Griffith Tavern (Taryn's Camera Book 2) by Rebecca Patrick-Howard Read Free Book Online Page A

Landon Crossing. Indeed, many improvements were made to the tavern during her reign. In 1981, a handful of gold coins were discovered outside when new electric poles were installed. However, it is assumed that the “buried treasure” story is merely that–a story. The tavern did go through droughts in which Permelia had to sell many belongings and even release employees, such as the stable manager and head cook, so it’s doubtful she had a fortune buried away.
     
    Knowing more about it, and the people who had lived there, made her sad. It always did. The tavern was once a vibrant, lively hub of excitement and activity for the town. Now it was basically being reduced to a pile of bricks in the middle of a field. And the buried treasure? Fascinating idea. She was disappointed to learn there was probably nothing to it.
     

     
    H er room was chilly when she returned to it. The furnace by the window was warm to the touch; there wasn’t a reason why it should have been so cold. Taryn shrugged on her flannel robe and grabbed a pair of fleece socks from her dresser drawer. That helped a little.
    Despite her misgivings about staying in a place that doubled as a private residence, she had to admit her room was cozy. The bed boasted a real quilt and patterned pillow cases, not the white ones a laundry service would just continue to bleach until the fell apart. The flatscreen television was new and modern and carried more than one hundred channels. The dresser and nightstand were antique and not massed produce pressed-wood, over-priced items from a chain store. She also appreciated the hooked rugs and brocade curtains. She’d peeked into all the other rooms and each one had a different look and design to it–no cookie cutter style here. 
    Standing in the middle of the floor and looking around, though, had her scratching her head. She was almost sure she’d left Miss Dixie on her bed. But, there she was, resting on the dresser. And her laptop, which had been closed and turned off when she went downstairs, was now open and booted up. She highly doubted Delphina would’ve come in and disturbed anything. The woman was about as quiet and reserved as a mouse, almost timid. She’d barely said a word to Taryn since she’d been there and was even shy about entering the room and cleaning.
    The room was growing colder by the moment. The cold air didn’t have a source she could find. Instead, it seemed to be coming from every direction. Taryn felt a full-body chill, from her toes to her scalp, and shuddered in its wake. She watched in fascination as she puffed out her breath and watched it hang in the air, a little cloud that slowly dissipated.
    Something wasn’t right.
    Pulling the robe tighter, she walked over to Miss Dixie and picked her up. The camera felt like ice. She clutched it tightly in her hand, but it was so cold it burned her fingers. She hoped there wasn’t anything wrong with the heat. It would be a pain in the ass to have to pack everything up and move to another room. With her teeth chattering and her hands shaking, she turned Miss Dixie on and aimed her camera first at the bed and then at the center of the room. Each flash cut through the cold air like a knife, leaving a ray of warmth in its wake. Taryn held out her hand, feeling the warm air dissolve as it was overtaken by the cold. This was no furnace problem.
    “Hello?” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Who’s here? What do you want?”
    The quietness was mocking, unsettling. Somewhere far away was the sound of something hitting the floor, a thud. Taryn jumped.
    Shaking her head, she walked over to her laptop and inserted the memory card. Seconds later, her first picture popped up on the screen. Taryn gasped, not surprise at what she was seeing, but still taken aback. Where her four poster mahogany bed should’ve been there was an armoire. It was partly open, revealing a shirt sleeve. Her dresser was gone as well, a small youth sized be replacing it.