The next morning I let myself sleep in. Trying to keep vampire hours, if only one or two nights a week, had caught up with me. Once I got out of bed I had tea and toast and tidied up a bit. My gran had kept a clean house, and I was embarrassed to know she could be looking down and seeing my dirty laundry piled up or the dust that accumulated on my furniture. I don't know if there is a heaven and if there is, I'm not certain I'll get there, but if I do, I don't want to be chastised for my slovenly ways by my grandmother as soon as I pass through the pearly gates. Once my little back room apartment was cleaned up I made myself presentable should a potential client wander by.
Which they hadn't been doing much of lately. I'd had a few quick, easy jobs, spying on spouses and business partners, but business had been dry the last few weeks. I had almost convinced myself to stop twiddling my thumbs at my desk organizing files I'd never need and go visit Amelia in her shop, when the little bell signaled the entrance of a potential client.
I stood up and straightened my shirt, then greeted a stout man in a frumpy grey suit.
"Good afternoon, may I help you?" I said in my most ingratiating voice. He didn't look like a high dollar client, but I hated judging people by appearances, and my bank account balance was running dangerously low. I'd take any client at this point.
"Looking for Stackhouse. Why don't you round him up and get me a cup of coffee while you're at it," he said in the sweet Southern drawl of a man used to having women waiting on him hand and foot.
"Sorry, sir, but I'm fresh out of coffee. If that's what you came for, there's a great cafe across the way. If you're looking for Stackhouse, well then you've found her."
I smiled as the realization sank in. He was certainly not the first to assume that Stackhouse the private investigator was a man. I ushered the comparison to a similar exchange I'd had with Eric the night we'd first met out of my mind. This potential client was not nearly as suave. He turned beet red at my unexpected revelation.
"I'm so sorry! I just assumed…I hope you're not offended. I knew I was going to mess this up. See, I really need your help."
The man was so flustered I had to bite back a laugh. I could tell from his fragmented, frustrated thoughts that he really did have a problem, and not with his wife, so the prospect of a real mystery got me excited. Plus, I needed the distraction from whatever had transpired between Eric and me last night, not to mention the paycheck.
"You remember the warehouse down by the water, went up in flames last week?" he asked.
"Sure, I do…" I really didn't, but it wasn't hard to pick the details up from his thoughts. "But why don't you slow down, Mister…"
"I didn't even introduce myself! Graham. Jack Graham." He held out his hand to shake, then pulled it back because he thought it impolite for a man to initiate a handshake with a woman.
"Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Graham, and tell me what brings you here."
"Well, the warehouse fire. It was ruled an arson, but the police aren't doing anything to investigate. But I'm suspicious and worried that whoever did it will attack again, and this time it might prove deadly. I need to know who was responsible. Someone told me you have a way of finding things out that the police miss. Whatever the cost, it doesn't matter."
"Well, Mr. Graham, I haven't ever investigated arson before. I can't guarantee results, but I can promise I'll do my best."
Relief washed over his face. He'd been afraid it would take more convincing. What he didn't know was how slow business had been. I'd have taken a case tracking down a missing cat if someone was willing to pay.
We discussed the details. Where the warehouse was, who might have had a grudge against someone, possible motivations, but Mr. Graham didn't have a lot of details and wasn't very helpful. Though I wasn't sure where to start, I told him I'd check back with him in a few days with my progress. He left a check for the retainer and promised an even bigger chunk of change if my investigation turned up the arsonist.
The rest of the afternoon I spent reading the newspaper articles about the warehouse fire, then took a trip down to the police station to find out which officers had been assigned to the case to see if I could get a peek in their thoughts, but didn't have any luck. My investigation skills work best if I had more to start from, so it was discouraging to find so little.
When night fell, I found myself wandering back to the unnamed club. I told myself it was to pick through the minds of the criminal elements, but Pam didn't buy it.
"Two nights in a row, Sookie? You're becoming quite the fixture around here. And Eric's out at the moment."
"I didn't come to see him. I've got a new case. I thought I might pick up a lead among the unsavory characters that flock to this fine establishment." I gave Pam my best smile, and she almost returned it.
"Very well," she said, and let me enter.
It was a busy night, busier than I'd seen it since it opened. The conversation was loud enough to overwhelm, even if the roar of peoples' thoughts hadn't been available to me. It took me a moment to orient myself as I slid onto a barstool.
The new bartender, a true New Orleans character complete with a wicked grin and an eye patch, started to pour a gin. "Oh, no, Charles, just water tonight." I said. "I'm working tonight."
"Ah, Sookie, I didn't take you for a working girl, and I never knew one of 'em to turn down a drink," he said, flashing me that wide, crooked smile. The dim light of the smoky bar caught the gold tooth set in just behind his canines. I wondered if he'd had the tooth capped before or after he'd acquired his set of fangs.
I tried not to be offended by his insinuation. Charles had come to New Orleans on a pirate ship, and the only profession he thought women capable of was the world's oldest. "No, not that kind of work. Got a new case."
"Ah, that's right. You and your detective business. Scorned lovers? Is one of our fine clientele stepping out on his wife? Or is he making deals behind his business partner's back?"
"It's actually an arson investigation. That old warehouse that burned down last week. Police aren't very motivated to pursue it. At least not enough for the owner."
Charles eyes widened just the tiniest bit. A casual observer might not have noticed his surprise, but I was tuned to these tells. "Now Sookie, you're too pretty to get mixed up in that business."
I wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, and didn't have a chance to decide before Eric walked into the bar.
Our eyes met, just briefly, and then he turned away and found Pam, then pulled her into a dark corner and spoke in hushed whispers.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting to have him ignore me, but I hadn't come here to see him tonight.
"What sort of business is that?" I asked, turning back to Charles, who was done pouring a round of whiskeys for a group of rough looking men.
"Maybe it's too late for you. But I wouldn't go around asking questions you might not want to know the answers to," was all he said. Vampires and their damn cryptic ways.
Eric and Pam had disappeared into the back office for a long time, and I sat around, picking up pieces of conversations and thoughts, none of them helpful. A sense of dread overcame me. What if I couldn't solve this case? What if I didn't get any more work? A single woman in New Orleans had limited options for supporting herself. I was breaking the mold as it was. I knew there were other ways to use my gift. I could give the men who sat around playing poker a run for their money any day, but that didn't seem right or fair. I could use it to steal, to threaten, to blackmail. The only problem was my grandmother had raised me better than that, perhaps because she knew my gift gave me a dangerous power I could use to exploit others. But thanks to her years of moral training, I couldn't bring myself to do that.
I didn't want to think about what I'd be forced to do if I couldn't keep my business alive.
Just when I was ready to call it a night, Rose came on to sing one last song. As she belted out a tune over a saxophone melody, I caught Eric watching from the shadows. His eyes were far away, and though his gaze rested on Rose I knew that was not what his eyes were seeing.
I slipped out before the song was over without speaking a word to Eric. I certainly had more important things than my love affair with a vampire on my mind, and apparently, so did he.
