"Ouch," he said in protest.
Somehow this bit of byplay convinced Detective Coughlin that we were really engaged. He took down our phone numbers and addresses, then told us we could leave. Alcide was as relieved as I was.
We drove to the nearest place where we could pull over in privacy - a little park that was largely deserted in the cold weather - and Alcide called Colonel Flood again. I waited in the truck while Alcide, pacing in the dead grass, gesticulated and raised his voice, venting some of his horror and anger. I'd been able to feel it building up in him. Alcide had trouble articulating emotions, like lots of guys. It made him seem more familiar and dear.
Dear? I'd better stop thinking like that. The engagement had been drummed up strictly for Detective Coughlin's benefit. If Alcide was anyone's "dear," it was the perfidious Debbie's.
When Alcide climbed back into the pickup, he was scowling.
"I guess I better go back to the office and take you to your car," he said. "I'm sorry about all this."
"I guess I should be saying that."
"This is a situation neither of us created," he said firmly. "Neither of us would be involved if we could help it."
"That's the God's truth." After a minute of thinking of the complicated supernatural world, I asked Alcide what Colonel Flood's plan was.
"We'll take care of it," Alcide said. "I'm sorry, Sook, I can't tell you what we're going to do."
"Are you going to be in danger?" I asked, because I just couldn't help it.
We'd gotten to the Herveaux building by then, and Alcide parked his truck by my old car. He turned a little to face me, and he reached over to take my hand. "I'm gonna be fine. Don't worry," he said gently. "I'll call you."
"Don't forget to do that," I said. "And I have to tell you what the witches did about trying to find Eric." I hadn't told Alcide about the posted pictures, the reward. He frowned even harder when he thought about the cleverness of this ploy.
"Debbie was supposed to drive over this afternoon, get here about six," he said. He looked at his watch. "Too late to stop her coming."
"If you're planning a big raid, she could help," I said.
He gave me a sharp look. Like a pointed stick he wanted to poke in my eye. "She's a shifter, not a Were," he reminded me defensively.
Maybe she turned into a weasel or a rat.
"Of course," I said seriously. I literally bit my tongue so I wouldn't make any of the remarks that waited just inside my mouth, dying to be spoken. "Alcide, do you think the other body was Adabelle's girlfriend? Someone who just got caught at the shop with Adabelle when the witches came calling?"
"Since a lot of the second body was missing, I hope that the body was one of the witches. I hope Adabelle went down fighting."
"I hope so, too." I nodded, putting an end to that train of thought. "I'd better get back to Bon Temps. Eric will be waking up soon. Don't forget to tell your dad that we're engaged."
His expression provided the only fun I'd had all day.
Chapter 6
6
I thought all the way home about my day in Shreveport. I'd asked Alcide to call the cops in Bon Temps from his cell phone, and he'd gotten another negative message. No, they hadn't heard any more on Jason, and no one had called to say they'd seen him. So I didn't stop by the police station on my way home, but I did have to go to the grocery to buy some margarine and bread, and I did have to go in the liquor store to pick up some blood.
The first thing I saw when I pushed open the door of Super Save-A-Bunch was a little display of bottled blood, which saved me a stop at the liquor store. The second thing I saw was the poster with the headshot of Eric. I assumed it was the photo Eric had had made when he opened Fangtasia, because it was a very nonthreatening picture. He was projecting winsome worldliness; any person in this universe would know that he'd never, ever bite. It was headed, "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS VAMPIRE?"
I read the text carefully. Everything Jason had said about it was true. Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money. That Hallow must be really nuts about Eric to pay that much, if all she wanted was a hump. It was hard to believe gaining control of Fangtasia (and having the bed services of Eric) would afford her a profit after paying out a reward that large. I was increasingly doubtful that I knew the whole story, and I was increasingly sure I was sticking my neck out and might get it bitten off.
Hoyt Fortenberry, Jason's big buddy, was loading pizzas into his buggy in the frozen food aisle. "Hey, Sookie, where you think ole Jason got to?" he called as soon as he saw me. Hoyt, big and beefy and no rocket scientist, looked genuinely concerned.
"I wish I knew," I said, coming closer so we could talk without everyone in the store recording every word. "I'm pretty worried."
"You don't think he's just gone off with some girl he met? That girl he was with New Year's Eve was pretty cute."
"What was her name?"
"Crystal. Crystal Norris."
"Where's she from?"
"From round Hotshot, out thataway." He nodded south.
Hotshot was even smaller than Bon Temps. It was about ten miles away and had a reputation for being a strange little community. The Hotshot kids who attended the Bon Temps school always stuck together, and they were all a smidge... different. It didn't surprise me at all that Crystal lived in Hotshot.
"So," Hoyt said, persisting in making his point, "Crystal might have asked him to come stay with her." But his brain was saying he didn't believe it, he was only trying to comfort me and himself. We both knew that Jason would have phoned by now, no matter how good a time he was having with any woman.
But I decided I'd give Crystal a call when I had a clear ten minutes, which might not be any time tonight. I asked Hoyt to pass on Crystal's name to the sheriff's department, and he said he would. He didn't seem too happy about the idea. I could tell that if the missing man had been anyone but Jason, Hoyt would have refused. But Jason had always been Hoyt's source of recreation and general amusement, since Jason was far more clever and inventive than the slow-moving, slow-thinking Hoyt: If Jason never reappeared, Hoyt would have a dull life.
We parted in the Super Save-A-Bunch parking lot, and I felt relieved that Hoyt hadn't asked me about the TrueBlood I'd purchased. Neither had the cashier, though she'd handled the bottles with distaste. As I'd paid for it, I'd thought about how much I was in the hole from hosting Eric already. Clothes and blood mounted up.
It was just dark when I got to my house and pulled the plastic grocery bags out of the car. I unlocked my back door and went in, calling to Eric as I switched on the kitchen light. I didn't hear an answer, so I put the groceries away, leaving a bottle of TrueBlood out of the refrigerator so he could have it to hand when he got hungry. I got the shotgun out of my trunk and loaded it, sticking it in the shadow of the water heater. I took a minute to call the sheriff's department again. No news of Jason, said the dispatcher.