“Yeah, yeah, I was doing that right now.”
Doreen walked into his office with his cup of coffee in her hand and looked around. “Who are you talking to and what were you going to do?”
“Myself, obviously. Nobody else is here, now, are they?” Laine gestured for his coffee and Doreen stepped up to his desk, placing the cup in front of him.
“Well, I was going to ask if you were okay, what with the big hullabaloo at your place yesterday, but you seem just fine to—” Doreen’s eyes shot wide open as Laine’s tin star popped off and landed on the desk, spinning like a dervish. Laine was a bit surprised himself—the star had always landed on the floor despite his best efforts to stop it. If he had to guess, he’d say someone was sending him a message to make the call, especially since Detective Montoya’s message was now spinning around on his desk, too.
“What…what?” Doreen’s mouth was doing a fine imitation of a goldfish, and Laine knew if he let out so much as a snicker she would lay into him once she recovered herself. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer though, not with her arms flapping in the air and that look on her face. Laine reached out and snagged the paper, surprised that, for once, the object he was trying to grab didn’t spin away. Maybe he could grab the star, too… It skidded off the desk and resumed spinning on the floor.
“Damn.” Laine bit his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, but it stopped him from laughing. “Doreen, I really need to make a phone call or I’ll never get that back.” He gestured to the silver blur on the floor. “If you’ll excuse me?”
Doreen’s mouth snapped shut and she went from being astounded to sarcastic just as quickly. “Well, if you ask me, you need to call an exorcist or those guys who hunt down ghosts on TV.” She nodded once then turned smartly on her heel and left.
“You about done now that you freaked out Doreen?” The star stopped spinning immediately. “Cute. Conner…” Laine closed his eyes and tried to picture the man he’d loved. “I am sorry. And I hope it’s, that you… I guess I’m wanting to say that I hope it’s okay with you, about Severo, because I think that—” Was it stupid to admit such a thing to your former lover? No, to your deceased lover’s ghost? Probably, Laine decided, but what the hell. This whole thing was crazy. “I think that I can love the guy, you know? Maybe I’ve already started to. You and me, we tried to keep it quiet. We couldn’t, or wouldn’t, risk stepping out of the closet for each other, but we should have. We should have loved each other that much, right?”
What felt like the brush of a hand across his cheek, followed by the lightest touch of lips was the response. Laine kept his eyes closed, thinking over what those two things meant and decided it had to be good. Then his hat was tipped back on his head and Laine got the message. Enough mushy crap, make the damn call. Laine opened his eyes and picked up the phone.
“Gotcha, buddy, doing it right now.”
Montoya didn’t answer his work phone so Laine tried his cell, unsurprised when the detective answered on the second ring, still as annoyingly perky in the morning as he had been when Laine was partnered with him.
“Hey, Laine, how’s everything going?”
“Well, to tell you—”
“Must be going to shit since this is the third call from you in about as many days, right? After not hearing from you for a couple of years?”
“Shit.” Which was pretty much how Laine felt. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. And the man still sounded perky. “Rich, I couldn’t stay there after… It was just too…”
“Too much to find your lover dead?” That comment got Laine’s eyes opened back up. He shouldn’t have been surprised that his former partner knew, but Montoya had never said a word—and Laine had left without explaining, unable to pretend Conner hadn’t been more than a friend, and unable, or unwilling, to step up and say just what Conner had been to him.
Whatever it was that had kept Laine silent years ago no longer bound him. “Yes. Too much, and I think…I think it may be happening again.”
At first, he thought Montoya had hung up on him, but Laine began hearing background noises, the sound of a car door slamming shut, then a slow exhalation from his former partner. “You’re going to have to explain that to me, Laine. We need to sit down and have a serious talk.”
“Rich, I know I should have—” Laine stopped as an obnoxious beeping sounded in his ear. Did Rich hang up, or had he hit a spot where he got bad reception? Laine started to call him back but stopped when someone knocked on his door. “Come in.”
Deputy Matt Nixon opened the door and stepped in, pushing the door shut behind him. “Sheriff, I sent off everything like you asked, but…” Nixon pulled a chair closer to Laine’s desk and sat, looking at his hands where they rested folded between his knees. When he looked up at Laine, the understanding in his blue eyes sent a trickle of adrenaline-laced sweat down Laine’s spine. “I didn’t exactly explain the situation, you know? I mean, I didn’t lie, or do anything that would jeopardize the case once we catch this guy and he goes to trial. I just didn’t say anything or put anything in the report that could, you know.”
Laine did know. “Matt… I’m not going to keep this a secret. I did that before, when I was with Houston PD, and it was—” It was what? How could he describe it? Laine shook his head. “It was fucked up, okay? I won’t do it again.”
Matt narrowed his eyes as he studied Laine. “You know that there’ll be some people that will want you out of office, and I have no desire to fill your position. Are you ready to deal with the fallout from this?”
“‘From this?’” Anger speared through Laine as he pushed away from the desk and stood. He slapped his palms down on the desk and glared at Nixon as he spoke. “Why the hell should I have to make a choice here? I know about reality, and I know that the last time I kept everything quiet and hidden away, it didn’t make a damn bit of difference! Someone knew, and that person killed my lover!” Laine forced out the words that were twisting his insides. “And I have to live with the fact that maybe, maybe if I hadn’t been too much of a coward to speak up and stop hiding who I was, Conner would still be alive today. I won’t do that again, not for this job, not for my pride, not for any reason. If you have a problem with that, then you can—”
The door flew open and a voice cut Laine off. “Now, come on, Laine, don’t say something you might regret.”
Laine looked up and Nixon whipped his head around to stare at the man standing in the doorway.
“Who the fu—” Nixon was already rising from his seat in a show of aggression that Laine had never seen before, but didn’t bode well for the shorter, dark-haired man smirking as he lounged against the doorframe.
“Matt! Sit down.” Laine smiled and wondered that his nerves weren’t fried at this point. “This is my former partner from Houston PD, Detective Richard Montoya. I think he’s here to help.”
Nixon stopped in his tracks but didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he stood glaring at Montoya. The tension between the two men was so thick Laine wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d both pulled out their dicks and compared sizes. He started to say as much when Doreen appeared behind Montoya.
“I swear,” Doreen didn’t speak so much as almost cluck the words as she glared from Montoya to Matt, “I can’t even step into the ladies’ room without a bunch of preening peacocks popping up—though I might just shorten the word peacock if you two don’t stop acting like some chest-thumping Neanderthals.”
Laine laughed before he caught himself, startled by Doreen’s threat to call the men dicks, or cocks, rather, and earned Doreen’s flinty glare.
“I’m sorry, Doreen.” He wasn’t stupid, and Nixon normally wasn’t either, so why the man didn’t speak up was beyond Laine. As far as Montoya, he didn’t know Doreen would verbally annihilate him if he didn’t conform to her wishes, but he was a quick study, always had been. Montoya turned to Doreen and offered his hand.
; “I apologize as well. Richard Montoya.”
Laine would just bet the man was flashing his knee-melting smile. Laine had seen that smile work its magic on dozens of women, and Doreen didn’t appear to be an exception.
“Well. All right then.” Doreen shook Montoya’s hand. “Doreen Crews. Don’t let that big guy glaring daggers at you bother you, he’s just protective of his friends, isn’t that right, Matt?” A grunt was the only answer Nixon made. “However, if you do happen to do anything that causes Sheriff Stenley any problems, Matt here’ll be the least of your problems.” Doreen’s smile widened in a way that was predatory rather than friendly. “You do that, and that pretty smile you gave me won’t save your butt, you hear me, boy?”
Maybe Rich is losing his touch. “Doreen—”
“I know, you need more coffee.” Doreen slipped into the room and walked over to grab Laine’s cup. She turned back to face Matt and Rich. “Now, I’m thinking I’ll fetch you two a cup of coffee as well, if y’all can behave.” Doreen shrugged, a physical ‘what can you do?’ “If you boys can’t play nice, far be it from me to hype you up with caffeine.”
“Fine,” Matt muttered as he returned to his seat. “I promise to behave.”
Rich laughed from the doorway and gave Doreen an innocent look as he waved a Styrofoam container at her. “What? I came prepared—and I always behave.” At Doreen’s snort, Rich winked at her then proceeded to walk right up to Laine’s desk and sit on the edge, his back to Matt in such a way that Matt was blocked from Laine’s view.
Laine sat back in his chair and tried not to be amused at the childish behavior. The two men were acting out of character, or at least Matt was. Laine wasn’t sure he knew Rich any more. Regardless, this needed to stop right now. Laine nudged Rich’s hip, hard, pushing him off the desk, and glared at Matt in such a way that the man didn’t dare to laugh.
“I’ve about had enough of this shit. You”—Laine pointed at Matt, ignoring the small bit of satisfaction he felt when the man flinched—“stop acting like an ass or I’ll send you out to Mrs. Hawkins’ place to take her report about a prowler.”
“Sheriff.” Matt sat forward, a panicked look in his eyes. “Last time I went out there, she was… She wanted… God!” A shudder ripped through him. Laine couldn’t blame him—Mrs. Hawkins was a few decades older than either of them and had always been, from what everyone told him, persistent and horny, two things that would frighten the bravest of men when it came to her.
“And you”—Laine pointed at Rich, who was barely keeping in his laughter—“I will toss your ass in jail if you provoke my deputy. Got it?” Laine watched the laughter seep out of his former partner as the man realized he wasn’t joking. “I’ve got enough shit going on that I don’t need this from either of you. You want to help, stay. You want to goad each other and irritate me in the process, get out right now. Are we clear?” Two nods and a ‘yes, sir’ from Matt, and Laine let go of his mad.
“All right then. Rich”—Laine gestured to the chair beside Matt—“what are you doing here?”
Rich pulled the chair right up to Laine’s desk just as Matt had done earlier. “Would you believe me if I told you I’m here because I needed to be?”
Laine and Rich both ignored the noise Matt made at that. Laine tipped his head. “Yeah, surprisingly, I would.” Rich’s smile turned his face from attractive to drop-dead gorgeous.
“Good, because that’s the only reason I can figure that I requested two weeks off and drove up here. I thought maybe…” Rich glanced over at Matt, then back at Laine, who nodded once again, letting Rich know he was free to say whatever he needed to. “I thought maybe it’d help us both, and I’ll admit, Laine, that I’ve missed you, okay? I kinda got used to you being my partner, and then you just left. I understand why—” Rich put up his hand when Laine started to speak. “I do, and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing, but it… Well, I have some ideas that I didn’t want to share over the phone.”
That got Matt’s attention as well as Laine’s. Rich tapped the desk and his stomach growled. “You think we could maybe go grab a bite after we talk? I kinda skipped dinner last night.”
“I can do you one better. Still like your eggs sunny side up?” At Rich’s confirmation, Laine buzzed Doreen. “Doreen, would you call Virginia’s and have her send over breakfast for all of us, yourself included? Yes, thank you, Doreen.” Laine gave her their order and thanked Doreen again before disconnecting.
“Now, let’s get down to business.” Laine stood and hung his Stetson on the hat rack before returning to his seat. He nodded at Matt. “I need to fill you in on what happened three years ago, then we’re going to eat and listen to what brought Rich to McKinton—without being dicks, you got it? Because your egos don’t mean shit, and I want this fucker caught.”
* * * *
“So…”
Zeke stood hit a shoulder propped against one of the posts on the porch, a booted foot lifted to rest on a planter filled with ivy as he studied Sev. Brendon was watching him as well from where he was perched beside his lover. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Was this where he got grilled on his intentions regarding Laine again? Judging by the frowns on both men’s faces, Sev kind of thought it must be. His stomach felt fluttery as he tried to think of how he would answer such questions. Sev squirmed in his chair before he could stop himself and twisted the silver necklace with his fingers. God, he wished one of them would just speak! He sent a pleading look to Brendon—the softer looking of the two men who were visually pinning him in his seat.
Brendon tapped the railing then nodded. “Okay. I feel like my dad grilling one of my dates here, but…” That brought a smile to the man’s lips and eased a little of the tension coiling in Sev. “I guess we just want to know if you’re worth Laine risking everything, because he is, and if you’re planning on hanging around…” Brendon shrugged, Zeke’s frown deepened, and Sev felt a burst of anger that had him rising out of his seat.
“What? Do I have ‘good time only’ stamped on my head? Or maybe a relationship expiration date on me that I don’t know about?” Sev gestured wildly, as if he could work out some of his anger through his arms and hands. “Or maybe you think I’m having such a ‘good time’,” Sev curled his fingers in the air as he said the last two words, surprised at how much he hated them. “Nearly freezing to death, running from a sociopath, and worrying about whether I will get taken out by a small-town lynch mob, and those are the reasons I’m hanging around?”
“Hey—” Zeke’s foot dropped to the porch floor as Sev came closer. Brendon put a hand on Zeke’s chest, to hold him back or reassure him, Sev didn’t know and didn’t care.
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant, Brendon!” Sev was so angry now that his chest hurt with it. “You meant y’all are worried that I’m just a fuck and Laine is the poor sucker who’s going to end up with his heart broken and lose his job and… What are you saying about him? That he’s an idiot being led around by his dick?” The idea made Sev laugh, although it was a bitter sound in his own ears. “You should know your friend better than that. So you don’t know me, and okay, I haven’t had any serious relationships.” That took some of his anger away, drained it out as quickly as it had overtaken him. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want one, that I won’t do everything I can to make it work.”
Sev turned away and walked to the door, pulling it open before he glanced over his shoulder at the two men watching him steadily. “That just means I hadn’t found anyone worth giving my…my heart to before. I’m not a fool. I know what I’ve got. I may not have the words to explain it to you two, but I don’t need to. The only one who needs to know, to understand, is Laine.” Sev left them there and went into the house, letting the screen door bounce shut behind him.
The truth of his words spun in his head as he stumbled to the guest room, and that buzzing sound in his brain wasn’t helping him at all. Knowing he wouldn’t have any p
eace until he listened, Sev flopped onto his back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling fan, watching it spin lazily in its attempt to disperse the heat. That’s what I feel like inside, all blown apart and scattered. Scared I’ll fuck this up, which is why I lost my temper when Laine’s friends were just trying to look out for him. Sev groaned and closed his eyes, adding a forearm across them in an attempt to hide from his own fears swirling around in his head. The buzzing grew louder and Sev cursed. Conner wasn’t going to leave him alone.
“Fine! Say whatever you want to say!” Sev opened his mind and gasped when he heard the voice that wasn’t Conner’s after all, the message both reassuring and scaring him. He listened though, and the words seemed to firm up all the bits of him that felt fragile and broken. When the voice stopped, Sev smiled and quit trying to hide behind his arm. He pushed up on the bed, scooting until his back was against the headboard and grinned as Zeke came thundering down the hall and through the door, not bothering to knock.
Sev waved a hand at him before he could get a word out. “I’m sorry for overreacting. You have every right to be concerned about your friend. Just… I guess I’m a little touchy about the way people see me.”
Zeke sat on the edge of the bed and studied Sev for several seconds before speaking. “I don’t think Brendon or I saw you as some kind of slut, Sev. Sure, we were wanting to know that Laine wasn’t gonna get his heart broken or anything, and maybe the way we went about it was kind of… Well, it’s not something we’ve had to worry about before, ya know? But I think—” Zeke tipped Sev’s chin up, encouraging Sev to meet his gaze, frowning at whatever it was he saw in Sev’s eyes. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t believe you aren’t anything more than a quick fuck. Or didn’t, before Laine, huh?” Zeke removed his hand and looked almost as uncomfortable as Sev felt.
The words were disconcertingly close to the truth, but Sev wouldn’t deny or confirm them. He had, in the past few days, become very aware of the fact that he had some issues he’d previously ignored. That didn’t mean he wanted to discuss them. “All I can tell you is, I have no intention of hurting Laine, okay? Anything else, that’s really between me and him, not me, him, and you two.”
When the Dead Speak Page 13
