Dark Hollow Road (Taryn's Camera Book 3) (8 page)

The house, which had been recently unoccupied, did not have electricity. Arson investigators claim it’s unusual for house fires to start where electricity isn’t present. An unnamed accelerant was found, however, and it’s been concluded that the fire was intentionally set “for reasons not yet known,” according to Police Chief Randy Mason.

There is not yet a suspect or person of interest at this time. At the time of the fire Cheyenne was allegedly at a friend’s house twelve miles away.

Willoughby’s whereabouts are still unknown. Although she had a purse with personal belongings with her, according to witnesses, these have not been recovered.

Mason says he hopes she left on her own freewill and “wants to be missing” rather than “the alternative.” “I know it’s hard on the parents,” he told WTVX, “but I hope she left because she wanted to because that at least means she’s out there safe somewhere. That’s the best case scenario at the moment.”

Cheyenne Willoughby, 18, Still Missing

It’s been one year since 18-year-old Cheyenne Willoughby went missing. On her nineteenth birthday, her parents are sending out another plea for anyone who might have information to contact authorities. “You can be anonymous,” her mother, Thelma Willoughby says. “We just want information and to know she’s okay.”

Despite the efforts of local law enforcement and concerned citizens, there is still no sign of Cheyenne or clues as to what may have happened to her.

“When your daughter is gone and you don’t even know where to start looking, it’s heartbreaking,” her step-father, Jeff Willoughby said. “It feels like if someone would come forward and say something so we could at least look in the right direction. But nobody’s talking.”

Although it has been a year of sadness and frustrations for the family, they remain hopeful that Willoughby will be found and brought home safe. There is currently a $15,000 reward for anyone offering information leading to Cheyenne’s whereabouts.

B
y the time she’d read through all the articles and even checked out Cheyenne’s Facebook and Instagram sites, Taryn felt drained. She’d started making a list of questions as she went along, and now her notes were two pages long. There were more than twenty articles she’d recovered in all, although most of them just repeated the same information. It all came down to this: Cheyenne had attended a party, left with a male friend, and then disappeared. Nobody had seen or heard from her since she left the party. And the fire at the other location apparently wasn’t connected to her disappearance. Supposedly.

“Hey,” Matt stood in the bedroom door, a glass of Coke in his hand. “How’s it going?”

Setting her laptop on the bed, Taryn stretched her legs out and reached for the drink. “It’s going. I found a bunch of articles and stuff about the missing girl.”

“Yeah? What’d you find?”

Matt perched at the foot of the bed and began stroking Taryn’s foot, something that made her purr like a kitten. She was a sucker for getting her feet rubbed.

“A lot of things. But basically she was at this party, left with a dude, and then disappeared.”

Matt cocked his head to one side and studied Taryn. “So what’s the mystery? Sounds like the guy Travis did something to her.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” Taryn agreed. “Only the police don’t seem to think he’s a suspect. He claims she never left with him at all, that he barely knew her and left before she did.”

“That should be easy enough to prove, shouldn’t it?”

“You’d think so.”

“Still, to me, it sounds like the guy did something,” Matt pointed out. “I mean, if witnesses saw him...”

“Oh, and another thing. There was a house that burned down. Same night, and arson at that. But the police don’t think it’s connected.”

Matt laughed, his face lighting up in delight. “Are you kidding me? Well that’s a big coincidence then.”

“Maybe,” Taryn answered. “It’s all so confusing really. Too easy to think of this guy as the one who did it.”

“So give me a rundown on the list of our suspects,” Matt prodded. “I know you; you have some ideas.”

“Okay,” Taryn agreed, rubbing her hands together. She tried not to think about the fact that this was a real person they were talking about, a real missing girl. She would think about that later, and it would sadden and depress her, but for the moment she needed to be analytical about it. “First we have the guy she went home with.”

“Alright, we have a guy. The last one to supposedly see her. Assuming he was the mystery ride.”

“Right!” Taryn exclaimed. “She texted her parents and said she had a ride home and would be there early. We are assuming it’s the guy witnesses claim to have seen her left with.”

“Okay, what about a random stranger?”

“I thought about that, too,” Taryn confessed. “Maybe she did get a ride from the other guy, he made a move on her and she didn’t like it so she asked to be let out of the car. She gets picked up, gets killed, and now he’s denying taking her home because he feels responsible for her death.”

“Anyone else?”

“The parents. I hate to say it, but people area freaks and you just never know. Although I’ve met Thelma and she seems okay.”

Matt leaned back against the bedpost and closed his eyes. “And that’s not even counting all the people we don’t know about. For instance, what if the guy was lying and there were more people at his house. Did he live alone?”

“No, with his parents.”

“Can’t rule them out either. Brother? Sister?”

Taryn sighed, rubbing at her temples. “And then the people at the party. What if she made someone mad and they came out and found her? They may
never
find this poor girl.”

“So are you discounting her being runaway?” Matt asked.

“Yes,” Taryn answered quickly.

“That was fast. What makes you think she didn’t just up and leave? Get mad and go off to blow some steam?”

“Because I wouldn’t be seeing her if she wasn’t dead.”

T
aryn’s sleep was restless. Although she’d never been a great sleeper, she’d been doing a lot better with Matt around. It was soothing to reach her foot or hand out in the middle of the night and touch his toe, his thigh, his stomach… Not only did Taryn have trouble falling asleep and staying there, terrible nightmares had plagued her since she was a child. Her parents had sought medication for her before she moved in with her grandmother full time (she’d promptly had Taryn stop everything, thinking it was probably making things worse rather than better and she was right) and even seen a therapist. Nothing but having an actual physical body there with her helped.

Sometimes the nightmares were so bad she wondered if she maybe she wasn’t reliving some former past live and horrors that befell her back then. The recurring dream of burning in a fire, feeling her flesh smoldering and then peeling was much too vivid to come out of her random imagination.

Tonight, the dream started out innocuous enough.

The grass beneath her feet was brittle from the lack of rain, but the air was damp, foggy. It was sweet-smelling from the fire and the mixture of dampness and smoke clung to her hair, to her skin, to her clothing. She breathed in deeply, taking in the scent, and then let it roll off around her, engulfing her in its saccharinity.  There was a chill in the air, a small but biting one, and she found herself pulling her jacket closer around her, discovering warmth and protection in its thick, lined fabric.

The sound of laughter was all around her, although she couldn’t see where it was coming from, and the noise was a comforting one. The sense of being surrounded by people, being a part of something, was tantalizing. The wine cooler she’d downed earlier set solidly on top of her stomach, a nuisance but not an unpleasant feeling. She felt loose, carefree, relaxed.

Then, the air changed. It wasn’t a subtle change, but abrupt. Suddenly, she was conscious of the fact that she was alone. As the fog grew denser around her and the cacophony of voices dissolved a panicky fear she’d not known since she was a child clawed at her chest and stomach. In frantic circles she turned around and around, trying to peer through the thickness of the night. The fire was gone, replaced by a coldness that sank into her skin and bubbled there, mixing with the fear until a putrid stench erupted from her in tiny clouds; she could smell her own terror.

The grass under her feet was slick as she tried to run. Her cowboy boots slid on it, torturously making her feel as though she were running in slow motion. When she fell to her knees, there was laughter from above her but it wasn’t friendly; it mocked her and chided her. “Mommy,” she cried piteously, calling for someone she hadn’t yearned for in years. “Mommy!”

Then, the darkness settled over her and dragged her down, down, down until she was unable to breathe and simply clutched at her throat for air.

S
he
knew
this was a dream. She wasn’t caught up in it like she often was in her nightmares, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. With Matt still sleeping on the other side, Taryn sat up in bed and let her feet rest on the cold hardwood floors. It was only 6:17 am and she didn’t technically need to be up for hours yet, but she doubted she could get back to sleep.

A can of Coke and a shower later and she was starting to feel a little normal. The sadness clung to her like a heavy dress as she moved through the downstairs rooms. A young girl was undoubtedly dead, parents grieving, and a town confused. What had happened to Cheyenne? Was there any way she could help? If she went back to the farmhouse and walked around, would her camera pick anything up?

M
att wanted to work in the house that afternoon, so she drove into town by herself. Now, driving down Main Street of the sleepy little college town, she looked at it with different eyes.

Although it boasted the small liberal arts college, the town itself was barely on the map. There were only two main streets (Main and Broadway) and one school (elementary, middle, and high) for each of the corresponding grades. The high school and middle school were located next to each other in a large, modern, soulless concrete complex about a mile from the college campus. The elementary school was a throwback to the 1960s and had only one story and a large playground that still boasted a steep metal slide and a real jungle gym.

Taryn figured that most of the kids in town would’ve grown up together, attended school with one another all through the years and, unless they scattered after graduation, now probably lived within a few miles of one another, raising kids who would also continue the cycle.

Unlike many of the smaller rural communities, the downtown area had a few shops, thanks to some antique places and crafts vendors.

The nearest Wal-Mart was in the next county over and there was only one grocery store–a discount one. Lots of second-hand shops. Chain restaurants consisted of a McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Wendy’s, and Hardee’s. Several mom and pop type places, her kinds of places, dotted the side of the road. A large grassy area in the middle of town proclaimed itself to be a “War Memorial Park” and at 2 pm there was a handful of toddlers playing on the swings while bored-looking mothers pushed them back and forth, either chatting with one another or gazing at their smart phones while they idly kept the rhythm with one hand.

The county was dry, so there weren’t any beer or alcohol sales.