I expected to be angry that Bill was watching me, but the anger never rose. No matter what had happened between us, I could not rid myself of the feeling that Bill had not simply been spying on me—he had been watching over me.
Also—more practically—there was nothing to be done about it. I could hardly throw open the door and apologize for having male company. At this moment, I wasn’t the least bit sorry I’d gone to bed with Eric. In fact, I felt as sated as if I’d had the Thanksgiving feast of sex. Eric didn’t look anything like a turkey—but after I had a happy mental image of him lying on my kitchen table with some sweet potatoes and marshmallows, I was able to think only of my bed. I slid under the covers with a smile on my face, and almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
Chapter 11
I should have known my brother would come to see me. I should only have felt surprised that he hadn’t appeared earlier. When I got up the next day at noon, feeling as relaxed as a cat in a pool of sunshine, Jason was in the backyard on the chaise I’d used the day before. I thought it was smart of him not to come inside, considering we were at odds with each other.
Today wasn’t going to be nearly as warm as the day before. It was cold and raw. Jason was bundled in a heavy camo jacket and a knit cap. He was staring up into the cloudless sky.
I remembered the twins’ warning, and I looked at him carefully; but no, it was Jason. The feel of his mind was familiar, but maybe a fairy could impersonate even that. I listened in for a second. No, this was definitely my brother.
It was strange to see him sitting idle and even stranger to see him alone. Jason was always talking, drinking, flirting with women, working at his job, or working on his house; and if he wasn’t with a woman, he nearly always had a male shadow—Hoyt (until he’d been preempted by Holly) or Mel. Contemplation and solitude were not states I associated with my brother. Watching him stare at the sky as I sipped my mug of coffee, I thought,Jason’s a widower now .
That was a strange new identity for Jason, a heavy one he might not be able to manage. He’d cared for Crystal more than she’d cared for him. That had been a new experience for Jason, too. Crystal—pretty, stupid, and faithless—had been his female counterpart. Maybe her infidelity had been an attempt to reassert her independence, to struggle against the pregnancy that had tied her more securely to Jason. Maybe she’d just been a bad woman. I’d never understood her, and now I never would.
I knew I’d have to go talk to my brother. Though I’d told Jason to stay away from me, he wasn’t listening. When had he ever? Maybe he’d taken the temporary truce caused by Crystal’s death as a sign of a new state of things.
I sighed and went out the back door. Since I’d slept so late, I’d showered before I’d even made my coffee. I grabbed my old quilted pink jacket off the rack by the back door and pulled it over my jeans and sweater.
I put a mug of coffee on the ground by Jason, and I sat on the upright folding chair close to him. He didn’t turn his head, though he knew I was there. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses.
“You forgiven me?” he asked after he’d taken a gulp of coffee. His voice sounded hoarse and thick. I thought he’d been crying.
“I expect that sooner or later I might,” I said. “But I’ll never feel the same about you again.”
“God, you’ve gotten hard. You’re all the family I’ve got left.” The dark glasses turned to face me.You have to forgive me, because you’re all I have who can forgive .
I looked at him, feeling a little exasperated, a little sad. If I was getting harder, it was in response to the world around me. “If you need me so much, I guess you should have thought twice before you set me up like that.” I rubbed my face with my free hand. He had some family he didn’t know about, and I wasn’t going to tell him. He would only try to use Niall, too.
“When will they release Crystal’s body?” I asked.
“Maybe in a week,” he said. “Then we can have the funeral. Will you come?”
“Yes. Where will it be?”
“There’s a chapel out close to Hotshot,” he said. “It doesn’t look like much.”
“The Tabernacle Holiness Church?” It was a peeling, white ramshackle building way out in the country.
He nodded. “Calvin said they do the burials for Hotshot from there. One of the guys in Hotshot is the pastor for it.”
“Which one?”
“Marvin Norris.”
Marvin was Calvin’s uncle, though he was four years younger.
“I think I remember seeing a cemetery out back of the church.”
“Yeah. The community digs the hole, one of them puts together the coffin, and one of them does the service. It’s real homey and personal.”
“You’ve been to a funeral there before?”
“Yeah, in October. One of the babies died.”
There hadn’t been an infant death listed in the Bon Temps paper in months. I had to wonder if the baby had been born in a hospital or in one of the houses in Hotshot; if any trace of its existence had ever been recorded.
“Jason, have the police been by any more?”
“Over and over. But I didn’t do it, and nothing they say or ask can make that change. Plus, the alibi.”
I couldn’t argue that.
“How are you fixed as far as work goes?” I wondered if they would fire Jason. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in trouble. And though Jason was never guilty of the worst crimes attributed to him, sooner or later his reputation as being a generally okay guy would simply crumple for good.
“Catfish said to take time off until the funeral. They’re going to send a wreath to the funeral home when we get her body back.”
“What about Hoyt?”
“He hasn’t been around,” Jason said, sounding puzzled and hurt.
Holly, his fiancée, wouldn’t want him hanging around with Jason. I could understand that.
“Mel?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Jason said, brightening. “Mel comes by. We worked on his truck yesterday, and this weekend we’re going to paint my kitchen.” Jason smiled at me, but it faded fast. “I like Mel,” he said, “but I miss Hoyt.”
That was one of the most honest things I’d ever heard Jason say.
“Haven’t you heard anything about this, Sookie?” Jason asked me. “You know—the way youhear things? If you could steer the police in the right direction, they could find out who killed my wife and my baby, and I could get my life back.”
I didn’t think Jason was ever going to get his old life back. I was sure he wouldn’t understand, even if I spelled it out. But then I saw what was in his head in a moment of true clarity. Though Jason couldn’t verbalize these ideas, hedid understand, and he was pretending, pretending hard, that everything would be the same . . . if only he could get out from under the weight of Crystal’s death.
“Or if you tell us,” he said, “we’ll take care of it, Calvin and me.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said. What else could I say? I climbed out of Jason’s head and swore to myself I wouldn’t get inside again.
After a long silence, he got up. Maybe he’d been waiting to see if I’d offer to make lunch for him. “I guess I’ll go back home, then,” he said.
“Good-bye.”
I heard his truck start up a moment later. I went back in, hanging the jacket back where I’d gotten it.
Amelia had left me a note stuck to the milk carton in the refrigerator. “Hey, roomie!” it said by way of opening. “Sounded like you had company last night. Did I smell a vampire? Heard someone shut the back door about three thirty. Listen, be sure and check the answering machine. You got messages.”
Which Amelia had already listened to, because the light wasn’t blinking anymore. I pressed the Play button.