Johan Glassport was a lawyer. I've known many nice people who were lawyers, so I'm not going to make a lawyer joke out of this; Johan Glassport was also a sadist and a murderer. Evidently, when you're a brilliant lawyer, you can get away with a lot of stuff. He had. I'd last seen Glassport in Rhodes. I'd understood he'd gone to Mexico to hide out after the terrible explosion at the hotel. He'd been on television then, part of the bedraggled and injured cluster of survivors, and I had always thought he feared he might be recognized by someone. There had to be plenty of people who dreaded the sight of him. Did he see you? I asked.
"I don't think so." He was on a streetcar, and I was on the sidewalk.
"It's never good to see Johan," I muttered. "Why is he back in the States?"
"I hope we never find out. And I'll tell you something strange. Glassport's brain was opaque."
"Did you tell Mr. Cataliades?" I said.
Yes. He didn't say anything, though. But he looked grim. Grimmer than usual.
"I did see him," Desmond Cataliades said, making one of his sudden appearances. "In fact, New Orleans has been full of unexpected creatures lately. But more about that later. Glassport told me he'd got business in Louisiana. He'd been hired by someone who had a great store of wealth. Someone who didn't want to be seen by anyone. Glassport said he had been out of the country recruiting at this someone's behest."
"I wonder who?"
"Ordinarily, I could have told you," the part-demon said. "But as Barry has said, Glassport has acquired some kind of protection charm, perhaps fae in origin. I can't hear his thoughts."
"I didn't know you could buy such an item!" I was surprised. "Surely that's a hard thing to create?"
"Humans aren't capable of it. Only a few supernaturals."
That was why we were all looking anxious and concerned when Amelia came out of the kitchen, hand in hand with Bob.
"Aw, that's so sweet! But don't worry about us," she said, smiling. "Bob and I are happy as clams about the baby, now that we've gotten over the shock of it." I was glad to see her happiness, and Bob's, but I was also sorry I couldn't pursue the conversation about Johan Glassport to its conclusion. It was bad news that he was anywhere in Louisiana.
Amelia's smile began to falter when she didn't get the reaction she'd expected.
"Amelia and Bob are having a baby!" I said, making myself beam at Mr. Cataliades. Of course, he already knew it.
"Yeah, I'm pregnant, Mr. C!" She recovered her excitement in telling the part-demon lawyer. Obligingly, he did his best to look startled and delighted.
"We're going to raise the baby together. Wait until I tell my father! He's gonna be so ticked because we're not married," Amelia said. She seemed a bit pleased at vexing her father, who ordered other people around all day, every day.
"Amelia," I said, "Bob doesn't have a real father left to share with this baby. This baby might enjoy having a grandfather."
Amelia was totally taken aback. I hadn't known I was going to say that until it popped out of my mouth. I waited to see if she'd be angry. I saw the flash of offense cross her mind, then a more mature thoughtfulness. "I'll think about that," she said, and that was certainly more than enough. "My dad's changed a lot lately, for sure." I could hear her thinking, And kind of inexplicably. I didn't know what to make of that.
"Interesting that you said that, Amelia," the demon lawyer said. "Let's talk about why we're here. There's much I wanted to say on the drive up here, but not only was I busy trying to check to see if we were being followed, I didn't want to have to repeat everything for Sookie."
Everyone settled in the living room. Diantha helped me carry out drinks and cookies and little napkins. I had definitely overbought for that baby shower. No one seemed to mind the green and yellow rattles motif, though. I hadn't seen any napkins at Hallmark themed for a supernatural summit.
Mr. Cataliades acted as the chairman of this meeting. "Before we plan our course of action about the main topic - the accusation that Sookie murdered Arlene Fowler - there are others we need to discuss. Miss Amelia, I have to ask you to keep the news of your pregnancy confined to this group, just for the moment. Please don't make it the subject of any telephone calls or text messages to your nearest and dearest, though I know you're excited." He smiled at her in a way clearly meant to be reassuring.
Amelia was startled and concerned, expressions that sat oddly on someone as fresh and bright-eyed as she was. Bob dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew what Mr. Cataliades was saying, while Amelia did not.
"For how long?" she said.
"For only a day or two. Surely the news will wait that long?" He smiled again.
"All right," she agreed, after a glance at Bob, who nodded.
"Now to talk about the murder of Arlene Fowler," Mr. Cataliades said, as heartily as if he'd just announced that earnings for the last quarter were way up.
Clearly, the lawyer knew a lot of things I didn't know and was choosing not to share those items, which bothered me. But after he said the word "murder," he had my complete attention.
"Please tell us everything you know about the late Arlene, and tell us how you came to see her again after her release from prison," Mr. Cataliades said.
So I began talking.
Chapter 12
It took a surprisingly long time to relate everything I knew about Arlene and her activities, including my concerns about Alcee Beck. Bob, Amelia, Barry, Diantha, and Mr. Cataliades offered a lot of opinions and ideas, and asked a lot of questions.
Amelia focused on the two men Arlene had mentioned, presumably the same two men Jane had witnessed her meeting behind Tray Dawson's empty house. Amelia proposed to lay a truth spell on them to find out what Arlene had handed them. She was a little hazy about how she intended to track them down, but she told us that she had a few ideas. She made an effort to sound nonchalant, but she was quivering with eagerness.
Bob wanted to call a touch psychic he knew in New Orleans, and he wondered if we could persuade the police to let the psychic hold the scarf to get a reading. I said that was a definite no.
Barry thought we should talk to Arlene's kids and Brock and Chessie Johnson, to see if Arlene had said anything about her plans to them.
Diantha thought we should steal the scarf, and then they'd have no evidence on me at all. I have to admit, that option really resonated with me. I knew I hadn't done it. I knew the police weren't looking in the right direction. And, frankly, even more than I wanted Arlene's murderer to be found, I knew I didn't want to go to jail. At all. Ever again.