Read Jekyll Island: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 5) for Free Online

where you could.
    To reach the beach Taryn had to walk through a heavily wooded area. The narrow sandy path took her through a thick mess of trees, vines, and shrubs while mosquitoes and sand gnats flew around her head. She could barely see the ground for the undergrowth and had there not been a path there was no way she’d have been able to walk through the thicket. It looked like a jungle and for the first time since arriving Taryn had a better idea of what the original settlers might have been up against. She tried to imagine landing on the island and being met by the dense vegetation and sweltering heat, the mosquitoes swarming their heads and the fire ants below.
    Had it looked like a paradise then, or hell?
    Taryn was panting and swiping at the sweat burning her eyes when the trees opened up. Before her lay the Atlantic, wide and calm with just a hint of blue. A barge floated peacefully in the distance, its massive size barely a blip on the horizon. Straight in front of her, though, was something unlike anything she’d ever seen.
    When she heard the word “driftwood” she expected logs, sticks, and pieces big enough to pick up. What she saw were the size of vehicles. It was as if entire trees had washed ashore and landed naked on the sand, creating a skeletal jungle. Their bare branches protruded upwards like emaciated arms reaching for the sky. They rose and twisted in impossible shapes, each one its own work of art, the shadows they left across the sand an intricate board game that made her feel like Alice in Wonderland.
    Taryn walked amongst the monsters, stopping to examine tide pools and watch the dozens of sand crabs scurrying from her probing lens. When she got too hot she peeled off her tank top and walked around with her bathing suit sticking out of her shorts.
    The beach was almost deserted. Although there were a few stragglers picking up shells and wading in the water, they were on the far end and nowhere near Taryn. She thought she had her part of the beach to herself so when a shadow loomed over her while she knelt to get a shot of tube worms covered in tiny shells, she flinched in surprise.
    “Sorry to scare you!”
    Taryn quickly rose to her feet and turned around. An elderly woman with a fanny pack and Birkenstocks stood facing her. “You kind of sneaked up on me there,” Taryn laughed a little. Where in the world had she come from? Taryn could’ve sworn she wasn’t there just a minute ago.
    “I just wanted to ask you what kind of camera you were using,” the woman said. “I’m in the business for a new one myself.”
    “Oh,” Taryn replied, removing Miss Dixie from her neck. “Well, you can take a look if you want.”
    She didn’t normally like anyone touching something so personal of hers but there was something about the woman that Taryn couldn’t quite put her finger on, something familiar.
    For several minutes the women talked about photography and their respective cameras. “I just doodle around myself,” the woman said, handing Miss Dixie back to her. “I like nature photography. It gives me something to do. I don’t have a lot to do these days.”
    “Do you come out here very often?” Taryn asked.
    The woman looked out at the water and Taryn watched as her eyes glazed over. Although her face was craggy with lines and her hair brittle and sparse, her eyes were ocean blue and for a second Taryn thought she could almost see a glimpse of the beautiful young woman she used to be.
    “I come when I can,” she replied at last and offered nothing more.
    “It’s a beautiful beach,” Taryn said politely. “I want to try to come back at sunrise one day and get some more shots.”
    “Just don’t stay out too late or you might see Mary,” the woman warned her.
    “Who’s Mary?”
    “Why, she’s one of our resident ghosts,” the woman replied with a small smile. “She haunts this beach, and the beach on St. Simon’s as well, if that can be believed.”
    “What’s her