Brad looked down at his hands, where he worked the tissue back and forth through his fingers. “It’s not right,” he softly said. “There’s something wrong with it.”
Brad was obviously upset over the news about Julie and in no state of mind to tell the story. Ellis laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let me tell it, buddy. Okay?”
Brad nodded but didn’t look up.
He returned his attention to Mandaline, glad that she wasn’t looking at him or Brad like they were nuts. “It’s an old house, one of the oldest in Brooksville. It’s on ten acres north of town. Two stories plus the attic, lots of gingerbread, that kind of thing. We bought it at a bank auction. It sat empty for several years and was in pretty bad shape even before that. We had it tented for termites, put a new roof on it, started getting things like plumbing and electrical updated. We’re in the process of renovating it. Top to bottom.”
She jotted something on her notepad. “How long have you owned it?”
“We bought it early last year, but we didn’t move in until eight weeks ago, once we had a usable bathroom. We’ve been staying at my office.”
Her brow furrowed. “Office?”
“I own the law firm four blocks down from here. The old two-story mansion? I have other offices rented out in the building. We were using part of the upstairs as an apartment.”
“Ah.” Recognition dawned across her features. “Oh! Okay, now I know why your name sounds familiar.” She offered him a kind smile. “You renovated that building, too, didn’t you? I really like how it looks now, the light blue with the yellow trim. Everyone loved how you decorated it last Christmas.”
He nodded. “Thanks. It wasn’t in as bad of shape as this house is. I like rehabbing old houses, although Brad deserves most of the credit for the work.”
“He’s good at it,” Brad softly said with a smile. He looked up at them. “Rehabbing things.”
Ellis smiled at the joke. He realized Mandaline didn’t get it. “Brad’s been through a lot the past few years.”
“So, tell me what kind of things are happening at your house?”
Ellis thought back to the litany of Brad’s claims. “Noises. Ah, apparitions. Things being moved.”
“You’ve both experienced this?”
“I have,” Brad said. He looked down to his lap again. “Ellis thinks I’m imagining it.”
No, not exactly correct, but he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Brad. He suspected Brad genuinely thought he heard and saw things, but that the source of the disturbances came from inside Brad’s battered brain, not from the house.
“I never said that,” he told Brad. “We wouldn’t be here if I thought you were imagining it.”
“He’s humoring me.” Brad turned one of his thousand-megawatt smiles on the woman. “So I’m humoring him by pretending I don’t know he thinks I’m having problems again.”
Holy fecking Goddess! Mandaline didn’t know what Bradley’s issue was, but her panties suddenly grew damp under his playful smile. Her heart raced. Despite the circumstances, Mandaline welcomed the distraction.
It felt good to actually feel something besides grief for a few moments.
It felt good to feel.
She looked from one man to the other. She didn’t get a gay vibe from them. They weren’t partners in that respect, but there was definitely a deep, strong bond of love and caring between them. “Are you brothers?”
“No,” Ellis said. It took every ounce of Mandaline’s being to pull her attention from Bradley’s deep, sweet brown gaze and back to Ellis. “Good friends. For years. Like brothers, I guess. As good as brothers.”
“He takes care of me,” Bradley said, still wearing that smile.
Dammit. If she’d met Bradley in a bar and he flashed that smile at her, she’d likely be in bed with him in a heartbeat despite her reservations of getting involved with anyone.
Hell, she’d do him in the backseat of her car.
Of course, Ellis was no slouch himself. He wore jeans and a blue pullover short-sleeved, collared knit shirt. But with his neatly styled blond hair and blue eyes, he looked every bit as handsome as Bradley. Bradley wore jeans with splotches of paint on them, and a white T-shirt under an open, long-sleeved chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His shaggy brown hair brushed his shirt collar. He also had long, sinewy, graceful fingers she imagined could…
Her pulse thundered as she shoved that vision out of the way. “What do you do for a living, Bradley?”
“Brad.” His soft voice pulled at her every bit as strongly as his smile. “Just Brad. Not much.”
“He’s an artist,” Ellis said, glancing at him.
“Oh, that’s neat,” Mandaline said, wanting to know more about both of them. The vibe she felt intrigued her more every second she spent with them. She felt loath to release the distraction. Outside the room, once they left, she’d be forced to deal with reality again.
For now, she could distract herself with these two cuties.
Brad shrugged. “I try.” His gaze had returned to his lap.
“He sold six paintings last month at a show in Miami for over seventy-five thousand, total.”
Mandaline’s brow rose. “Wow! That’s impressive. I take it he refuses to toot his own horn?”
The sad smile Ellis wore as he looked at his friend nearly broke her heart. She longed to find out what bound these two together. “He won’t even play his own horn, much less toot it. Art is just fun for him.”
“Like I said,” Brad spoke up without looking up, “he takes care of me.”
She didn’t miss the intensity of the look Ellis gave her. It didn’t take her witchy senses to see what was going on. “Brad, tell me about what’s going on at the house.”
At that, he looked up and met her gaze. She felt something subtle shift inside him, as if he was more there than he had been a moment earlier. “I think the renovation stirred something up. That happens, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it can. It’s not uncommon.”
“We know a little about the house’s history. Nothing gory or horrific, but one of the early owners, nearly half his family died there during a flu epidemic back in the forties.”
Mandaline jotted it down, relieved. Likely nothing dark, nothing creepy, just sad energies. “What have you experienced?”
“Most of it’s in the attic. I see shadows moving during the day. And at night. I hear sounds, like voices but not, when I’m alone in the house during the day, and sometimes at night, too. I’ve had stuff like brushes, charcoals, pencils, things like that, I’ll go to find them and they’ve been moved. I have periods where it feels like someone’s watching me when I’m home alone.”
While Brad spoke, Mandaline watched Ellis from the periphery of her vision. Yes, he was humoring his friend. And he was doing it out of love and concern.
She kept her focus on Brad as she jotted notes while he talked. “Have you noticed any pattern to the activity?”
He shrugged. “It happens only to me.”
“Does the activity get worse at night or daytime?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t noticed. It just…happens. Julie said maybe she could do a house cleansing ritual?”
“That is definitely one option. She…we have a two-pronged approach. Have you ever watched Otherworlds?”
Brad smiled. “I love that show. They’re based in Tampa.”
That smile would be devastating to her panties. She couldn’t help but smile in return. “We use equipment to go through a space and see if we can catch anything. But we also try to debunk what we can. When we finish that process, then we can go through and do a ritual cleansing of the space for you, if you’d like.”