I was looking at the trailer from the rear because I'd pulled off the road into the overgrown yard of a little house that had stood next door until its bad wiring had caused a fire a couple of months before. Since then, the frame house had stood half-charred and forlorn, and the former renters had found somewhere else to live. I was able to pull behind the house, because the cold weather had kept the weeds from taking over.
I picked a path through the fringe of high weeds and trees that separated this house from Arlene's. Working through the thickest growth, I made my way to a vantage point where I could see part of the parking area in front of the trailer and all of the backyard. Only Arlene's car was visible from the road, since it had been left in the front yard.
From my vantage point, I could see that behind the trailer was parked a black Ford Ranger pickup, maybe ten years old, and a red Buick Skylark of approximately the same vintage. The pickup was loaded down with pieces of wood, one long enough to protrude beyond the truck bed. They measured about four by four, I estimated.
As I watched, a woman I vaguely recognized came out of the back of the trailer onto the little deck. Her name was Helen Ellis, and she'd worked at Merlotte's about four years before. Though Helen was competent and so pretty she'd drawn the men in like flies, Sam had had to fire her for repeated lateness. Helen had been volcanically upset. Lisa and Coby followed Helen onto the deck. Arlene was framed in the doorway. She was wearing a leopard print top over brown stretch pants.
The kids looked so much older than the last time I'd seen them! They looked reluctant and a little unhappy, especially Coby. Helen smiled at them encouragingly and turned back to Arlene to say, "Just let me know when it's over!" There was a pause while Helen seemed to struggle with how to phrase something she didn't want the kids to understand. "She's only getting what she deserves." I could see Helen only in profile, but her cheerful smile made my stomach heave. I swallowed hard.
"Okay, Helen. I'll call you when you can bring 'em back," Arlene said. There was a man standing behind her. He was too far back in the interior for me to identify with certainty, but I thought he was the man I'd hit on the head with a tray a couple of months back, the man who'd been so ugly to Pam and Amelia. He was one of Arlene's new buddies.
Helen and the kids drove off in the Skylark.
Arlene had closed the back door against the chill of the day. I shut my eyes and located her inside the trailer. I found there were two men in there with her. What were they thinking about? I was a little far, but I stretched out with my extra sense.
They were thinking about doing awful things to me.
I crouched under a bare mimosa, feeling as bleak and miserable as I've ever felt. Granted, I'd known for some time that Arlene wasn't truly a good person or even a faithful person. Granted, I'd heard her rant and rave about the eradication of the supernaturals of the world. Granted, I'd come to realize that she'd slipped into regarding me as one of them. But I'd never let myself believe that whatever affection she'd ever felt for me had slipped away entirely, transmuted by the Fellowship's policy of hate.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I called Andy Bellefleur.
"Bellefleur," he said briskly.
We were hardly buddies, but I sure was glad to hear his voice.
"Andy, it's Sookie," I said, taking care to keep my voice quiet. "Listen, there are two guys in Arlene's trailer with her, and there're some long pieces of wood in the back of their pickup. They don't realize I know they're in the trailer with Arlene. They're planning on doing the same thing to me that was done to Crystal."
"You got anything I could take to court?" he asked cautiously. Andy had always been a closet believer in my telepathy, though that didn't mean he was necessarily a fan of mine.
"No," I said, "they're waiting for me to show up." I crept closer, hoping like hell they weren't looking out the back windows. There was a box of extra-long nails in the pickup bed, too. I had to close my eyes for second as the horror crawled all over me.
"I've got Weiss and Lattesta with me," Andy said. "Would you be willing to go in if we were there to back you up?"
"Sure," I said, feeling anything but. I simply knew I was going to have to do this. It could be the end of any lingering suspicion of Jason. It could mean recompense or at least retribution for the death of Crystal and the baby. It could put at least a few of the Fellowship fanatics behind bars and maybe serve as a good lesson to the rest. "Where are you?" I asked, shaking with fear.
"We were already in the car to go to the motel. We can be there in seven minutes," Andy said.
"I parked behind the Freer house," I said. "I gotta go. Someone's coming out the back of the trailer."
Whit Spradlin and his buddy, whose name I couldn't recall, came down the steps and unloaded the wood beams from the pickup. The pieces were already formed into the correct lengths. Whit turned to the trailer and called something, and Arlene opened the door and came down the back steps, her purse over one shoulder. She walked toward the cab of the pickup.
Dammit, she was going to get in and drive away, leaving her car parked in front as though she were there! Any lingering tenderness I'd harbored in my heart burned away at that moment. I looked at my watch. Maybe three more minutes until Andy arrived.
She kissed Whit and waved at the other man, and they went into the trailer to hide so I wouldn't see them. According to their plan, I'd come to the front, knock on the door, and one of them would fling it open and drag me in.
Game over.
Arlene opened the truck door, the keys in her hand.
She had to stay. She was the weak link. I knew this in every way I could know it - intellectually, emotionally, and with my other sense.
This was going to be awful. I braced myself.
"Hi, Arlene," I said, stepping out of my cover.
She shrieked and jumped. "Jesus Christ, Sookie, what are you doing in my backyard?" She made an elaborate fuss of collecting herself. Her head was a snarled tangle of anger and fear and guilt. And regret. There was some, I swear.
"I've been waiting to see you," I said. I had no idea what to do now, but I'd slowed her down a little. I might have to physically tackle her. The men inside hadn't noticed my abrupt appearance, but that wouldn't last long unless I got extremely lucky. And I hadn't had a run of luck, much less extreme luck, lately.
Arlene was standing still, keys in hand. It was easy to get inside her head and rummage around, reading the awful story in there.
"What you doing, getting ready to go, Arlene?" I asked, keeping my voice very quiet. "You're supposed to be inside, waiting for me to get here."