Hello again!

Just to explain the long time that has passed since the last chapter; well, spring arrived. It's a big deal in Sweden. But now we've got summer instead so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently. For all of you who might not remember which story this is and what's happened so far I include the last piece of the previous chapter with some Eric and Pam dialouge. I'm also fixing a few mistakes in the earlier chapters, but not enough to prompt you to re-read them, unless you want to of course.

Please enjoy!


"Two women have been murdered in Bon Temps. Sookie came to Fangtasia to find out more about it, and the photos she was showing us portrayed the victims. This concerns us because the humans are speculating that a vampire is guilty of the murders, since both women apparently had fang marks when they were discovered. One set did belong to me, so I assume that it's true about the older girl as well."

This shut her up, since she understood the PR mess this could create if it was left unattended.

"So, I will visit the unfortunate town tonight, and you will attend to the bar," I stated.

Pam groaned.

"But it's Friday! There's going to be a huge crowd!"

I merely arched my eyebrows at this. Honestly, Pam was getting too frequent with her wailing.

"Sorry, master. I'll be fine on my own," she said as she lowered her eyes.

"Good," I replied, and checked the time before leaving the house in her care. "I'll come back later when I'm done."

I drove swiftly towards Sookie's home town and called the Shreveport police. Fangtasia had received a modest fine last night, and I used this as a cover for learning some news of the fate of Alice. She was still being held in custody but would be released tomorrow. I'm sure she wasn't looking forward to it one bit.


Chapter Four

Bon Temps. One out of hundreds of typical red-neck towns within my area, and one that I had not had any reason to visit until now. On my way along the country road I contemplated why a vampire would choose to settle in such a place. It seemed a little odd to me that Bill would return to where he lived as a human; but then again, Bill was a little odd. Maybe it was truly a coincidence that he happened to end up right next door to the telepath. However, during my long life I had learned that unbelievable coincidences seldom happened at random. I was going to be very observant around him from now on, and hopefully any hidden agenda of his would soon reveal itself.

I pulled into the parking lot of Merlotte's and glanced around at the sad excuses for cars that were parked all around: dust-laden trucks and run-down family wagons. What a depressing place, I thought as I left my 'vette and went inside.

Almost everyone's eyes were on me the instant I entered the establishment. It's somewhat flattering to have such an impact on people, but it can be inconvenient at times as well. I couldn't see Sookie anywhere, so I went up to the bar. The bartender was a shifter, and therefore presumedly the owner of the place.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, after acknowledging my presence with a nod. "We carry Tru Blood, B-positive and O-negative."

"O-negative, please," I replied.

He went to heat it up and I turned around to look for a suitable booth, hopefully one that Sookie would be working. If she was working tonight. It suddenly hit me that she might not even be here; why had I not thought about that possibility earlier? I mentally shook myself and returned my attention to the shifter.

"Sam Merlotte, I assume?" I said to him as he returned with my bottle and put it down in front of me.

"Yes, and you are?"

"I'm Eric Northman."

He stiffened slightly when he heard my name and I took it to mean that he knew who I was.

"I understand that there is some speculation about the recent homicides in the area," I continued. "As a bar owner, I'm sure that you are aware of most of the town gossip. Tell me, is there something the media hasn't covered that I should know of?"

"I don't know anything about that," he said. "Why don't you carry out your own investigation and find out who killed my waitress?"

"Your waitress? Dawn Green, perhaps?"

"How do you… Wait, never mind..." he replied, seemingly taken aback by my suggestion.

"Well, both girls that were killed were so-called fang-bangers. I would like to know if the locals believe it was a vampire who killed them," I told him, clearly expecting an answer. "And if the police believe so, too."

"Some do, you'll have to ask them yourself," he stated, clearly not volunteering any more information, then turned to another customer who really didn't need any more to drink. Who does he think he is? When I ask questions, I get answers. The sooner, the better for the informee.

I put a ten on the counter, picked up my bottle and went over to sit down in an empty booth along the front windows. There wasn't much of a crowd despite the weekend coming up. A family having dinner, a few guys drinking by the pool table and maybe ten other odd locals scattered around in various degrees of intoxication. And Sookie Stackhouse emerging from the employee-only area.

She froze mid-step once she realised I was sitting there, watching her. Surely it couldn't be that much of a shock? I smiled at her until she shrugged and went over to speak with the shifter, before making her rounds. Soon she arrived at my booth.

"Hi, can I get you anything?" she asked.

"Good evening, Sookie. And no, thank you. Maybe later." I replied, and leaned forward a little before I continued.

"I am sorry for how your date ended last night, and I hope to convince you to give my bar another chance."

"I'm not sure that it's my kind of place, but thanks anyway. Now, I need to be working, so I'll have to catch up with you later," she replied, slightly nervous.

Did I do something? Were my fangs showing? No, nothing. I had given her no reason to be nervous and yet she avoided me even here, on her own turf, surrounded by familiar faces. I wondered what Bill had managed to do to further scare her off since yesterday night.

Her ponytail bounced around as she busied herself, but since there wasn't too much to do, I soon signalled for her to return. When she did, she noticed that I hadn't even touched the synthetic.

"Eric, why are you here? I can't believe you drove all the way over from Shreveport just to try to get one more customer to your bar. It seemed popular enough to me."

"That's true, I'm not here to coach you into returning to my establishment, although that would be lovely. I wanted to finish our conversation from last night. Would you mind sitting down and talking with me for a while?"

"Oh. Okay," she said as she sat down opposite me.

"Tell me, what is your interest in these killings that makes you conduct your very own private investigation?" I asked her.

"I just want the murderer caught, that's all."

"Is that so?" I asked, obviously not fooled by her altruism.

"And the police believe that maybe my brother did it, but I know he's innocent."

That the police had a human suspect was exactly what I wanted to hear, but it would be better if it was the real culprit. "You know that he is innocent?"

"Yes, Eric. I know that he is innocent."

"Then I'm sure the police will realise this as well, don't you agree? Do you think that it was a vampire?"

"Bill is convinced that it wasn't."

"And what do you think?"

There was a short pause before she replied.

"No, I don't think so."

"What do the police believe?"

Oh, I should not have gone there. It was almost visible how her mood shifted, with her eyes shooting angry sparks and the heat rising in her face.

"I'm not going to tell you what I hear in their heads, if that's what you think, mister!" she lashed out. "Their private thoughts are their own, and you have no right to meddle with that."

"All right then, I will have to get in touch with them myself. Do the people in charge of the investigation come into this bar often? During the evening?"

"Bud does sometimes, he's the local sheriff. Andy is the detective, but he's more frequently here for lunch."

"Do you think you could call me to let me know if they come by?"

Suddenly she became much more vary.

"Why? What is your interest in this investigation?"

"I just want the murderer caught, that's all," I replied smugly, using her own words back at her.

"No, you don't. Why would you care if a few more discarded fang-bangers went missing and were found dead?"

"Surely you understand that we vampires would like to put an end to these speculations about a fanged murderer," I replied, quite seriously.

"I guess I can see your point," she admitted and started fidgeting with the stuff in her apron pocket. Maybe I should have refuted the notion of discarding the used fang-bangers?

"Are you scared of me?" I asked her, when the silence started to draw out and she kept refusing to meet my eyes.

"Shouldn't I be scared?" she replied. "I'm sure you could kill me, right here, as easily as most of us swat a horsefly, and nobody would even notice until it was too late."

"Now that would be pretty stupid of me, wouldn't it? That way I'd never get to experience your beautiful skin flushed with heat and arousal."

She blushed and looked like she couldn't decide whether she should be upset or take it as a compliment.

"Has something happened to make you so reserved? I can tell this is not simply caution of the unknown. Has Bill mistreated you in any way? I will make sure he regrets it, if that is the case."

"Oh, no! He's been a perfect gentleman. Well, mostly, anyway. But I did meet some of his friends, and they were real creepy."

"When did you meet them?"

"Well, I went over to his house a couple of days ago to drop off some phone numbers that I was helping him with, and he had these three vamps from Monroe visiting. They really scared me."

"And they were gross," she added as an afterthought.

Three vampires from Monroe, non-mainstreaming I took it. I would have to put an end to them stirring up trouble in my area.

"I hope they won't trouble you any more. If they do, you should give me a call. That is, if you would permit me to give you my number."

"Oh, okay. What is it?"

"May I have your cell? I'll program it for you."

"I don't have a cell phone."

"You don't have a cell phone."

"No, I don't," she stated.

What kind of person doesn't have a cell phone these days? I fished out a business card for Fangtasia from my inside pocket.

"So what's your home phone number?" I asked her as I handed it over.

"What do you need my number for?" she asked, still very cautious.

I took both of her hands between mine and looked her straight in her eyes before I smiled.

"Sookie. I need it in order to ask you out."