Read Black Raven Inn: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 6) Online
Authors: Rebecca Patrick-Howard
Figuring
she’d
done about all of the administrative part of the motel that there was to do, Taryn wrapped things up and went back outside. The sun was starting to drop down over the buildings in the distance; soon the moon would make an appearance and then she’d lose all her natural light. She needed to get her butt in gear.
“A walk around the perimeter. I can finish that up today, too,” she told herself.
To Aker, she hollered, “Hey dude! I’m gonna walk around the motel and take some shots. I won’t go in anywhere!”
He hesitated as though he might get up and accompany her, but then he apparently decided she was safe enough, what with the wall and gate surrounding the property, and settled back into his chair. Taryn noticed, however, that he didn’t pick up his book or magazine. He might not be following her, but he was remaining alert.
“Who the heck
is
he?” she wondered, not for the first time. Besides a hire-a-former-cop bodyguard?
Taryn had made her way all the way around to the back of the motel when she remembered her camera and the picture she’d inadvertently taken of the wall when the rat dashed out.
She stopped walking and turned Miss Dixie on. It was the last shot on her card.
The small break room was no longer dark. Instead, it was full of artificial light, supplied by the overhead light and small lamp that rested on a side table.
The bed still looked ratty and it wasn’t anything she would sleep on, but it was cleanish. A wool blanket was pulled up over the stained mattress. The table was clear of clutter, save a plate of what looked like pasta and a cup of something. A worn area rug covered most of the floor.
There was no sign of the rat or the shadow.
“Well, that’s interesting anyway,” Taryn said with a little laugh.
She might have been making light of what she was viewing, but the truth was that she was incredibly unnerved. She never got used to seeing the past in this way, of seeing the things Miss Dixie revealed. It was a shock to her system each time.
And a big part of Taryn was afraid that one day
she’d
get sucked into the picture herself, with nobody to drag her back out.
“What do you want me to do with this?” She spoke to the motel but it remained aloof and stoic. If it had an agenda, it wasn’t revealing it.
Taryn wrapped her arms around her chest and swallowed hard. She couldn’t imagine a scenario in which anything good came out of her working with the motel’s inner demons.
“Maybe it’s just a fluke,” she whispered to Miss Dixie. “Maybe I am just picking up random things and it doesn’t mean anything.”
For the time being, she would make herself believe that.
The back of the motel was in far worse shape than the front. From the back, she could see how the building had deteriorated over the years and really gone downhill. Management had obviously done nothing to keep up pretenses back there since nobody could see it from the road or parking lot.
The building was a square, with five rooms on each side for a grand total of twenty. The five that faced the back were the worst of the lot. The ones in front had at least been renovated in the past twenty years.
The back rooms, which seemed to house long-term residents when the motel was functioning, could only be entered from the courtyard, while visitors could drive up to their doors on the other fifteen. The motel had never had central heat and air installed and had relied on individual A/C units in the summertime. None of the units remained; Taryn had heard that vandals had stolen them for the copper and metal, which evidently fetched a good price if you didn’t mind taking the unit apart.
Still, although they were missing they’d left their marks behind. Literally. Over the years, runoff from the machines had dripped down from the windows, leaving a discolored stain in their trail. Plywood was still nailed into the walls and windows, a sign that the units hadn’t fit properly and the owner had simply patched up the empty space with whatever wood was handy. In some cases, the windows were missing or had been broken; ratty curtains billowed out from the empty rooms like emaciated arms beckoning passersby.
It was clear that the back had not been painted in many years. The wood back there was a crazy shade of yellow, almost orange in some places. Vines grew up the side of the building and, in some cases,
through
the building. Nature was slowly starting to take over as if to say, “Leave something unattended long enough and we’ll take it back!”
The grass was tall, wild, the weeds nearly up to Taryn’s waist. She took pictures of the roof and its many holes and unmatched patches, broken windows, vines, billowing curtains, and broken drainpipes. She stopped below a gutter that had an actual tree growing from it and stood, mesmerized, at just how quickly things could go downhill if someone wasn’t there to take care of them.
At last, she worked all the way around the square, taking pictures of the doors and exterior. By the time she finished, it was twilight and Aker was starting to look pointedly at his watch. She still hadn’t been inside a room, or inside the courtyard.
“Weather’s meant to be good tomorrow. Want to get an early start?” she asked as they both began packing up.
“That’s fine. So do you want to meet here at 7? 8?” he asked.
Taryn snorted. “Okay, when I said ‘early’ I really just meant before noon. How about 10?”
Aker nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll see you here at 10.”
Although they packed up at the same time and got in their cars in chorus, Taryn noted that he waited until she pulled out onto the main road before he left.
“
Oh
sweetie
, I’m so sorry,” Matt said softly.
Taryn, stretched out in a hot bubble bath, groaned. When Matt resorted to the traditional pet names, rather than the goofy ones he’d cooked up himself, like ‘my queen’ or something
Star Trek
oriented, she knew things were bad.
“We just know that it has grown,” she said, letting the hot water relax her muscles and take away some of the aches and pains. “The doctor didn’t say I was going to die tomorrow or anything.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked quietly.
Taryn could imagine Matt sitting in his living room, long legs outstretched before him, a Sci-Fi movie on low in the background. Knowing him, he’d probably cooked up something gourmet or had stopped and picked up Cajun on his way home from work–a far cry from the microwaveable macaroni and cheese that she’d had for dinner. She suddenly wanted to be there with him, snuggling in next to him and watching whatever apocalyptic movie he had on for entertainment.
As if he could read her mind, Matt asked, “Do you want me to come up there?”
Taryn hesitated and almost told him “yes” but then stopped.
“No, that’s okay,” she frowned at her stubborn pride. “I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’ve got this job to do and am already behind and you’ve got your students to deal with. I’ll be okay.”
“You want to talk about it?”
The fact that Matt, who could sometimes get lost in his head and not always empathize, was worried about her almost scared her more than what the doctor had told her. Matt had always had a sixth sense where she was concerned, even when they were kids. It made Taryn nervous.
“Not really,” she replied. “Not yet. I’m still processing, I think.”
“You want to tell me about the new job then?”
“Okay, do you know something I don’t? Like I’m going to kick the bucket tomorrow or something? Because you almost never ask me about the project,” she laughed.
“I just thought it might take your mind off it.”
So Taryn began telling him about the motel, going into the grisly details of the structure’s appearance and care. “To be honest, it’s kind of a mundane job,” she finished. “I mean, there’s nothing really interesting about the building, other than its history and my employer. The building itself is just your average roadside motel. Well, your average abandoned roadside motel. There are probably a thousand like them in the desert out west.”
“So you think it will be an easy job?” he asked tentatively. “No, well, you know…”
Taryn bit her lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked at my pictures yet.”
She wasn’t ready to tell him about the one in the break room. No reason to worry him any more than she already had.
“Why not?”
“Because maybe I’m afraid of what I’ll find?” It was a question more than a statement.
“You think there’s something there?” he pressed. Matt knew all about the things that had happened on her other jobs. Indeed, he had been there for some of the occurrences.
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen or felt anything but I know the stories. And once I…oh, it sounds silly.”
“No,” Matt urged her to continue. “It’s not silly. Once you what?”
“If there is something there then once I look at the pictures and see it then I’ll be a part of it,” she finished lamely. “And then I can’t turn back.”
“The jobs that need the most work seem to find you and pick you,” Matt said carefully. “Is that what you’re thinking? That perhaps this job called to you and if you delve into too far you’ll be caught up in something else again?”
“Yes!” Taryn all but shouted in agreement. Sometimes it felt really good to have someone in her life who totally “got” her.
“I know how that must make you feel,” he said. “I know how it makes me feel. I worry about you. I worry with each thing that happens that it’s going to be too much on you, that you’re going to buckle eventually. Not that you’re not strong but, well, there’s only so much a single person can stand.”
“Things have been so
good
lately,” Taryn said. “I’ve been so happy and peaceful. I don’t know that I am ready to rock that boat.”
As if in agreement, her bubbles began popping in clumps, leaving her in a murky film. Her water had lost its warmth.
T
aryn stood before Room #5
and observed it with interest.
There might have been twenty rooms at the Black Raven Inn, but only one of them was famous. Only one of them had seen the death of a celebrity.
She’d only been commissioned to paint this one.
The room didn’t look any different than the others from the outside. All the doors looked identical, with varying degrees of neglect, wear, and tear. There was nothing exceptional about Room #5 from where she stood.
Still, her fingers trembled slightly as she clutched Miss Dixie to her chest. If there was something inside the motel, it was in this room. This was the one the investigators were interested in, the one the paranormal fans had stumbled over themselves to stay in.
“I can’t turn back once I go inside,” she whispered to herself, lest Aker heard her and thought she was nutty.
Taryn was no stranger to the supernatural. She’d seen more than her fair share of haunted places, had been targeted by ghosts and other unexplainable forces. Yet, in most of those cases, she’d walked into the situation with blind eyes. The Black Raven Inn was different; it was known for being famous.
Despite the establishment’s rough reputation, the room never had any trouble finding visitors when it was open. Its famous occupant had garnered a cult following and many of those fans, some fellow musicians, had flocked to stay in the place where he’d taken his last breath. They’d even built a little shrine to him in the courtyard; Taryn was going to take a look at that next.
The paranormal investigators had come as well. They’d brought their video camera and EVP equipment and whatever else they used and attempted to make contact with the young man who hadn’t been able to resist the urges of the dark mistress who dealt him her fatal kiss.
Taryn knew all about those people, the ones who had ignored the drug deals and prostitutes and occasional domestic disputes so that they could stay in their fallen idol’s room.
“It would be like me staying in Graceland,” she said aloud, trying to put herself in a position of understanding.
And now, here she was, standing inches from the door itself. If the rumors were true, if the room was haunted, then she’d be exposing herself to something she might not be able to walk away from.
“Well,” she sighed with resignation. “Maybe he’s a friendly ghost anyway.”
The key clicked in the lock and she let herself in.