High Noon (Between the Veils Series, Book Two)

High Noon

A
Between the Veils
Story

By Kris Norris

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

High Noon
Copyright © 2012 Kris Norris
Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman
Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-599-1

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: October 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To all the paranormal investigators, who dare to look for something beyond our worldly constraints. May you give peace to those who have gone before us.

To my mom, who visits me in my dreams when I need her the most.

And as always, to Chris…thank you for your guidance and friendship. Without you I would truly be lost.

Chapter One

“Oh, for the love of god.”

Blake Smith rolled across the bed, reaching for the cell as the damn thing blared in the silence. The music mixed with the hum of the phone as it vibrated on the table. He glanced at the clock, only catching the first number as he swiped his finger across the screen.

“Damn it, Avery, if your secluded little hideaway is haunted, I seriously don’t give a shit…even less at four AM.”

Static hissed on the other end, and he pulled the phone away, ready to hang up when a voice crackled through the noise.

Blake sighed, putting the phone to his ear again. “You’re breaking up. I didn’t catch any of that.”

“Avery?”

He frowned. No one ever got their cells mixed up. “It’s Blake.”

“Blake? Avery’s little brother?”

“The very same.” He resisted adding that he was twenty-nine…hardly
little
anymore.

“But I called Avery’s work number and the website says he’s available twenty-four-seven.”

He cursed under his breath. “We’re closed for a couple of weeks, so I assume my brother forwarded the work phone to my cell.” Of course it would have been nice if Avery had let him in on that bit of information, though Blake had to admit, Avery had been more than distracted by Temperance, and their shotgun wedding plans. Maybe his brother deserved a bit of slack…this one time.

“Closed? But, you can’t be. Avery’s the only one I trust and thought might be able to help me and—”

“Wow. Slow down. You do know Avery’s a paranormal investigator, right? That’s usually not a life and death situation.”

“I know what he does, damn it. Why do you think I’m calling him?”

“Sweetheart, it’s four AM. Right now, I’m not sure I’m even having a real conversation.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, pulling the phone back slightly to look at the screen.
Call from P. Scott
glared at him in the darkness. The name tweaked something, but he was too damn tired to figure it out.

“I assure you, I’m real.”

“Either way, Avery is…unavailable, so whatever you need with him will just have to wait until he gets back, Ms…”

A moment of silence greeted his question, followed by a weary sigh. “It’s Payton. I’m not sure if you remember me, but…”

Her words faded into background noise as her name flashed memories in his mind. Long, blonde hair with eyes the color of cool water, she’d been his first crush—and Avery’s first serious girlfriend. They’d dated for over a year before her father had uprooted her family and moved them out east. Blake had lost track of the number of times he’d been forced to sit beside her, breathing in her flowery scent, listening to her laugh only to have her leave with Avery. She’d been in Blake’s class, but she hadn’t seemed to notice him beyond being Avery’s little brother.

He huffed out a rough breath. Seems things hadn’t changed much.

“Blake…are you still there?”

He blinked away the images, muttering a curt
yeah
. Damn, she sounded sexier than ever. It’d been a dozen years, yet just the thought of her brought back familiar feelings—feelings he realized he hadn’t felt for anyone since.

She breathed into the phone, the whispered rasp sending shivers down his spine. Conflicting emotions warred inside him and he tried to remind himself that she’d called to talk to Avery.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Shit. Like he’d ever truly forgotten. “I remember you, Payton. Blonde, pretty, smart…we were in a lot of the same classes, though I doubt you ever noticed.”

“I noticed. You were the strong silent type.” She laughed. “I’ve never known a star quarterback who didn’t hang out with the popular kids other than you. I also remember that you liked to take things apart and put them back together, only…different. Improved, I guess.”

“They were a bit too into themselves for me. And my parents never thought my inventions were improved.”

She chuckled, though it was strained. “So is Avery really unavailable?”

“Unless you feel like driving to Montana and searching every cabin between the state line and the Canadian border he is.”

“Montana? What the hell is he doing in Montana?”

“Actually, he’s on his honeymoon. They got married in Vegas, but after a few spirit-filled days at the hotel, he and Temperance decided to go somewhere less likely to be inhabited by apparitions.”

“Married? Bloody hell, of all the times for him to fall in love, he chooses now.”

“Yes, Payton. He fell in love just to inconvenience you.”

She sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

A hushed sob echoed through more static, the sound settling like a cold fist in Blake’s chest. The Payton he remembered had been a wildcat. Not the type to break down over something trivial.

He sat up, switching on the small lamp beside the bed. He squinted at the sudden flash of light, glancing around the room, half expecting to see her standing there. “Payton? Is everything okay?”

She drew a shuddering breath. “I just didn’t know who else to call…who else would believe me.”

“Believe what?”

A hysterical laugh sounded in his ear. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“You dated my brother. Trust me, nothing is crazier than that.”

Her chuckle was more genuine this time and he could imagine her smiling on the other end.

“You haven’t changed much.”

“You’d be surprised. Now what the hell made you call up Avery in the middle of the night after twelve years?”

Her breath caught ever so slightly. “Ghosts.”

Blake cursed. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. “Go on.”

“I know this sounds insane, but…they won’t leave me alone. I’ve tried everything—nothing’s working and I’m supposed to open in a couple of weeks and—”

“Payton, sweetheart, slow down. My brain is running about twenty words behind yours.” He ran a hand through his hair. This was Avery’s department, not his. He showed up, made the necessary equipment and called it a day. He didn’t hunt—not in the true sense of the word. “Okay, so your place—”

“Not just my place, Blake. They follow me everywhere—my bedroom, my car. Hell, around the whole fucking town.”

He took a calming breath. He wasn’t near awake enough to be having this conversation. “Okay.
You’re
being haunted. So why not move somewhere else—another town maybe?”

Her irritated huff told him everything. “I can’t just leave! I’ve invested every penny I own into making this gallery a success. It’s all I have.”

“So what, exactly, were you hoping Avery could do for you? We’re investigators, not
Ghost Busters
. We can’t trap spirits and take them away.”

“Maybe not, but I’m familiar with his reputation, and how he’s helped other people with their…
problems
. I thought he might be able to ask the ghosts to leave or figure out a way to help them cross over or something.”

Blake chuckled, more out of irony than anything else. Why everyone thought Avery had this intimate connection with every apparition he encountered was beyond him. The guy was good, but spirits tended to do as they wished. “Whether that’s true or not is kind of a moot point. I couldn’t reach him if I wanted to. He made that point extremely clear. And to be honest, he and Temperance need some time alone—without ghosts or demons trying to kill them.”

“So you’re telling me I’m screwed. That all the work I’ve done over the past several months is for nothing.”

“Not nothing…damn it. Where are you?”

She inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I said, where are you? What town did you move to that has more dead living in it than people?”

“Virginia City—”

“Nevada? Jesus Christ, Payton, what were you thinking? Virginia City is ranked one of the top three most haunted cities in America, not to mention the world. That place is crawling with unhappy spirits just looking for someone to torment.” He palmed his face as he closed his eyes. Of all the towns for her to reside in, it had to be Virginia City—the one place he really shouldn’t go back to. “Why doesn’t anyone ever check this shit out beforehand?”

“Maybe because most of us don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve changed your mind.”

“Just for the record, you’re not helping.”

The broken quality of her voice struck a nerve and he groaned, all too aware he really didn’t have a choice. Despite the years and the fact she’d never seemed interested in him, he couldn’t just sit there knowing she was in trouble without offering to help—even if it meant returning to Virginia City. He sighed in defeat as he yanked back the covers and swung his feet off the bed. “Text me your address.”

She coughed as if caught in the midst of swallowing. “My address?”

“Virginia City’s small, sweetheart, but not that small. I’ll need your address to find you.”

Something crashed on the other end and he smiled, knowing she’d dropped her cell.

A moment later, a rough breath hissed across the line. “You’re coming? But I thought Avery was the man behind Smith Investigations?”

“We’re partners. I just prefer to stay ‘behind the scenes’ unless it’s warranted. And from what you’re saying, it’s warranted.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Unless you’d rather wait for Avery?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just…I didn’t think you’d…I mean, we never…”

Her voice trailed off, leaving a strange void in its place. His jaw tensed at her words, the truth of them hitting him hard in the gut. Now was not the time he needed to be reminded that they’d never done anything. Ever. “Then it’s settled. Luckily for you, I haven’t unpacked my truck yet, so I’m pretty much ready to go. I’ll toss some clothes in a bag and head out. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, and Blake—thank you.”

He mumbled a token reply as he hung up the phone, staring at it as if it held the answers to the questions swimming around his head. He’d just volunteered to drive twelve hours across the county to a small ghost-infested town, all because one of his brother’s ex-girlfriends needed help. Had he gone completely insane?

“She wasn’t even my girlfriend. Damn, I need a career change…and a full psych evaluation when I get back.”

* * * *

Payton paced the length of the room, pausing every other pass to glance out the window. Blake had called from a truck stop somewhere north of Vegas to tell her he’d be there in a few hours, but she hadn’t heard a word since then. And a part of her was scared he’d come to his senses and headed back to Phoenix. Hell, she’d doubted Avery would help her out, let alone Blake. After all, the only history they’d shared had involved Avery.

The thought roiled nervous butterflies through her stomach. Blake Smith was about to walk through her door. After all these years. She cursed the unconscious reaction of her body. The way her cheeks heated and her breathing quickened. Though they’d never dated, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t harbored feelings for him. In hindsight, he was one of the reasons she and Avery hadn’t been able to take their relationship to the next level. She’d had a crush on his brother, even though Blake had seemed too preoccupied with football and school to notice girls. She couldn’t remember him ever dating anyone, let along getting serious.