00 am and I was up dragging furniture around by myself.”

Ruby smiled unhappily. “Not many people understand that. Some want everything to stay the same. Others crave change. I go back and forth.”

Taryn nodded. “So do I.”

“It’s been so
long
,” Ruby grimaced. “So long. I shouldn’t still be affected the way I am. Time is meant to heal, and in many ways it has, but there’s an old hurt that just won’t go away.”

“Yes,” Taryn agreed. “It’s been years for me as well and yet sometimes it feels like yesterday. Other times it’s almost like he was never here at all. It feels like a dream.”

“Thank you for taking this job and for bringing the pictures to me,” Ruby said. But Taryn could sense rather than hear disappointment in her voice and was concerned.

“Is everything okay? I mean, is there something else you wanted that I didn’t get?”

Ruby rose to her feet and began pacing the room. She was surrounded by reminders of her success: numerous awards spanning her four decades in the business, framed candid shots of her with everyone from Dolly Parton to Bruce Springsteen, concert posters advertising her shows at places like Carnegie Hall and the Rose Bowl Stadium…

And yet now she had nothing but the look of a woman knee-deep in awful grief.

“No, you did a terrific job. The old place is an eyesore but the photographs are wonderful. You should consider doing an exhibit of your work. I have a friend who owns a small gallery in Franklin. I can talk to her if you’d like.”

Taryn straightened with pride and folder her hands to keep from clapping with glee. “Well, yes, thank you. That would be nice.”

Ruby stopped and turned, her skirt whipping around her slender legs. “I was wondering if you…” She let her voice trail off as her eyes drifted to the ceiling, searching for the right words.

“Yes?”

“Have you
seen
anything? I mean, have you felt or seen anything that’s perhaps not…obvious?”

Taryn bit her lip and looked down at her feet. She noticed a clump of mud on one side of her left boot and hoped she didn’t track anything into the house.

“I know the motel is meant to be haunted,” she said slowly. “I watched some videos on You Tube of paranormal groups going in and investigating.”

Ruby waved her hand, the large rings that adorned her fingers sparkling in the sunlight that streamed in through the bay windows. “Charlatans, most of them. EVPs and such. I never understood any of that. How do they know they’re not just picking up on radio frequencies from other devices? And it’s always the same thing. I don’t trust those who make their videos and write their blog posts and do such things for publicity. I trust
you
.”

Taryn, incredibly flattered, preened under her words. “I’m not a psychic,” she said. “I don’t communicate with the dead like some people claim to be able to do. Sometimes, though, I
do
pick up on stuff.”

“Yes,” Ruby said gravely. “I know.”

Taryn wondered how
much
she knew.

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I may have felt something in the room as I was leaving,” Taryn said at last. “And maybe a few little things around the rest of the motel.”

Ruby nodded in encouragement.

Now was the time to tell her about the picture, but she still wasn’t sure she should. “How do
you
feel about these things?”

Ruby narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I am not a religious person, but I am very spiritual. I am under no illusion that I will live forever and with each passing birthday I feel myself growing closer and closer to the end. The older I get, the more I feel connected to the things I can’t see. Does that make sense?”

“Total sense,” Taryn agreed. “I feel the same way, but mostly because I have a medical condition that affects me in a way that, well, let’s say makes me feel closer to my own mortality.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Ruby said, looking at Taryn with surprise. “You’re so young!”

“It’s okay,” Taryn waved it off. “I’d like to hear more about what you were saying.”

“Well, lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my past. I want to feel
connected
to it. In this business you’re always moving forward, always thinking ahead. The stuff you did doesn’t matter nearly as much as what you’re going to do. You’re only as good as your next album, next tour, next everything. I’ve spent a lot of time looking forward.” Ruby paused and sighed, for the first time since Taryn met her looking her age. “I miss my friend. I miss Parker something fierce. But as hard as I try, I can’t
find
him. They say that a person is never truly gone as long as they’re in your heart but that’s not true. I can’t feel him at all!”

Taryn felt tears welling up in her eyes. She understood. She, too, had never felt Andrew. It was as though when he died he’d moved straight on to whatever was awaiting him, leaving nothing of himself behind in her world.

“I want to know that there is something else out there. I
need
to know that this isn’t the end. I want to feel him again.”

Taryn lowered her head.
Yep
, she thought,
I’ll have to tell her
.

“Then there’s a picture I kept back that you need to see,” she said aloud.

Ruby walked back over and sat down by Taryn while she pulled up the image she’d left out, the one of the man by the door. When it popped up on the screen, Ruby gasped, a strangled noise that sounded like she might be on the verge of choking or crying.

Taryn watched, helpless, as the other woman’s eyes filled with water that she held back. With a steady hand she reached towards the computer and gently outlined the figure, her coral-painted nails barely touching the screen.

“It’s him,” she whispered. “He’s
there
.”

“Maybe,” Taryn explained slowly. “He may not really be there. The room might just be remembering. Sometimes we, my camera and I, pick up on leftover energy. It doesn’t necessarily mean his spirit is trapped in the room or that he’s still there.”

“But it could mean that,” Ruby countered.

“It could,” Taryn relented, not wanting to get her hopes up.

“I’ve been in there several times, trying to find him. I’ve called out to him, spoke his name. But he’s never come to me,” Ruby said softly. “He doesn’t come to
me
.”

“Miss Dixie is my conduit,” Taryn said gently. “She helps me with these things. I can’t always pick up on them on my own. I don’t think it’s
you
. Sometimes these spirits have little control over what they can and cannot do.”

“Taryn,” Ruby said suddenly, turning to face her. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

“Oh?”

Ruby shook her head. “No. When I said I was familiar with your work, well, I didn’t just mean your paintings. I also meant your work with the afterlife. I discovered you on a website about the paranormal. I read the newspaper articles about you and your work in Indiana and on Jekyll Island. I know this sounds like the ramblings of a crazy old woman, but I bought the motel because of
you
.”

Taryn felt the blood draining from her face. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, confused.

“I want you to help me find my Parker. I want you to bring Black Raven Inn back to life so that he can return to me.
That’s
why I hired you.” The quiet desperation in her voice nearly broke Taryn’s heart. “Can you help me?”