From Dead to Worse (Sookie Stackhouse #8)(68)
Author: Charlaine Harris

The coffee was great, the toast delicious spread with blueberry jam. Even my taste buds were happy. After I cleaned up from breakfast, I was practically singing with the pleasure of solitude. I went back to my room to make my bed and put on my makeup.

Of course, that was when the knock came at the back door, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I stepped into some shoes and went to answer it.

Tray Dawson was there, and he was smiling. "Sookie, your car is doing fine," he said. "I had to do a little replacing here and there, and it’s the first time I ever had to scrape vampire ash off an undercarriage, but you’re good to go."

"Oh, thanks! Can you come in?"

"Just for a minute," he said. "You got a Coke in the refrigerator?"

"I sure do." I brought him a Coke, asked if he wanted some cookies or a peanut butter sandwich to go with it, and when he’d turned that down, I excused myself to finish my makeup. I’d figured Dawson would run me to the car, but he’d driven it over to my place, as it turned out, so I’d need to give him a ride instead.

I had my checkbook out and my pen in hand when I sat at the table opposite the big man and asked him how much I owed him.

"Not a dime," Dawson said. "The new guy paid for it."

"The new king?"

"Yeah, he called me in the middle of the night last night. Told me the story, more or less, and asked me if I could look at the car first thing in the morning. I was awake when he called, so it didn’t make me no nevermind. I got over to Merlotte’s this morning, told Sam he wasted a phone call since I already knew all about it. I followed him while he drove the car out to my place, and we put it up on the rack and had a good look."

This was a long speech for Dawson. I put my checkbook back in my purse and listened, silently asking him if he wanted more Coke by pointing at his glass. He shook his head, letting me know he was satisfied. "We had to tighten up a few things, replace your windshield fluid reservoir. I knew just where another car like yours was at Rusty’s Salvage, and it didn’t take no time to do the job."

I could only thank him again. I drove Dawson out to his repair shop. Since the last time I’d driven by, he’d trimmed up the front yard of his home, a modest but tidy frame house that stood next door to the big shop. Dawson had also put all the bits and pieces of motorcycles under cover somewhere, instead of having them strewn around in a handy but unattractive spread. And his pickup was clean.

As Dawson slid out of the car, I said, "I’m so grateful. I know cars aren’t your specialty and I do appreciate your working on mine." Repairman to the underworld, that was Tray Dawson.

"Well, I did it because I wanted to," Dawson said, and then he paused. "But if you could see your way to it, I’d sure like it if you’d put in a word for me with your friend Amelia."

"I don’t have much influence over Amelia," I said. "But I’ll be glad to tell her what a sterling character you are."

He smiled very broadly: no suppression there. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Dawson crack such a grin. "She sure looks healthy," he said, and since I had no idea what Dawson’s criteria for admiration were, that was a big clue.

"You call her up, I’ll give a reference," I said.

"It’s a deal."

We parted happy, and he loped across the newly neat yard to his shop. I didn’t know if Dawson would be to Amelia’s taste or not, but I’d do my best to persuade her to give him a chance.

As I drove home, I listened to the car for any strange noise. It purred away.

Amelia and Octavia came in as I was leaving for work.

"How are you feeling?" Amelia said with a knowing air.

"Fine," I said automatically. Then I understood she thought I hadn’t come home the night before. She thought I’d been having a good time with someone. "Hey, you remember Tray Dawson, right? You met him at Maria-Star’s apartment."

"Sure."

"He’s going to call you. Be sweet."

I left her grinning after me as I got into my car.

For once, work was boring and normal. Terry was substituting since Sam hated to work on Sunday afternoons. Merlotte’s was having a calm day. We opened late on Sunday and we closed early, so I was ready to start home by seven. No one showed up in the parking lot, and I was able to walk directly to my car without being accosted for a long, weird conversation or being attacked.

The next morning I had errands to run in town. I was short on cash, so I drove to the ATM, waving at Tara Thornton du Rone. Tara smiled and waved back. Marriage was suiting her, and I hoped she and JB were having a happier time of it than my brother and his wife. As I drove away from the bank, to my astonishment I spotted Alcide Herveaux coming out of the offices of Sid Matt Lancaster, an ancient and renowned lawyer. I pulled into Sid Matt’s parking lot, and Alcide came over to talk to me.

I should have driven on, hoping he hadn’t noticed me.

The conversation was awkward. Alcide had had a lot to deal with, in all fairness. His girlfriend was dead, brutally murdered. Several other members of his pack were also dead. He’d had a huge cover-up to arrange. But he was now the leader of the pack, and he had gotten to celebrate his victory in the traditional way. In hindsight, I suspect he was fairly embarrassed at having sex with a young woman in public, especially so soon after his girlfriend’s death. This was quite a bundle of emotions I was reading in his head, and he was flushed when he came to my car window.

"Sookie, I haven’t had a chance to thank you for all your help that night. It’s lucky for us your boss decided to come with you."

Yeah, since you wouldn’t have saved my life and he did, I’m glad, too. "No problem, Alcide," I said, my voice wonderfully even and calm. I was going to have a good day, dammit. "Have things settled down in Shreveport?"

"The police don’t seem to have a clue," he said, glancing around to make sure no one else was within hearing distance. "They haven’t found the site yet, and there’s been a lot of rain. We’re hoping sooner rather than later they’ll cut back on their investigation."

"You-all still planning the big announcement?"

"It’ll have to be soon. The heads of other packs in the area have been in contact with me. We don’t have a meeting of all the leaders like the vampires do, mostly because they have one leader for each state and we have a hell of a lot of packleaders. Looks like we’ll all elect a representative from the packleaders, one from each state, and those representatives will go to a national meeting."

"That sounds like a step in the right direction."

"Also, we might ask other wereanimals if they want to come in with us. Like, Sam could belong to my pack in an auxiliary way, though he’s not a Were. And it would be good if the lone wolves, like Dawson, came to some of the pack parties… came out howling with us or something."