Dead Ever After
Page 25

I'd been worried that people would shy away from me, since I'd been accused of killing Arlene. As I waited tables, I came to understand the shocking truth: People weren't worried much about Arlene's death. Her trial had taken her reputation away from her. It wasn't so much that people loved me; it was that people realized a mom shouldn't lure her friend to her death, and then get caught, because then her children were left in the lurch. I came to see that despite the fact that I'd dated vampires, I had a good reputation in many respects. I was reliable and cheerful and hardworking, and with the people of Bon Temps that counted an awful lot. I put flowers on my family's graves every holiday and on the anniversary of their deaths. Plus, through area gossip, it had become known that I was taking an active interest in my cousin Hadley's little boy, and there was a widespread, pleasant hope that I would marry Hadley's widower, Remy Savoy, because that would tie things up neatly.
Which would have been great . . . except Remy and I weren't interested in each other. Until real recently, I'd had Eric, and to the best of my knowledge, Remy was still dating the very cute Erin. I tried to imagine kissing Remy and simply wasn't inclined to go there.
All of these thoughts kept me engaged and busy both outside and inside, until it was time for me to go. Sam smiled and waved when I took off my apron and handed over my tables to India.
No one at all was at my house when I unlocked the back door. That was strange, since it had been such a beehive that morning. Moved by an impulse, I went into my bedroom and perched on the side of the bed, close to my bedside table. Thanks to my compulsory cleaning during my three days off, neatly located in the top drawer were all the things I might need at a moment's notice during the night: a flashlight, Kleenex, ChapStick, Tylenol, three condoms Quinn had left when we'd dated, a list of emergency phone numbers, a cell phone charger, an old tin box (full of pins, needles, buttons, and paper clips), some pens, a notepad . . . the usual mixture of handy items.
But the next drawer held memorabilia. There was the bullet I'd sucked out of Eric's flesh in Dallas. There was a rock that had hit Eric in the head in the living room of Sam's rental house in town. There were various sets of keys to Eric's house, Jason's house, Tara's house, all neatly labeled. There was a laminated copy of my gran's obituary and my parents', and another laminated newspaper story published the year the Lady Falcons had won their division at state, with a few nice lines about my performance. There was an ancient brooch in which Gran had placed a lock of my mom's hair and a lock of my dad's. There was the old pattern envelope containing a letter from Gran and the velvet bag that had contained the cluviel dor, and the cluviel dor itself, now dull and divested of all its magic. There was a note Quinn had written me during our dating period. There was the envelope in which Sam had given me a partnership agreement to the bar, though the actual partnership document was in a lockbox at my lawyer's. There were birthday cards and Christmas cards and a drawing made by Hunter.
It was dumb to keep the rock. It was too heavy for the drawer, anyway, and made it hard to open and close. I put it on top of my night table, planning to set it in the flower bed. I got out the keys to Eric's house, wrapped them in bubble wrap, and put them in a padded mailer to send to him. I wondered if he'd put the house up for sale, or what? Maybe the next sheriff would move into it. If Felipe de Castro appointed him or her, I realized that my grace period was very short. With any new vampire regime, it would be open season on me . . . or would they just forget about me? That would be almost too good to be true.
A knock at the back door was a welcome diversion. The packmaster himself had come to call, and he seemed more at ease than I'd ever seen him. Alcide Herveaux looked comfortable in his own skin and pleased with the world. He was wearing his usual jeans and boots - a surveyor couldn't tromp through ditches and woods in flip-flops. His short-sleeved shirt was well worn and tight across his wide shoulders. Alcide was a working man but not an uncomplicated one. His love life, up until now, had been nothing short of a disaster. First, Debbie Pelt, who had been a bitch on wheels until I'd killed her; then the very nice Maria-Star Cooper, who'd been murdered; then Annabelle Bannister, who'd been unfaithful to him. He'd had a thing for me until I'd persuaded him that would be a bad idea for both of us. Now he was seeing a werewolf named Kandace, who was new to the area. She would be up for membership in the pack later this month.
"I hear we need to try to find a trail of someone who stole that scarf," Alcide said.
"I hope you can pick up something," I said. "Wouldn't be court evidence, but we'd be able to track down him or her."
"You're a clean woman," he said, looking around the living room. "But I can tell there've been lots of people in here lately."
"Yeah," I said. "I got a houseful of company. So the best place to catch a scent would be in my room."
"That's where we'll start," he said, and smiled. He had white teeth in a tan face and lovely green eyes, and Alcide's smile was something else. Too bad he wasn't for me.
"You want a glass of water or some lemonade?" I said.
"Maybe after I get the job done," he said. He took off his clothes and folded them neatly on the couch. Wow. I struggled to keep my face neutral. Then he changed.
It always looked like it hurt, and the sounds were unpleasant, but Alcide seemed to recover quickly. The handsome wolf in front of me padded around my living room, his sensitive nose recording scent trails before he followed them into my bedroom.
I stayed out of his way. I sat at the little desk in the living room where the computer was plugged in, and I passed the time by deleting a lot of old e-mail. It was something to do while he searched. I banished all the spam and the department store ads before a big wolf head thrust its way into my lap, and there was Alcide, tail wagging.
I patted him automatically. That was what you did when a canine head presented itself. You scratched between its ears and under its chin, you rubbed its belly . . . well, maybe not a wolf's belly, especially a male wolf's.
Alcide grinned at me and changed back. He'd become the fastest changer I'd ever seen. I wondered if that ability came with the packmaster job.
"Any luck?" I asked, keeping my eyes modestly focused on my hands while he got dressed.
"At least you didn't clean the throw rug by your bed," he said. "I can tell you that one person who's been in your room, I don't know at all. But your friend Tara's been there, right by your bed. Your two fae buddies were in there, but then, they lived here."
"They were searching my house while I was gone every day," I said. "They were searching for the cluviel dor."
"That's sad, that your kin would do that," Alcide said, and he patted me on the shoulder. "Who else did I smell? Eric, of course. And you know who else? Arlene. She was carrying a charm of some kind, but definitely Arlene."
"I didn't remember you'd met Arlene." I grasped at an irrelevant issue because I was stunned silly.
"She served me once or twice when I came by Merlotte's."
I figured out her access after five seconds' more cogitation. "She knew where I hid my keys from when we were friends," I said, infuriated by my own carelessness. "I guess before, or even after, she came to Merlotte's, she let herself in here and got the scarf. But why?"
"Someone told her to, I expect," Alcide said, buckling his belt.
"Someone sent her here to get the scarf that would be used to kill her."
"Apparently, that's what happened. Ironic, huh?"
I couldn't think of any other explanation.
And it made me sick.
"Thanks so much, Alcide," I said, remembering my manners. I got him the glass of lemonade I'd promised him, and he drank it in one long gulp. "How's Kandace doing, integrating into the pack?" I asked.
He smiled broadly. "She's doing real well," he said. "Taking it slow. They're warming up to her." Kandace had been a rogue wolf, but because she'd turned in some worse rogues, she'd gotten a chance to join the pack while the bad ones had been banished. Kandace was quiet and tall, and though I didn't know her well, I knew she was the calmest person Alcide had ever been with. I had the sense that after a life on rough seas, Kandace was looking for inland waters.
"That's real good to hear," I said. "I wish her luck."
"Call me if you need me," Alcide said. "The pack stands ready to help you."
"You've already been a help," I said, and I meant it.
Two minutes after he left, Barry pulled up in a car he'd rented from a new place out by the interstate. He'd also brought Amelia and Bob. Amelia said, "I'm asleep on my feet," and headed for the bedroom to take a nap, Bob hard on her heels. Barry ran upstairs to plug his cell phone into his charger. I glanced at the clock and realized it was time to get busy. I began cooking supper for six. Country-fried steak took a while, so I got that in the oven first. Then I cut up crookneck squash and onions to saute, and I chopped okra and breaded it to fry, and I put bakery rolls on a baking sheet to pop in the oven right before I served supper. I'd start the rice soon.
Barry came into the kitchen, sniffing the air and smiling.
"Did you have a productive day?" I asked.
Barry nodded. He said, I'll wait until everyone gets here so I'll only have to say it once.
Okay, I said, and wiped the flour off the kitchen counter. Barry cleared the counter of dirty dishes in the best possible way, by washing and drying them. He was far more domesticated than I'd ever suspected, and I realized there was much more to know about him.
"I'm going outside to make some phone calls," he said. I knew he wanted to be out of my earshot and mindshot, if I can put it that way, but that didn't bother me in the least. While he was outside, Bob ambled through the kitchen and straight down the porch steps, carefully easing the porch door closed.
A few minutes later, Amelia came out into the kitchen sleepy-eyed. "Bob went for a walk in the woods," she muttered. "I'm going to splash some water on my face." Mr. Cataliades and Diantha came in the back door ten minutes later. Diantha looked exhausted, but Mr. C was positively bubbly.
"I am smitten with Beth Osiecki," he said, beaming. "I'll tell you all about it over our meal. First, I must shower." He sniffed the air in the kitchen appreciatively and told me how much he looked forward to dinner before he and a silent Diantha went upstairs. Amelia came out of the bathroom; Mr. Cataliades went in. Bob returned from the woods, sweaty and scratched and with a bag full of various plants. He collapsed in a chair and begged for a big icy glass of tea. He drank it dry. Diantha had stopped at a roadside stand to buy a honeydew melon, and she cut into it. I could smell the sweetness as she cut out the fruit and diced it.
My cell phone buzzed. "Hello?" I said. The rice was boiling, so I turned it down and covered it. I glanced at the kitchen clock so I could turn it off in twenty minutes.
"It's Quinn," he said.
"Where are you? Who were you tracking down? We're about to eat. You coming?"
"The two men I saw were gone this morning," he said. "I think they caught a glimpse of me and checked out during the night. I've spent all day trying to find them, but they're in the wind."
"Who were they?"
"Do you remember . . . that lawyer?"
"Johan Glassport?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"Barry saw him in New Orleans."
"He was here. With some guy who looked kind of familiar, though I couldn't put a name to him."
"So . . . what are your plans?" I glanced at the clock anxiously. It was hard to concentrate when I was trying to put a meal on the table. My gran had always made it look so easy.
"I'm sorry, Sookie. I have other news. I've been called away to take a job, and my employer says I'm the only one who can do it."
"Uh-huh." Then I realized I hadn't responded to his tone of voice, but his words. "You sound pretty serious."
"I have to stage a wedding ceremony. A vampire wedding ceremony."
I took a deep breath. "In Oklahoma, I take it?"
"Yes. In two weeks. If I don't do it, I'll lose my job."
And now that he was going to have a kid, he couldn't afford to do any such thing. "I get it," I said steadily. "Really, I understand. You showed up, and I love that you came here."
"I'm so sorry I couldn't catch up with Glassport. I know he's dangerous."
"We'll find out if he has anything to do with this, Quinn. Thanks for your help."
And we said good-bye a few more times, in different ways, until we had to hang up. By that time, I had to get busy with the gravy or supper would be ruined. I simply had to postpone thinking of Eric and Freyda's wedding until later.
After twenty minutes, I was calmer, the food was ready, and we were all seated around the kitchen table.
No one joined in my prayer but Bob, but that was okay. We'd said one. Getting everyone served was a ten-minute process. After that, the floor seemed open to discussion.
Barry said, "I visited Brock and Chessie, and I talked to the kids."
"How'd you get in?" Amelia asked. "I know you called 'em before you went."
"I said I'd known Arlene and I wanted to say how sorry I was. I didn't lie to them after that." He looked defensive. "But I did tell them I was a friend of Sookie's, and that I didn't think she had anything to do with Arlene's death."