by H. P. Bayne
The Blake Ghost
H.P. Bayne
Copyright © 2020 by H.P. Bayne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover art by H.P. Bayne with art licensed through depositphotos.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Coming in April 2021
Afterword
About the Author
Also by H.P. Bayne
1
Wind howled outside the mall’s entrance, kicking up the fresh snowfall and temporarily obscuring the back half of the parking lot.
Sullivan “Sully” Gray pulled up his hood and hunched into his coat, maintaining a rapid shuffle behind his brother, Dez Braddock. At six and a half feet, Dez had the height to move him from one place to the next at a far quicker pace than the average human being. Sully stood a healthy six feet, but if Dez was in a hurry—such as when he was cold and wanting away from the mall as soon as possible—he was impossible to catch.
Dez made it to the SUV first, the engine already running, thanks to the built-in remote start. By the time Sully slid into the passenger seat, the vehicle was partway to warm.
Giving an exaggerated shudder, Dez voiced the obligatory “brrr,” then lowered a snow-flaked hood. Sully left his up for the moment, removing hands from his pockets only so he could blow on them.
“Where are your gloves?” Dez asked.
“I think I left them in my SUV.”
“Great, Sully. You know it’s winter, dummy.”
Though Sully didn’t turn to witness the eye-roll, he heard it in Dez’s tone. He had a retort planned but ditched it as Dez removed his own gloves and dropped them onto Sully’s lap.
That was Dez. Sully hadn’t been born a Braddock, but it was little more than semantics to the two of them. As far as they were concerned, they were blood. And as far as Sully was concerned, Dez was the best brother in the world. It had been that way when they were kids, and little had changed as adults.
Sully pulled the gloves on, enjoying the warmth inside left behind by Dez’s hands. He tucked them beneath the armpits of his coat, holding them there to make the heat last.
Dez reached over Sully and popped the glove compartment, where he placed the small bag from the jewellers they’d just left. After shutting the small door, he pointed from it to Sully.
“Don’t let me forget it’s in there.”
“Says the man who crapped on me for forgetting my gloves.”
“I didn’t crap on you. Not even close.” With his hand on the stick shift, he craned his head left and right, watching for a gap in traffic. Finally, he gave up. “I hate this day.”
“It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Your fault for leaving your shopping until the last minute.”
Dez backhanded him in the gut, drawing a combined groan and laugh from Sully. “Hey, I got plenty done beforehand. Eva’s ring just wasn’t done until today. And Kayleigh wanted that talking fur ball thing. What the hell kind of toy company releases something two days before Christmas, anyway?”
It was true. The electronic toy, whatever it was called, had been released only this morning, bringing a pre-dawn lineup from hell and pandemonium reminiscent of a Black Friday sale as soon as doors opened. Having heard Dez’s unfortunate plans for the morning, Sully had tagged along, suspecting his brother’s nerves would be frayed from the moment he got up to the second he got home. Sully figured he could both act as calming influence and run interference for Dez while he made for the toy stand. The thought turned out to be unnecessary, with Dez’s size working handily in his favour. While other shoppers clawed at each other, no one was fool enough to try swiping a toy from a man as large and angry-looking as Dez.
Even so, the whole episode had left Dez in a foul temper, and the traffic situation wasn’t helping.
“Want me to drive?” Sully asked.
Dez paused, ramrod straight, jaw clenched. Finally, all of him seemed to release. “Yeah, go for it.”
Sully reluctantly left the vehicle, passing Dez at the rear hatch as they traded spots. Once they were settled back into the SUV, Sully pushed the stick into reverse and turned to watch for coming traffic.
“Two more cars coming,” Dez said.
“I see them.”
“One the other direction now. Bloody hell, you’d think one of them would want our spot.”
Sully gave up for the time being, pushing the stick back into park and eyeing Dez.
“What are you doing?” Dez demanded.
Sully had a question of his own. “What’s going on with you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been miserable for the past couple of days—longer, if I’m any judge. I know you hate Christmas shopping, but—” The answer came to him before he finished voicing his previous thought. “Dez.”
“What?” Snappish this time, annoyed.
“It’s Dad and Aiden, right? You miss them.”
Dez glared at him for a long moment. Finally, he responded. “I always miss them, Sully.”
“I know, but it’s Christmas. It’s a bad time of year when you’re missing people. I get it. I feel the same way.”
Dez continued to stare, before finally breaking eye contact and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Every time I see those bloody soft drink or tissue commercials, I want to throw something through the TV.” He sighed. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for Eva and Kayleigh and Mom and you, but yeah, I miss Dad and Aiden. Sometimes I miss them so much it’s hard to breathe. I keep expecting time will make it better, but it doesn’t. Even when things seem to be going good for me, it’ll sneak up and hammer me over the head. And I’m right back to square one, back to how I felt after they died.”
Sully laid a hand on Dez’s shoulder. “I know, D. Same thing happens to me. It’s grief, and it’s natural.”
“I don’t care if it’s natural. I hate it. I want a Christmas like normal people have—with my whole family around me. All of them.”
“Lots of families don’t have the kind of normal you’re talking about. Loss is normal.”
“I don’t care about other families right now, okay? I care about us.”
Sully gave Dez’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know we can’t see them. But they’re here, Dez. They’re with us.”
Dez shook his head, a tear dripping down his face, onto his lap. “I used to feel them more. I don’t anymore. Hardly ever. It’s like they’re really gone now.”
Dez’s phone rang through the Bluetooth system, and Sully glanced away long enough to see who was calling. Lachlan’s name showed on the dashboard screen.
Dez heaved a pained sigh. “Come on. Now?”
Sully dropped his hand. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
Dez cleared his throat of lingering emotion, then gave a dry laugh. “When with Lachlan is it ever nothing?”
Several more vehicles were coming behind them, so Sully decided he might as well wait until they’d talked to Lachlan before attempting to back out again. Better to give the call his full attention if, God forbid, it was a job.
“Hey, Lachlan,” Dez said as he answered. “Please, don’t tell me there’s a job. We just cleared the last one, and it’s Chr
istmas.”
“I’m aware, Braddock. I promised you Christmas Eve through Boxing Day off. Today is none of those days.”
Sully met Dez’s eye and shrugged.
“So this is a one-day job, then?” Dez asked.
“Depends on your brother. He there? He’s not answering his phone.”
Sully pulled out his cellphone as Dez replied, “Yeah, he’s here.”
“Sorry, Lachlan,” Sully said. “It was loud in the stores, and I guess I didn’t hear it.”
“Finishing your shopping, huh?”
“Dez was. I got mine done weeks ago.”
Dez shoved him. “Smart ass. What’s the job?”
“Lady called. Wants to see Sully. I think you can guess why. Just go and talk to her, get the ball rolling. If you can’t wrap it today—as I’ve forewarned her—you can get back to it on the twenty-seventh. Got a pen? I’ll give you some details.”
Sully held back a sigh. Anytime anyone wanted to see him specifically, it was because of one thing.
They had a ghost problem.
Sully and Dez worked as private investigators for Lachlan’s firm, though their caseload had changed significantly since Sully’s abilities had made the news a while back. Sully had a unique skill not possessed by most PIs: he could see the ghosts of homicide victims. Lachlan was happy to capitalize on his ability. What Lachlan didn’t understand, however, was how it worked.
Ghost jobs weren’t like regular ones. You couldn’t go out, interview a client, do a little background research and leave things until you could get back to them. If Sully rolled up to a haunting, there was a solid possibility the ghost would recognize in him a chance at help. After that, he’d be plagued by the spirit until he figured out what they needed and got it for them. Show up at the client’s now, and Sully might be spending Christmas with his family plus one hanger-on.
Because it didn’t do to argue with Lachlan, he kept the thought to himself and dug out a notepad he’d taken to carrying with him when they were working or on call. “Ready when you are,” he said.
Lachlan launched into it. “Lady says she and her husband recently built a house, and now they’re plagued by a ghost. Her words, not mine. She said they’ll wake up in the night to the smell of smoke. They’ll search all through the place but won’t find anything. It’s enough to keep them up worrying, though. They’re about to have a baby, so she’s very worried.”
Sully considered this information. He’d heard of pregnancy sometimes bringing on paranormal activity, although he had no idea why. Sometimes, he imagined, ghosts got as excited about the idea of a coming baby as much as expectant parents did. Or maybe it was the added energy ghosts fed on. Then there was the matter of the new build. Could be if the property itself was haunted, the ghost didn’t like whatever had been placed there.
“Did they call the fire department or an electrician or something?” Dez asked. “Maybe there’s something burning in the walls they can’t see.”
“They’ve called the fire department, and an inspector checked the placed over in detail for hot spots. Nothing. What was interesting, though, was what the fire inspector told them. Apparently, a fire occurred on that very spot nearly twenty years ago. Fatal one too. Three people dead.”
Sully’s stopped scribbling at “three dead.” He knew. Knew without having to ask anything else.
Dez had yet to clue in. “What’s the location?”
“McCoy Falls, house on Juniper Crescent, number—”
“Twenty-seven,” Sully said.
He felt Dez’s eyes on him as Lachlan spat out, “How did you know?”
Sully lowered the notepad to his lap and pinched the spot between his eyes. Tension had built rapidly; a headache would hit him sooner rather than later.
“I used to live there,” he said. “It was my last foster home before the Braddocks took me in.”
Dez’s hand landed on his shoulder. When he next spoke, it wasn’t to Sully but to Lachlan. “We can’t take the job, boss.”
“Jeezus,” Lachlan said. “I hadn’t even thought about it. I called you right after I—bloody hell. It’s the Blakes’ address. Of course it is.” He heaved a sigh. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t think. I’ll call and let her know.”
“Wait.” The word was out of Sully’s mouth before he was even fully aware it was coming. He released the bridge of his nose and lifted his head to make himself better heard. “Is that all that’s happening? Just the smell?”
“Uh, no. There’s more. They’re seeing shadows, hearing noises. The lady—Lisa—she’s finding scratches and bruises on herself in the morning or after she steps out of the shower. Feels like someone’s watching her nearly all the time.
“One of the biggest problems for her is the strain it’s causing on their marriage. Her husband doesn’t believe in ghosts. He thinks there has to be a logical explanation for the smoky smell, and anything else she’s imagining.”
“Hard to imagine scratches and bruises,” Dez said.
“His explanation is that she’s doing it to herself without noticing. She’s worried her husband thinks she’s crazy or is headed that way. They had a big fight last night. She said she really wants someone to make it stop or, at the very least, to prove she isn’t nuts. But we don’t need to be the ones to take the job.”
“Yes, we do,” Sully said.
Dez’s hand dropped from his shoulder. “What? Why?”
Sully met his eye, speaking more to him than to Lachlan. “The Blakes are unfinished business for me. I’ve faced down everything else. The stuff they did, it’s never really left me. Anyway, I can’t ignore it if they’re hurting this woman, if they’re targeting her. I’ve got the power to stop them. I can’t ignore that.”
“Come on, Sully. Not every problem needs to be fixed by you.”
“Well, some problems can’t be fixed by anyone else. What if they get some paranormal investigator in there who doesn’t do anything but stir up more problems. They need help, and I don’t think anyone else can do it.”
Dez sighed, his only other response being exactly what Sully expected.
“Goddammit, Sully.”
2
McCoy Falls was established before the city of Kimotan Rapids had even existed. Located east of the city, the town was named for a waterfall along the north branch of the Kimotan River.
Many people dreamed about retiring to towns like McCoy Falls. The image of its main street was splashed across tourism pamphlets for the area, and it played host to popular festivals year-round. It’s picture-postcard aspect attracted people from all over the country who came to see the falls and stayed for all the other diversions smart community members and town leaders had created over the years.
Everyone loved McCoy Falls.
Everyone except Sully. He’d gone out of his way to avoid it, and he’d pulled it off for nearly twenty years.
That run ended as the town’s sign—McCoy Falls, Est. 1817—came into view ahead.
Sully cast a quick glance at Dez, reminding himself he wasn’t alone. “Hey, D?”
Dez turned and met his eye for the brief time Sully could manage before having to turn back to the road. Sully added nothing more, didn’t even know what he’d meant to say.
It didn’t matter. Dez proved he understood him anyway, giving a gentle pat to his leg. “I’m with you, bud.”
Sully released a breath, then sucked in another. Not long after he’d gone to stay with the Braddocks, his then-new mom had taken him to see a counsellor upon learning about the abuse he’d suffered in foster care. The counsellor had taught him a breathing technique to use when something triggered memories of what he’d been through. He cycled through it now, using breath to force a calm as he breached the town limits.
While en route, he’d briefly contemplated letting Dez drive but was now grateful he’d stayed behind the wheel. Here, he had some control. He could stop, turn around, keep going. It was in his hands.
He kept going.
&
nbsp; The trees, cliffs and old church steeples grew larger as Sully drew nearer. This town had proven homes could be carved anywhere, even into a landscape that railed against it. Good people lived in the wild beauty of McCoy Falls. He knew that, and he clung to it as he tried to suppress the stark knowledge the bad lived here too.
“How you doing?” Dez asked.
With no good way to answer, Sully settled on a shrug.
“This town is kind of a hole, isn’t it?”
The words from Dez, spoken at the start of the heavily touristed and charming main street currently awash in tasteful Christmas decorations, had Sully eyeing him.
“I mean, who wants to live like this?” Dez continued. “It looks like something out of one of those cheesy, made-for-TV Christmas movies. I’m waiting for some prissy couple to grab hands and skip down the street with big, dumb grins on their faces.”
Dez prattled on about the town, critiquing it endlessly as Sully steered through it. It took only moments to grasp the purpose behind Dez’s chatter.
When they were kids, whenever Sully was being tormented by a ghost who wouldn’t leave him alone, Dez hadn’t only allowed him to crawl into bed next to him. He’d lain there next to him, talking endlessly, telling stories until Sully finally relaxed against his chest and fell asleep. This was Dez finding a way to do the same thing as an adult.
A smile formed as he listened to Dez’s voice. He held onto the sound and the feeling until he turned onto the street leading to the site of his former foster home.
Because he had little memory of the area, he’d mapped out his path on his cellphone screen. He would have known Juniper Crescent lay ahead, even without the directions.
A creeping feeling had begun, the sensation he was drawing nearer to something dark. He’d rather face down the ghosts of murderers haunting death row than the Blakes. At least the murderers wouldn’t inflict him with anxiety and potential panic attacks.
