“On Craig’s wedding day,” Trish said. She was angry and tearful and hurt. “Assholes!” Togo put a huge hand on Trish’s thin shoulder. She laid her cheek on it for just a moment. “I’m not surprised to hear Jim Collins is involved,” she continued. “Ever since we came out, he’s been posting hate messages on his website.”
“He has a website?” I said stupidly.
“Yeah, he’s Mr. Right Wing. One of my jobs is monitoring websites like his. They’ve sprung up everywhere since the vamps came out, and they sprouted like mushrooms when we did. I watch Jim’s especially closely since we’re in the same area. He’s even had postings from the Newlins.” Steve and Sarah Newlin were the leaders of the radical religious underground in America. “Jim’s website backs every extreme conservative position you can think of. Some of his principles I actually agree with, though it chokes me to say so. But most of his beliefs are so radical they scare me, and he doesn’t seem to care how people will be hurt as a consequence of acting on those beliefs. Obviously, he doesn’t care about animals,” she added quietly.
Togo Olympio had entered one of the pens and bent over to touch the side of one of the fallen dogs. Flies were swarming now, and though I hadn’t noticed their buzzing before, it droned in my ears. His dark eyes met mine, and I shivered. I was glad we were on the same side.
“I have to go back to the house and tell them,” I said. “What will happen at the wedding if people are this determined to do them harm?”
“That’s the big question, isn’t it?” Trish said. She was pulling herself together. “Quinn says you’re a friend of the shifters and the vampires though you’re human.”
I saw Quinn twitch out of the corner of my eye.
“But you’re not completely human, right?” Trish persisted.
“No, ma’am.” My bloodline wasn’t exactly her concern, I figured, so I stopped at that.
“If you’re Sam’s friend, you’re special already,” she said, nodding to indicate she’d made a quick decision. I felt absurdly pleased. “Well, Sookie, Togo roams through every few weeks, and he and I are the scandal of the county. I’ve known Quinn, here, for years. Together, maybe we can hold back this hatred long enough for the young people to get married. After the wedding’s over, I’m hoping like hell that feeling dies down and things go back to normal.”
“Did you come out?” I asked. “With the other wereanimals?”
“This town’s always thought I was a wild card, and no one was that surprised.” Trish smiled broadly. “Bernie—she shocked everyone because she always seemed like Hannah Housewife; she and her first husband had such a great marriage, such good kids. Then, after she married Don . . . That was the trouble, Don’s going nuts like that. His reaction was so violent and public, though I don’t think he was in his right mind. Look, let’s get out of here. All of this is making me sick.”
I glanced at Quinn, and he nodded. “Togo and I’ll come back later and dig a pit,” he said, answering a question I hadn’t wanted to ask.
To my surprise, Togo brought out a digital camera and began taking pictures. “My brothers and sisters need to know,” he told me when he saw me watching. “This is to post on our own websites.”
This just got more and more interesting.
“I’ve got to get back. I’m sorry I can’t help you clean up,” I said, which was a total lie. I was hugely relieved to have good reason to avoid burying the poor dogs. “Where are the cats?” I asked, struck by the fact that all the corpses were canine.
“I keep the cats at my place, thank God,” Trish said, and I could only say Amen to that.
I walked back through the little building. When I got to the parking lot, I leaned against Sam’s truck. The awfulness of the morning rolled over me again like a heavy wave. It was abominable that someone had slaughtered innocent dogs in a vicious attempt to ruin a day that should be happy. I felt the swell of a huge anger. I’d always had a slow temper. I didn’t get really angry very often. But when I did, I did it right and proper. Since my time in the hands of the fae, my control over that anger seemed to have slipped. The second wave, the weight of my rage, threatened to pull me under. I’m not myself, I thought distantly.
It took a moment for the feeling to pass. When I was sure I was in control, I opened the door of the truck, dreading my return to the Merlotte house with the burden of my bad news.
What a lousy, rotten way to start the day.
“Sookie,” Quinn said, and I turned to show him my face. I paused with one foot on the running board.
“All right,” he said carefully. “I get it that you’re way upset now, and so am I. But I’ve got to talk to you sometime.”
“I understand,” I said with equal care. “And we’ll try to make the chance. Putting all personal issues aside, I’m glad you’re here. Sam’s family is up against more than we know. You’re willing to help?” My eyes were telling him I’d think less of him if he wasn’t.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “Of course I’ll help. Trish will put out a bulletin on the Web. It’s probably too late for much of anyone to come, since Wright’s out in the middle of nowhere, but we’ll all help. And I’m putting personal problems aside. For now.” I looked up into his eyes, and I read in his head that he was serious, determined, and unswerving.
“I’d better go,” I said. “You know where Bernie lives?”
“Yeah, we followed you at a distance. You spotted us, right? I hope you didn’t call Eric.”
I was a little shocked. “I wouldn’t do that, Quinn.”
“You didn’t protest too much when Bill showed up at your house and beat the hell out of me the last time I tried to talk to you.”
Eric had ordered Bill to intervene, since he’d banned Quinn from his area. “Excuse me,” I said sharply. “You’ll remember I was knocked unconscious! What happened to putting personal issues aside? You got Sam’s number? You got the same cell as you did?”
We swapped phone numbers before Quinn returned to the building. I had to face the fact that there was nothing to keep me from driving back to Bernie’s house. As I negotiated the streets of Wright, I found myself looking at each person I passed. Who was our friend? Who was our enemy?
A lightning bolt of a thought hit me. I was almost all human. I could legitimately claim this wasn’t my fight.
No, I couldn’t. I’d be as bad as Deidra’s bridesmaids.
I’d been Sam’s friend for years, and his family was human, too. I’d already taken a side, and there was no point in reviewing it.
I pondered Quinn’s appearance. His story had amazed me. He’d gone to a huge amount of trouble and inconvenience to rendezvous with me here in Texas, and he’d only been acting on a tip.
I’d had a brief but ardent relationship with Quinn before I’d broken up with him—awkwardly and painfully—over family issues . . . his family issues. I’d been feeling guilty ever since, though I still thought I’d made the wise decision. Quinn seemed to think we had more to discuss, and possibly he was right, but I wanted to get through one crisis at a time.
I looked at the dashboard clock when I parked in front of the house. I’d been gone only forty-five minutes. I sure felt a lot more than forty-five minutes older. I got out and crossed the yard to the front door.
As I came close to the damn sign, I ripped it out of the ground. Moving with a lot more velocity, I strode over to the neighbor’s house. Jim Collins was looking out of his open front window when I jabbed the stake into his dirt. Well, yee-haw. “You damn murderer,” I said, and then I made myself walk away before I climbed through the window to choke Collins.
His creased face had been shocked and almost frightened, and for a blinding second I’d felt sorry that he didn’t have a weak heart. After seeing the pathetic heaps of blood and fur, I would have enjoyed the sensation of scaring him to death.
I didn’t knock on Bernie’s door since I was staying there, and once I was inside, I went right to the kitchen at the back of the house. Sam, Bernie, and Craig were all there. They looked eerily alike as I appeared in the kitchen: apprehensive, upset, unhappy.