Dark Hollow Road (Taryn's Camera Book 3) by Rebecca Patrick-Howard Read Free Book Online Page B

cartons he’d lined out on the counter. “About a half-mile maybe? Not as far as I thought I’d gone at first. And the house is an old farmhouse, empty. Looks like it’s been that way for a long time. And the noise was definitely a scream. Or a shout. But something of that nature.”
    She waited while he fixed himself a plate and then they traipsed into the dining room. He’d already poured glasses of wine and they were waiting on the table. “Oh, man,” she apologized, realizing the trouble he’d gone to. “Sorry about making you wait. I actually thought I’d beat you back here.”
    “Don’t worry about it. So the scream or shout… male? Female? Age?”
    She hadn’t realized how famished she was until she took the first bite and then she didn’t want to stop. “Don’t know,” she shrugged, trying not to talk with her mouth full but unwilling to slow down. “A woman if I had to bet money.”
    “Scared?”
    “Maybe. Same as before.”
    Matt gazed down at his spring rolls and noodles and contemplated. “If the house is old then there’s the chance something could’ve happened there. That might explain what we’ve been hearing here.”
    She nodded, took a sip of wine. “Yeah, I thought about that. I wonder what it means, though.”
    “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”
    Taryn sighed and downed the rest of her wine. “You mean you think maybe–”
    “That maybe you’re just going to have to accept the fact you’re tuned in to these things now, and they’re going to be on your radar. Or you’re going to be on theirs, depending on how you look at it. Not everything is going to mean you have to do something about it.”
    “Yeah, I get what you’re throwing down,” Taryn smiled.
    “Are we gangster now?” Matt laughed, his eyes bright and warm.
    “Just making sure you’re still paying attention.”
    “The man on the beach last month…” He let his voice trail off, and Taryn lost herself in the memory. It was sunset and they’d been on Ormond Beach, taking a walk. She preferred that stretch of sand because it was rarely crowded, almost dead in the late fall, and it was a place where she could stroll and get her feet in the sand without stepping on anyone, or any thing , like a beer bottle.
    Matt had walked beside her, the wind whipping his hair and throwing it in his eyes. He’d been humming that Kenny Chesney song about the summer romance, the line about Mary liking to carry her shoes in her hand to feel the sand under her feet. Between the pleasant sound of his singing and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore she’d felt peaceful, despite the chill.
    It had been a good moment, all in all. Then there’d been a man up ahead of them. His back was to them and he was staring at the water. Nothing unusual about him. Taryn had instantly felt for him though, the way his shoulders slumped and the distant look on his face as he watched the waves. Matt didn’t seem to notice him. They were within fifty feet of the stranger when she’d looked over at Matt to say something, make some joke. Then, when she looked back, the man was gone. She hadn’t seen him disappear; one minute he’d been there and the next minute he hadn’t.
    “That time it didn’t mean anything, probably,” she agreed. “I never saw him again, he didn’t say anything to me. It was just a moment.”
    “And you will probably have more of them,” he concluded.
    Taryn thought about his, mulled it around her head. “Yeah, but you didn’t see the guy. And you heard or felt something here. That might mean something,” she pointed out at last.
    “It might,” Matt agreed. “But until it does, let’s try not to make a big deal out of it and just enjoy ourselves.”
     

     
     
    T aryn intended on enjoying herself. She enjoyed her dinner, her extra glass of wine, the nice long bubble bath she took while Matt cleaned up (hey, he insisted and she wasn’t going to argue), and even enjoyed putting her notes