When the Dead Speak, Bailey Bradford [new ebook reader .TXT] 📗

off quickly and hung the towel on the towel bar. He turned and walked to his bedroom to get dressed without seeing the gentle flutter of the towel in the small, closed bathroom.

* * * *

Okay, Sev thought to himself, he could understand Laine completely shutting down on him that morning. It was understandable, once Sev had shaken himself out of his funk and gotten busy on his laptop. The articles he had pulled up on Conner Sutherland had been heartbreakingly brutal, and from Laine’s reaction to the name, not to mention the loving vibes Sev felt coming from Conner’s spirit, Conner had been more than just a friend to Laine. Sev made himself look at the picture of a smiling, blond man in the archived news article he’d clicked on.

Conner Sutherland had been a clean-cut, wholesome looking guy. The picture was a little blurry but Sev would swear he could see a mischievous sparkle in the man’s dark eyes. Not exactly plain but not classically handsome, there had been something about Conner that seemed to shine. Sev would be willing to bet it would show through in every picture of the man, though he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to test that theory. That look of agony on Laine’s face when Sev had spoken Conner’s name… Laine had loved the man, probably still did. With a dull ache in his heart, Sev read the report on Conner’s death again, dated April 19th, 2007.

Houston Fireman Brutally Tortured and Murdered

Conner Sutherland, 31, was found dead in his apartment by a Houston police detective. Laine Stenley, a detective with Houston PD, became concerned when Sutherland did not answer his phone. After several attempts to reach Sutherland by phone, Stenley drove to Sutherland’s apartment. When Sutherland did not answer the door, Stenley tried the door and found it unlocked. Inside, he discovered Sutherland bound to his bed and brutally murdered. Police aren’t releasing many details, though an inside source has confirmed that it appeared Conner Sutherland was tortured over a period of hours early in the morning. Police are declining to speculate on a motive for the murder, and they have no immediate suspects.

Sutherland was a Houston native and had been a member of the Houston Fire Department for nine years. Updates to follow.

Sev found Conner’s obituary next. The picture was clear, Conner in his fireman’s uniform, broad shoulders back and what would have been a solemn look on his face except for the slightest quirk of his lips on one side and that gleeful look in the man’s eye. No mention of a partner, which Sev could understand, he guessed, given the two men’s chosen careers. No surviving family members, as Conner’s parents had passed on some time before him.

Those sparkling eyes kept drawing Sev back to them. It was hard to picture Laine with a man who appeared to be full of mischief, the sheriff was such a serious, lone man.

Except for when his eyes tipped into that molten silver color brought on by need, then Laine was everything sexual and potent. Sev rubbed at his semi-erect cock and groaned.

“Definitely not the right time,” Sev muttered, clicking on the link for the next article. Not the right man, either, and he knew it. It was apparent that Laine had loved—still loved—Conner Sutherland, and Sev was as different from the big blond man as he could be. And why should I even be thinking about that? He wasn’t looking for Mr. Right, he wasn’t!

The next couple of articles didn’t offer up any new information on Conner’s murder, and Sev had just about given up hope on learning anything more about the man when what he was reading stopped him cold. The story contained more information leaked from an anonymous insider, and as he read the details surrounding exactly how Conner was tortured and killed, the room grew unnaturally chilly and his senses picked up a presence. This particular spirit was stronger than it had been previously, the power emanating off it calling to Sev in such a way that he couldn’t block it out if he tried. Sev slowly turned from the laptop and scanned the room.

“Conner?” The temperature continued to drop, sending goosebumps traipsing over Sev’s skin. He stopped himself from rubbing his arms and willed the spirit in the room to speak to him. “Conner…please. You need to tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?”

A form seemed to coalesce across the room, a barely discernible shape Sev could only define as the very air thickening, growing dense until a definite outline of a man was apparent.

“What the fu—” Sev tried to stand up and scoot back as the shape approached…floated. “This is… You can’t… Shit!” Sev spun around the small table and tripped over the other chair, landing flat on his butt. He’d never seen a ghost, not like this, not in the form of a person, and he didn’t care for it. Felt them as an almost electric tingle, sure. Heard them, of course, but this? He wasn’t prepared for this at all. In fact, his heart was beating so fast he was dizzy and black dots kept dancing in front of his eyes—but there weren’t enough dots to block out the image of that dense, see-through spirit as it got closer. The form stopped inches from Sev’s feet and seemed to be studying him.

The cold temperature was way past uncomfortable. Sev darted a glance at his fingers and saw the purplish-blue tinge to his skin, could see his breath slip from his lips in smoky white puffs. Not even the bolt of fear-fueled adrenaline that shot through him when the spirit sank down until it was sitting directly in front of Sev did anything to warm his freezing flesh.

“What… How can you do this?” Sev’s voice sounded way too squeaky even to his own ears, and when he finally worked up the nerve to look up into the spirit’s