On the other hand, Desmond Cataliades was very effective and personally interested in me, since he'd been best buds with my biological grandfather. But he was based in New Orleans and had a brisk trade, since he was knowledgeable about both the supernatural world and American law. I didn't know if the part-demon would be able or willing to come to my aid. His e-mail had been friendly, and he'd talked about coming to see me. It would cost me an arm and a leg (not literally), but as soon as the bank released the check from Claudine's estate, I'd be good for his fee.
In the meantime, maybe the police would find another suspect and make an arrest. Maybe I wouldn't need a lawyer. I thought about the last statement I'd received for my savings account. After the ten thousand I'd put into Merlotte's, I had around three thousand remaining from the money I'd earned from the vampires. I'd just inherited a lot of money - $150,000 - from my fairy godmother, Claudine, and you'd think I'd be sitting pretty. But the bank issuing the check had come under sudden and vigorous scrutiny by the Louisiana government, and all its checks had been frozen. I'd called my bank to find out what was up. My money was there . . . but I couldn't use it. I found this utterly suspicious.
I texted Eric's daytime man, Mustapha. "Hope Karin will be available to tell police she saw me last night and I was home the whole time," I typed, and sent it before something happened to stop me. That was a huge hint, and I hoped Karin got it.
"Sookie," Alcee Beck said, and his deep voice was like the voice of doom. "You don't need to be telling anyone what's happening here." I hadn't even seen him approach, I was so lost in calculation and concern.
"I wasn't," I said honestly. That was what I called a fairy truth. The fae didn't out-and-out lie, but they could give a convoluted version of the truth to leave a completely false impression. I met his dark eyes and I didn't flinch. I'd faced scarier beings than Alcee.
"Right," he said disbelievingly, and moved away. He went out to the edge of the parking lot to his car, which was pulled into the shade of a tree, and bent to reach in the open window. As he walked back to the bar, putting on his sunglasses, I thought I saw a quick motion in the woods by his car. Weird. I shook my head to clear it, looked again. I saw nothing, not a flicker of movement.
Sam got us two bottles of water from the trailer refrigerator. I opened mine gratefully and drank, then held the chilly bottle to my neck. It felt wonderful.
"Eric visited me last night," I said, without any premeditation. I saw Sam's hands go still. I very carefully wasn't looking at his face. "I'd gone to see him at Fangtasia, and he wouldn't even talk to me while I was there. It was beyond humiliating. Last night he stayed about five minutes, tops. He said he wasn't supposed to be there. Here's the thing. I've got to keep it secret."
"What the hell . . . ? Why?"
"Some vampire reason. I'll find out soon enough. The point is, he left Karin there. She's his other child, his oldest. She was supposed to protect me, but I don't think Eric ever thought of something like this happening. I think he thought someone was going to try to sneak in the house. But assuming Karin will tell Alcee and Andy that I didn't leave my house last night, he did me a great good deed."
"If the police will accept the word of a vampire."
"There's that. And they can't question her until tonight. And I have no idea how to get in touch with her, so I left a message with Mustapha. Here's Part Two of the bad Eric stuff. He told me I would be seeing him tonight, but he warned me I wouldn't like it. It sounded pretty official. I kind of have to go, if I'm not in jail, that is." I tried to smile. "It's not going to be fun."
"You want me to come with you?"
That was an amazing offer. I appreciated it, and I said so. But I had to add, "I think I have to get through this by myself, Sam. Just now, the sight of you might make Eric more . . . upset."
Sam nodded in acknowledgment. But he looked worried. After some hesitation, he said, "What do you think is going to happen, Sook? If you have to go, you have the right to have someone with you. It's not like you are going to a movie with Eric or something."
"I don't think I'm in physical danger. I'm just . . . I don't know." I believed - I anticipated - that Eric was going to repudiate me publicly. I just couldn't push the words out of my throat. "Some vampire bullshit," I muttered dismally.
Sam put his hand on my shoulder. It was almost too hot for even that slight contact, but I could tell he was trying to let me know he was ready to back me up. "Where are you two meeting?"
"Fangtasia or Eric's house, I suppose. He'll let me know."
"The offer stands."
"Thanks." I smiled at him, but it was a weak attempt. "But I don't want anyone more agitated than they're gonna be." Meaning Eric.
"Then call me when you get home?"
"I can do that. Might be pretty late."
"That doesn't matter."
Sam had always been my friend, though we'd had our ups and our downs and our arguments. It would be insulting to tell him that he didn't owe me anything for bringing him back to life. He knew that.
"I woke up different," Sam said suddenly. He'd been thinking during the little pause, too.
"How?"
"I'm not sure, yet. But I'm tired of . . ." His voice trailed off.
"Of what?"
"Of living my life like there'll be plenty of tomorrows so what I do today doesn't matter."
"You think something's going to happen to you?"
"No, not exactly," he said. "I'm afraid nothing will happen to me. When I work it out, I'll let you know." He smiled at me; it was a rueful smile, but it had warmth.
"Okay," I said. I made myself smile back. "You do that."
And we returned to watching the police do their thing, each sunk in our own thoughts. I hope Sam's were happier than mine. I didn't see how the day could get much crappier. But it could.
ELSEWHERE
that night
"I think we can call him now," the medium man said, and took out his cell phone. "You take care of the throwaway."
The tall man extracted a cheap cell phone from his pocket. He stomped on it a few times, enjoying the crushing of the glass and metal. He picked up the carcass of the telephone and dropped it into a deep puddle. The short driveway from the road to the front of the trailer was dimpled with such puddles. Anyone driving in would be sure to press the phone into the mud.
The medium man would have preferred some method of disposal that completely obliterated the little collection of circuitry and metal, but that would do. He was frowning when the call he placed went through.