When the Dead Speak

by Bailey Bradford

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  When the Dead Speak

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-769-1

  ©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015

  Edited by Jess Bimberg and Rebecca Scott

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Southern Spirits

  WHEN THE DEAD SPEAK

  Bailey Bradford

  Book two in the Southern Spirits series

  The only way to stay alive is to listen when the dead speak…

  Sheriff Laine Stenley thinks he might just be losing his mind. Ever since he'd encountered the spirit of his friend's deceased mother, strange things have been happening. His sheriff's tin star keeps popping off, his Stetson tends to fly off his head at the most inconvenient times—and then there are the subtle caresses that remind him of a lover's touch… Something Laine has been without for years—since the violent murder of his partner—and figures to be without well into the future if he wants to retain his position as the sheriff in the small town of McKinton, Texas. Laine doesn't want to risk his career or his heart ever again, but he may not have a choice, not if he wants to stay alive.

  A man who listens to spirits, Severo has come to McKinton to deliver a message of danger. One look at the sexy sheriff and Severo finds himself in a different sort of danger. He's not ready to find a man who can claim him heart, soul, and body, but ready or not, the attraction that simmers between them is undeniable—and irresistible.

  Together, they will race against time, because something evil is coming to McKinton. Severo and Laine must learn to trust each other—and themselves— and listen when the dead speak.

  Dedication

  Losing a loved one hurts terribly. The ache might fade a little, but it never goes away. This book brought me comfort at a time of loss. I hope it brings you something special, too.

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Oprah: Harpo, Inc.

  Casper: Famous Studios, Harvey Comics

  Popsicle: Unilever

  Shiner: K. Spoetzl Brewery

  Dodge: Chrysler Group, LLC

  Syfy: NBC Universal

  Styrofoam: The DOW Chemical Company

  Chapter One

  “I’m losing my goddamned mind.” Sheriff Laine Stenley ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands until his scalp tingled with pain. A frustrated sigh slipped from his lips as he stared at the spinning tin star that denoted his position of sheriff, lying on the sidewalk because it had once again popped off. He released the grip on his hair and slapped the Stetson back on his head. Laine bent and picked up the star, grumbling as he pinned it back on, again. If he had one more run in with the dead, he might just pop an artery.

  “Morning, Sheriff.”

  The voice came from behind him and nearly gave Laine a heart attack. That would be one way to be done with this mess. He managed not to jump—barely—but he just knew the man behind him had to be able to hear his heart slamming against his ribs. And it is all that particular man’s fault!

  Laine turned slowly and glared at Ezekiel Mathers. If Mathers hadn’t unwittingly given Laine his introduction into the paranormal… But that wasn’t fair, and Laine knew it. It wasn’t Zeke’s fault his mama had decided to…hang around, so to speak, after she died. Not really.

  Zeke’s lips were tipped up in a smirk, and that just made Laine scowl even more. Beside Zeke, Brendon was giving Laine a scowl of his own. Brendon’s soft brown eyes were usually alight with laughter, and a softer emotion would gleam in them when he looked at his lover. The man was easygoing and kind, for the most part, but he never hesitated to call Laine—

  “Don’t be a dumbass, Laine.” Brendon rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder against his lover’s. “Zeke didn’t mean to startle you. It isn’t his fault you were daydreaming and didn’t hear us walking up behind you.”

  Zeke’s lips spread into a shit-eating grin and he arched one eyebrow at Laine. Laine pushed down the urge to snarl at the man—he was pretty sure that’s what Zeke wanted. Not that he and Zeke hated each other or anything. They just had a competitive friendship…that often seemed to border on combative. Laine wasn’t in the mood to trade insults today, though, so he just shook his head and glanced away from the teasing he saw in Zeke’s green eyes. He felt too old, too worn out and aching inside, to play their usual games right now.

  “Morning,” Laine mumbled, not looking at Zeke or Brendon as he stepped into the street to walk around them. He might be screwed up in the head, but he still was aware of the fact that Zeke was recovering from an attempt on his life. The cane the man had to use was another weight on Laine’s shoulders, a reminder that Laine hadn’t acted quickly enough, hadn’t been smart enough, to keep Zeke safe. It was a burden Laine felt shoving him down beneath the surface every time he tried to catch his breath.

  As he walked back to his office, Laine couldn’t help but wonder how much more he could take before he broke. God willing, he wouldn’t ever get an answer to that.

  Brendon watched the sheriff walk off, studying the defeated droop of his shoulders. Laine might seem fine to everyone else, but there were little tells, small nuances that one had to know to look for. Beside him, a low growl slipped from Zeke’s lips. Brendon, turned on and irritated at the same time, started to set his lover straight but stopped when he saw the teasing grin on Zeke’s face. He wasn’t quite able to bring himself to smile back, instead darting another worried glance at Laine’s retreating figure.

  “Something’s wrong with him.” Brendon pushed at the small of Zeke’s back.

  “I’ve been saying that since we met him, babe, but you refused to see it.” Zeke tossed in a look that all but said ‘Duh!’

  Brendon fought against a smile—he was not going to encourage Zeke. Not for this, anyway. He applied a little more pressure to Zeke’s back and looked up at him through his lashes. Sometimes that worked. “Go talk to him, please?�
�

  Zeke snorted and shook his head. “I know that look, and I don’t want to go talk to Stenley. What the hell am I gonna say to him? Let’s have an Oprah moment?”

  Brendon tried to cover his chuckle with a cough, not that he thought his lover was buying it. Time to try a different tack. “Then I guess I can go talk to him and you can hang around at the café or something so he doesn’t feel like we’re ganging up on him. Hopefully, it won’t take long.”

  Zeke studied him. Brendon knew what he was looking for, but he wouldn’t find it. Brendon wasn’t attracted to Laine—nor was Laine attracted to him. They were friends, plain and simple, and he’d really like for his lover and his friend to get along. Somehow, Brendon doubted Laine had many close friends.

  He knew the second Zeke gave in by the way his brilliant green eyes seemed to turn a darker shade—and the resigned sigh that pushed from his lover’s lungs was a dead giveaway, too. “All right, I’ll go talk to the man, but why you think he’d tell me anything…” Zeke shook his head and gave Brendon’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’m only doing this because I love you.”

  Brendon wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around Zeke and kiss him until they were both breathless, but the small town of McKinton, Texas was not that tolerant. At least, he didn’t think the folks here were, and wasn’t willing to bet their lives on it. He settled for letting his hand trail down Zeke’s arm, brushing the hand on the cane with his fingertips.

  “Thank you. I love you too.” Then Brendon couldn’t help himself—he leaned over and whispered into his lover’s ear, “But you know you’re worried about him, too.”

  Zeke opened his mouth for what Brendon assumed was a denial. He didn’t know which of them were more stunned with what actually came out.

  “Yeah, I am.” Zeke snapped his mouth shut and turned to follow Laine.

  Zeke managed to get the door open without dropping his cane, something he seemed to have trouble with for some reason. He glanced up at Doreen’s excited squeal, the sound nearly puncturing his eardrums. Doreen never squealed, not that he’d ever heard before. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, even if it did warm his insides. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that not everyone in this small town hated him.

  “Ezekiel Mathers! It’s about time you stopped in to say hi!” Doreen was up and had an arm around his waist before Zeke could protest that he didn’t need the help. When her other arm came around him and Zeke comprehended the fact that Doreen was hugging him rather than trying to help him limp along, he was glad he hadn’t snapped at her.

  “I’m so glad to see you!” Doreen leaned back as Zeke patted her awkwardly on the back. “You look pretty good, Zeke.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows at him and Zeke thought he’d stepped into an alternate universe. Doreen was a lot of things—tough, determined, female—but he surely couldn’t remember her being this much of a flirt. Then again, hadn’t he learnt that he didn’t know the people of this small town as well as he thought he did?

  “You’re looking good yourself.” Zeke winked at her and immediately felt himself blushing. He cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “Is Sheriff Stenley busy?” Suddenly, the idea of talking to Laine didn’t seem as intimidating as staying out here with Doreen.

  Doreen laughed and released him, mostly. She held on to his free hand and tugged him along behind her. “Sure, Sheriff Stenley is available. He’s probably not doing anything other than sitting in his office brooding.” Doreen glanced back at him, a troubled look on her face as she stopped walking. “You know”—she shot a glance at the sheriff’s closed door, her voice dropping to a whisper—“he feels responsible for what happened to you. I think it’s been eating at him.”

  Zeke felt sucker punched, and not a little confused. He’d had no idea Laine felt that way. “Why should he feel responsible? He wasn’t driving that car. For that matter, if I’d filed charges on Eva sooner, she wouldn’t have been out on the loose and I wouldn’t be standing here holding a cane.” That was a truth he had to live with, his own bundle of anger and guilt that Brendon refused to let him get bogged down in. But who did Laine have to help him?

  Shaking her head, Doreen clucked her tongue. “It wasn’t neither of you boys’ fault.”

  Zeke wasn’t even going to protest being called a boy. Doreen would ream him a new one if he did.

  “The only one at fault was that sister of yours. Not to offend, but Eva was never quite right in the head, Zeke.”

  Considering Eva had tried to have him murdered, had poisoned a good chunk of his cattle, threatened his lover, then run Zeke down with her car, nearly killing him—and that was the abbreviated list of what she’d done—Zeke had to agree. He realized Doreen was looking at him, waiting for something. A light clicked on in his head.

  “I’ll make sure he knows I don’t hold him responsible. Neither does Brendon.” Zeke’s skin grew warm when he mentioned his lover. He was still very cautious, wary about how people would react, having been a victim of hate crimes more than once. But Doreen knew, and she hadn’t judged. Her smile was toothy but genuine and it eased a knot of tension coiled inside Zeke.

  “I’d appreciate it, Zeke. He’s a good man, and so are you.” Doreen turned and hurried to Stenley’s door, tapping firmly on the wooden frame. She opened it and poked her head in when Laine called out. “Got a visitor.”

  Zeke stepped up behind her and grinned. The fact Laine didn’t groan, didn’t glare or make any cutting remark, joking or otherwise, wiped the grin away. Brendon was right, and maybe Doreen was, too, but that flat gray stare Laine gave Zeke told him that there was more going on than Laine feeling guilty. It told Zeke that Laine was balanced on an edge, and close to tipping over the side. Zeke stepped into the room, murmuring his thanks to Doreen before she skittered off, and locked the door behind him.

  Laine watched Zeke make his way over to the chair across from his desk and didn’t even try to squelch down the guilt he felt as he studied the man’s stiff movements. Zeke had come a long way in the months following Eva’s attempt to murder him, but he’d always have scars—more on the inside than the outside, Laine would bet.

  Zeke sat and propped his cane against the side of the chair. Laine forced himself to meet Zeke’s eyes, something he hadn’t been able to do for longer than a handful of seconds earlier. If he had, then they wouldn’t have been having this little tête-à-tête, forced on them both by Brendon. Laine knew Zeke wouldn’t have come in here without some serious encouragement from his lover. God only knew what Brendon had to threaten…or promise.

  The silence was uncomfortable, but Laine didn’t know what to say. He’d used silence before when questioning suspects and wouldn’t have ever thought to be bothered by it, yet it took all of his willpower not to squirm in his seat under Zeke’s penetrating gaze. He couldn’t see a trace of the sarcasm Zeke usually wore like a second skin, at least when it came to Laine, but Laine was waiting for it. It was the way things always were between them. When Zeke finally let loose with his opening volley, Laine’s eyes shot wide with surprise.

  “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” Zeke’s voice was soft and gravelly, a hint of embarrassment evident in the tone. Laine wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. He didn’t feel a hint of embarrassment, he felt a damn dump truck load of it.

  “Christ,” Laine muttered, dipping his head down and rubbing his forehead with both hands. He immediately regretted the action, knowing it showed Zeke more than Laine wanted him to see. He peeked around one of his wrists and saw Zeke frowning at him. Laine looked longingly at his door, then his radio. What he wouldn’t give for there to be an emergency call right now, nothing major, even a cat stuck in a tree would get him out of this farce of a heart-to-heart chat. Maybe the phone would ring…

  “I think you’re stuck with me.” Zeke’s amused voice had Laine shutting his eyes against a newly erupting pounding in his temple. He dropped one hand down on top of the desk, wishing he didn’t always keep th
e surface so neat so he’d have something to fiddle with. Laine rubbed at the throbbing pain in his head with the other, giving Zeke a measuring glance.

  “No, not really. You can just head on back and tell Brendon that I’m fine.” Laine held his breath, waiting for Zeke’s answer.

  “I don’t think so, Laine.” Zeke shook his head slowly, once, twice, then pinned Laine with a sharp look. “I’m not going to lie to my lover for you.”

  Laine let out a pent-up breath, irritation taking place of his normally cool disposition. “Fine. Then tell him I said I’m fine!” That way, it’d be Laine telling the lie, because he so was not fine. He watched Zeke work past anger and cringed when he saw sympathy in the man’s expression.

  Zeke leaned forward. “Laine…”

  “Zeke?” Laine managed, just barely, to keep from snarling. He didn’t need this man in particular or anyone else in general feeling sorry for him. “You can leave.” It wasn’t an offer, more of an order, and about as polite as Laine could get it out.

  Zeke wasn’t intimidated at all. Laine wondered why he even bothered to try to get the man to back down. It hadn’t been successful before, had it? Brendon would call him a dumbass again, if he were in here.

  No, instead, Zeke moved closer, elbows braced on the desk and couching his chin in his hands, framing his face with long, tanned fingers.

  Laine slumped back in his chair, the fight going out of him in the blink of an eye. “What do you want, Zeke? What do you want me to say?”

  Zeke shrugged, jostling his head. “How would I know? I don’t know anything about this male bonding crap.”

  Lips twitching despite his surly mood, Laine brought his other hand to the desktop. “Then if I say there’s nothing to say…” Maybe there was a chance to get out of this yet.