Dead Ever After (Sookie Stackhouse #13)(18)
Author: Charlaine Harris

I was surprised at her decision. Sam appeared far from recovered. "He seems pretty unhappy," I said, trying to sound nonjudgmental.

"I can’t make him happy," Bernie said. "He’s got all the raw material. He just has to work with it. He’s going to be all right." She gave a little nod, as if once she said the words, he had to be so.

Bernie had always seemed like a down-to-earth woman; however, I thought she was a little too dismissive of Sam’s emotional recovery. I could hardly insist she stay. After all, Sam was in his thirties.

"Okay," I said uncertainly. "Well, you have a good night, and call me if you need me."

Bernie got out of the chair and knelt before me. "I owe you a life," she said. She got to her feet more easily than I would have, though she was almost twice my age. And then she was gone.

ELSEWHERE

in Bon Temps

"She said no," Arlene Fowler told the tall man and the medium man. The old trailer was hot and the door was open. It was musty and cluttered inside. No one had lived in it for a while. The sun flowed through the bullet holes, creating odd patterns of light on the opposite wall. Arlene was sitting in an old chrome-and-vinyl dinette chair while her two guests sat forward on the battered couch.

"You knew she would have to," said the medium man, a bit impatiently. "We expected that."

Arlene blinked. She said, "Then why’d I have to go through it? It just made me feel terrible. And it took time off from what I had to spend going over to see my kids."

"I am sure they were glad to see you?" the medium man said, his pale eyes fixed on Arlene’s worn face.

"Yes," she said, with a small smile. "They were real glad. Chessie, not so much. She loves them kids. They looked like they’d settled in there. They’re doing real well in school, both of them."

Neither of the men was at all interested in the children’s progress or welfare, but they made approving noises.

"You made sure to go through the bar’s front entrance?" the tall man asked.

Arlene nodded. "Yeah, I spoke to three people. Just like you said. Am I through now?"

"We need you to do one more thing," the tall man said, his voice smooth as oil and twice as soothing. "And it won’t be hard."

Arlene sighed. "What’s that?" she said. "I need to be looking for a place to live. I can’t bring my kids here." She glanced around her.

"If it weren’t for our intervention, you wouldn’t be at liberty to see your children," the medium man said gently, but his expression wasn’t gentle at all.

Arlene felt a prickle of misgiving. "You’re threatening me," she said, but hardly as if that surprised her. "What do you want me to do?"

"You and Sookie were good friends," the tall man said.

She nodded. "Real good friends," she said.

"So you know where she keeps an extra key outside her house," the medium man said.

"Yes, I do," she said. "You planning on breaking in?"

"It’s not really breaking in if you have a key, is it?" The medium man smiled, and Arlene tried to smile back.

"I guess not," she said.

"Then what we need is for you to use that key and go inside. Open the drawer in her bedroom where she keeps her scarves. Bring us a scarf you’ve seen her wear before."

"A scarf," Arlene said. "What you going to do with it?"

"Nothing to worry about," the tall man said. He smiled, too. "You can be sure she won’t enjoy the result. And since she turned you down for a job, and since you wouldn’t be here in this place if it weren’t for her, that shouldn’t bother you at all."

Arlene mulled that over for a moment. "I guess it doesn’t," she said.

"Well, you know she’s at work now," said the medium man. "So I think right now would be a good time to go there. And in case her house is warded, carry this." He handed her a strange old coin. At least, it looked old, and it was surprisingly heavy for its size. "Keep it in your pocket at all times," he said.

Arlene was startled. She looked down at the small object dubiously before she put it in her pocket. "Well, okay. I’ll go to Sookie’s now. Then I got to go look at rental places. When will that money be in my account?"

"Tomorrow," the tall man assured her. "And you’ll find your own place, and your kids will be able to move back in with you."

"And this is all you want me to do? I asked her for a job, and in a little bit I go get a scarf from her drawer? With this thing in my pocket?"

"Well, you’ll have to meet us and give us the scarf and coin," the tall man said, shrugging. "That’s no big deal."

"Okay," said Arlene. "If my old car will make it there. It isn’t doing too good after being parked in Chessie’s backyard since I been in jail."

"Here’s some gas money," the tall man said, pulling out his wallet and handing Arlene some cash. "We wouldn’t want you running out of gas."

"No," said the medium man. "We wouldn’t want that."

"I’ll call you on that cell phone you gave me, when I got the scarf," Arlene said. "We can meet tonight."

The two men looked at each other silently. "Tonight will be great," the tall man said after a second or two. "Just great."

Chapter 5

I saw Terry Bellefleur for the second time that day while I was putting gas in my car at the Grabbit Kwik. He was filling up his pickup. Terry’s Catahoula, Annie, was in the back of the truck. She was interested in everything that was going on at the gas station, though she was panting heavily in the heat.

I knew just how she felt. I was glad I’d waited until evening to take care of this task. At least the pavement didn’t look like it was rippling, and I didn’t have to let my tongue hang out.

After Terry pulled his charge slip from the pump, I called to him. He turned and brightened. "Hey, Sook. How’s Sam doing? I was glad to see you today. I wish I’d sat at your tables instead of that An’s. She talks the hind leg off a donkey."

He was the only guy I knew who didn’t want to howl at the moon when he saw An Norr. "Sam may be back on the job tomorrow," I said.

"Crazy, you both getting sick at the same time."

He was also the only person in Bon Temps who would say that without leering. I’d "overheard" several comments in the bar today about Sam and me both being AWOL for four days. "So, how’s Jimmie?" I asked. Jimmie was his girlfriend; at least I thought that was their relationship. I was pleased to see that Terry’s hair had been cut and combed, and that he’d shaved in the past couple of days. Jimmie was a good influence.