Griffith Tavern (Taryn's Camera Book 2) (8 page)

Nothing was there. The house was quiet, the windows empty. Yet, something hovered; a viscidness that surrounded her and made it hard to catch her breath. It pushed down on her from above, gently but with great pressure. Taryn closed her eyes and, focusing on her breathing, tried to dispel the invisible suit of armor that enveloped her. Little by little, it eased up until the air felt normal again.

She turned back to the car and started towards it but she’d barely taken two steps when the breezes stirred again, nipping at her neck and fingers.

Ever so gently, Taryn laid her paints down on the ground and, moving in slow motion, turned to face the building. At first it looked the same as before, nothing appeared to have been moved or manipulated in any way. But there, standing in a downstairs window, was the unmistakable shadowy outline of a woman and she was staring straight at Taryn.

Taryn jumped a little but didn’t look away. The energy radiating from the house was hot and palpable as Permelia’s eyes bore into her. She couldn’t turn her head or ignore what she was seeing, despite the fear that crept down her spine and reached into her heart.

For a brief moment, the two solitary women watched one another with equal curiosity. Neither the figure nor Taryn moved; time itself seemed to stop for just an instant as the currents between them sparked. Taryn could feel a bond of sorts that felt as real and solid as the ground underneath her feet. She couldn’t make out any distinctive facial features but had the impression of long black hair falling around her shoulders and a dark colored dress. She was neither smiling nor frowning, but possessed a sharp look of concentration, as though she was unable to find the words she was seeking. Taryn could still hear the faint hum of cars behind her but they felt a million miles away, in another place and time. Even the old tavern glimmered dimly, wavering in the chasm the two women formed. For a moment it was intact again, whole, and then it was in shambles. As confused by the events as Taryn, it wasn’t sure which version of itself it should be.

Taryn was much calmer than she thought she’d ever be, faced with a situation such as this one. Right before the figure shimmered away, shimmering was the only way Taryn would be able to describe it to Matt later, she lifted her right hand in a kind of wave and Taryn knew she was directing it at her. The bond dissipated and the force threw Taryn to the ground, the wind knocked out of her. Before scrambling to her feet she thought she’d heard a cry of pain, but she might have been imagining it.

S
o what did you do?” Matt asked with genuine curiosity.

“I waved back,” Taryn answered. “You know, it felt rude not to.”

“I don’t know that I would’ve stuck around once I saw her.”

Taryn had trouble explaining how she’d felt compelled to stay, that she probably couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. And that, although she’d been scared, she was also curious. A huge part of her was almost disappointed when their link was interrupted.

Delphina’d taken pity on Taryn when she’d seen her sitting outside on the porch with her computer. She’d fixed her a plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit: supper.

“After all, I was on her property...”

“In light of the situation I’d say waving back was probably the appropriate thing to do,” Matt agreed. His voice was muffled against the phone.

“You’re getting undressed, aren’t you?” Taryn asked, accusingly. “What, are you planning on taking me in the shower with you?”

“Well, not today,” he laughed with uncharacteristic flirtation. “But maybe another time. It’s just blistering hot here today and I was sweating. I needed to cool off.”

“Do you think this is just a random haunting?” Another guest had checked in while she was out but she hadn’t seen them yet. Their car was in the driveway so she figured she’d see them at breakfast. She’d been at the B&B for almost two weeks and it was the first guest the business had had, other than her, since her first night. She wondered how Delphina managed.

“What do you mean?”

Chewing on the bottom of her lip, a bad habit that often let her sore and raw, she tied to articulate her thoughts. “Do you think she wants something out of me or am I just seeing things?”

“It sounds to me like you think there’s a mystery there,” he teased. “And that maybe you should call Fred, Daphne, and the gang to come and investigate.”

“Hey, I thought I
was
Daphne!”

“I don’t think so, I always saw you as more of a Velma type,” he mused.

Faking outrage she snorted. “Are you saying I’m nerdy and fat?”

“No, I’m saying you’re smart and have big breasts.”

With the first real laugh she’d had in awhile she wished him a good evening and hung up. With any luck, she’d have some emails from future job prospects and wouldn’t have to worry about money so much.

Unfortunately, there weren’t any emails, and no clients were sniffing out her services, but when she checked her bank account she did discover her last check had been deposited. She wasn’t rich, but she had cash flow again.

“That’s it,” she announced as she smacked her laptop shut. “I’m going out to eat. This calls for something processed and fattening.”

Taryn knew when to hold back and when to celebrate.

L
ater that night, in bed, Taryn wasn’t so sure the fries, cheeseburger, apple pie, and milkshake were a good idea. Now she was running back and forth to the bathroom more times than she’d like.

Almost an hour had passed since her last bathroom trip and she’d been lulled into a false sense of security. She’d even been dozing a little when the cramps seized her again, sending her scrambling out of bed to make a mad dash back to the toilet. She dozed again while she sat there in the dark, her arms and head resting on the sink beside her. With bleary eyes she washed her hands, dried them on the soft hand towel, and trudged back out the door, hoping this would be the last trip for the night.

When she crossed over the doorway, however, she stopped cold in her tracks. The silhouette of a woman, quite similar to the one who had stood in the window of Griffith Tavern earlier that day, now stood in her own window and stared out at the lawn. Although her back was to Taryn, she could still see the long dark hair. The air around them was already changing and Taryn shivered as she took a step backwards. Where could she go? What was she supposed to do? This close to her, it was obvious the woman was tall and thin, taller than Taryn anyway, and even stately.

“Jesus!” Taryn finally shouted, falling into her door. It might have taken her a moment to react, but she wasn’t so used to seeing weird crap at this point that she was unaffected at the sight of ghosts in her bedroom.

At the sound of Taryn’s voice, the woman turned partly around and cocked her head slightly to the left with a small smile. She had a startling beautiful face, almost angelic with its fine features and porcelain complexion. A faint glow emanated from her, as if someone was standing behind her with a flashlight. She nodded her head, an acknowledgement, and then, swept away by a breeze, she vanished.

On shaky legs, Taryn staggered across the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. She fumbled with the switch as she flipped her lamp on. She didn’t think she’d be sleeping in the dark tonight. There was still a strong current in the air, almost like static. Her hair was still standing on end.

“Okay,” she said aloud, a little surprised at the power in her voice. She felt like she might pass out. “You obviously want something from me. But I don’t think I can help you unless you stop scaring the living daylights out of me and are a little clearer with what you’re after.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but the air almost certainly rippled in response.

“I’m not good at this, Permelia.” At the sound of her name, the bedside lamp flickered off. In darkness, Taryn tightened her fists and waited for something extraordinary to happen. She prepared herself for a hurricane of activity, for the face of a ghost to appear inches away from her own, for her room to start spinning…

All was quiet.

Leaning forward, she flicked the lamp back on again. Like hell she was sitting there in the dark. “I don’t know what you think, but I’m not a medium, I don’t have some kind of magical sight. Well, okay,” Taryn conceded. “I do have a
little
bit of something, but I really don’t think I’m what you need.”

Now that she was talking, she was surprised at just how easy it was to converse with the ghost. It wasn’t so different than talking to herself really.

The air was still now, though; the room empty. Whatever had been there was gone; Taryn was sure of it.

Still a little stunned, she got up from the bed and grabbed her phone. Even though it was in the middle of the night, she sent Matt a text:

Ghost visited me tonight. Why? Nothing to do with B&B.

She’d no sooner laid back down and closed her eyes when her phone went off with a few notes from “Me and Bobby McGee.”

“Hey,” she answered. “You still up?”

“Working on something,” he lied. His voice sounded sleepy. “You had a visitor?”

She quickly filled him in on what happened, still shocked at the intensity of her appearance. Despite what had occurred at Windwood Farm, she’d never really interacted with a spirit before. At least, not since she was a child and that memory grew dimmer every day.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with where you’re staying,” he said, putting reason to her thoughts. “It’s
you
. She’s attached herself to
you
.”

“So she’s followed me home like a stray puppy? Well that’s a scary thought. Does she think I can magically fix whatever it is she needs?”

“Maybe,” he replied thoughtfully. “I need to think about it. It might be something else. Is there something you could do for her? Something nobody else could?”

“I don’t think so. She’s dead.”

“Well, there are three things going on here then. Either she wants you to do something for her, something she can’t do because she’s dead, or she wants to be known. I’ve heard of that happening, too.”

“Yeah, well, what’s the third thing?”

“Uh, she’s just crazy and wants attention?”

“Great,” Taryn quipped. “That’s just what I need.”

“Well, maybe she thinks you’re a kindred spirit. You know, two working girls trying to make it alone in the world,” he suggested.

“I can just see the sitcom now,” Taryn muttered.

“I was serious.”

“So was I.”

Matt was silent.

“What
could
she want after all these years?” Taryn asked at last. Why show up now?

“Maybe she’s afraid someone’s going to tear down her house,” he suggested. “And she wants you to stop it. God knows if it was you and your house you’d probably haunt someone until they threw themselves at the dozer.”

T
aryn didn’t see Delphina at breakfast. Warm French toast with berry compote, scrambled eggs, and biscuits were waiting for her and she stuffed a few muffins into her day pack, despite the fact her financial forecast had a much better outlook this morning. You could never be too prepared.

After breakfast she changed into her work clothes for the day, a pair of capris and a sleeveless top since it was still warm in the afternoons, and started out to her car with her canvas and paints. At the edge of the porch, Delphina knelt in the grass on a blanket and busied herself with her roses. She looked up and smiled when Taryn walked down the steps. “Thought I’d get a head start on these while it was cool this morning. I’ve been meaning to cut them back,” she explained.

“They’re beautiful,” Taryn conceded, admiring the flashes of color and velvety petals wrapping around the railings. “I’ve never been good at raising flowers. Had a garden a couple of times, but flowers aren’t my thing.”

“I treat my roses the same way I would my children if I had any,” Delphina laughed. “I spoil them. Did you enjoy your breakfast?”

“Yes, I did. And I was meaning to ask you, and I don’t want this to sound funny or anything, but it’s about the Tavern…”

“Sure, hon, what it is? Oh, damn it!” A thorn pierced through her finger and a trail of blood began trickling down Delphina’s wrist and dripped onto her jean shorts. She immediately placed her finger in her mouth and sucked on the injury, wincing at the pain.

“Can I get you anything? Some water?” The patch of blood on the old woman’s shorts spread out like a small fan.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. Just forgot my gloves this morning. It was foolish,” she sighed, rocking back on her heels.

“I can get them for you,” Taryn offered. “Just point me in the right direction.”