“Hmmm,” said Andy. He didn’t like to think I’d strangled Arlene, and he didn’t believe I could have gotten her in the Dumpster by myself. But, he thought, don’t people who drink vampire blood get real strong, for a while? This was one reason vamp blood was the hottest illegal drug around.
I started to tell him out loud that I hadn’t had any vampire blood in a long time. But luckily, I thought twice.
There was no point in reminding Andy that I could read his thoughts. And there was no point in telling him that I had been very strong from vamp blood . . . but in the past.
I sagged against the wall of the trailer. If Sam’s mother could provide Sam an alibi, and if Andy believed Bernie . . . that would leave me as prime suspect. Karin would back up my story, I was certain, but in the eyes of the local law, her testimony would be almost worthless. Andy would be less likely to believe Karin simply because she was a vampire. Other officers who were familiar with the vampire world would believe Karin would have helped me dump Arlene’s body if I’d asked her, because she was Eric’s child and Eric was my boyfriend, as far as everyone knew.
Hell, I was pretty sure Karin would have killed Arlene for me, if I’d asked. It might take Andy and Alcee a while to figure that out, but they would.
“Andy,” I said, “I couldn’t get Arlene in that Dumpster if I tried for a month, not without a hoist. You want to test me for vampire blood, you go right ahead. You won’t find any in my system. If I’d choked Arlene to death, I hope I wouldn’t leave my scarf around her neck. You may not think much of me, but I’m not dumb.”
Andy said, “Sookie, I never have known what to think of you.” And he walked away.
“That could have gone better,” Sam said, in a huge understatement. “I remember you wearing that scarf last winter. You wore it to church, tied around your ponytail, with a black dress.”
Well. You never know what men will remember. I started to feel a little touched and tender. Sam said, “You were sitting right in front of me, and I was looking at the back of your head the whole service.”
I nodded. That was more like it. “I wish I knew what had happened to it since then. I’d like to know who got it out of my house and used it on Arlene. I know I wore it to the bar once. I don’t know if it got lifted out of my purse or stolen from my drawer in my bedroom. That’s gross and sneaky.” At that moment I remembered my drawer being ajar. I wrinkled my nose, thinking of someone pawing through my scarves and panties. And one or two things had seemed to be out of place. I told Sam about the little incident. “It doesn’t sound like much when I say it out loud, though,” I concluded ruefully.
He smiled, just a little upturn of his lips, but I was glad to see it. His hair was wilder than usual, which was saying something. The sun caught the reddish bristles on his chin. “You need to shave,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed, but absently. “We’ll check it out. I was wondering . . . Andy knows you can read minds. But it seems like he can’t keep that in his head when he’s talking to you. Does that happen a lot?”
“He knows, but he doesn’t know. He’s not the only one who acts that way. The people who do get that I’m different—not just a little crazy—they still don’t seem to get it completely. Andy’s a true believer. He really understands that I can see what’s in his head. But he just can’t adapt to that.”
“You can’t hear me that way,” Sam said, just to reaffirm what he already knew.
“General mood and intent, I pick up. But not specific thoughts. That’s always the way with supernaturals.”
“Like?”
It took me a minute to interpret that. “Like, right now I can tell you’re worried, you’re glad I’m here, you’re wishing we’d cut the scarf off her neck before the police got here. It’s easy to get that, because I’m wishing the same damn thing.”
Sam grimaced. “That’s what I get for being squeamish. I knew there was something around her throat, but I didn’t want to look any closer. And I definitely didn’t want to touch her again.”
“Who would?” We fell silent. We sweated. We watched. Since we were sitting on Sam’s own steps, looking over his own hedge, they could hardly tell us to go away. After a while, I got so bored that I called or texted the people due to work today to tell them to come in at three. I thought of all the lawyers I knew, and debated which one to call if I had to. Beth Osiecki had prepared my will, and I’d liked her real well. Her partner, Jarrell Hilburn, had prepared the document that formalized my loan to Sam to keep the business afloat, and he’d also prepared the paperwork giving me part interest in the bar.
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.”