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Chapter 7:

The first ten minutes of the drive were silent. I was too preoccupied with praying to stay alive while desperately clinging to the chicken grips above the door and applying my foot to the imaginary brake pedal.

Why?

Because Eric was driving like a maniac!

That's why!

He was going at least twice the posted speed limit but I didn't say anything. I couldn't! I was concentrating on sucking air into my lungs while inertia pressed me into the seat.

Somehow I was grateful though – in a fucked up kind of way - because I didn't even think for one second about what was waiting for me at home.

Eric gave me sidelong glances once in a while and his lips formed into a small smirk.

Was he amused that I was freaked out of my mind?

Asshole!

"Relax, there's no need to be afraid. I will not crash us. My vampire senses will not allow it. For as long as there have been cars I have never crashed one, not even a small dent."

Hah, easier said than done. I couldn't even see the trees and fields we were passing: It was all a blur. My little human mind couldn't think of anything else other than: too fast, too fast. We're going to crash!

Speaking of human, "Just because you have vampire reflexes doesn't mean the other drivers do. I would even say 99% of them are human and don't forget: We live in deer country and it's the middle of the fucking night. You're going so fast they wouldn't be able to see us. They could pull out at the shittiest of moments or an animal could run onto the street. You won't be able to react fast enough to evade it quickly. We could crash or overturn. Jesus Christ," I exclaimed as he went barreling around a hairpin turn.

His eyebrow rose into his hairline, "You said you need to get back to your grandmother as fast as possible."

Oh, now this is my fault?

My nostrils flared in rage.

I couldn't say anything. Instead, I just glared at him.

For several moments nothing happened, he just smirked at me. Then finally – finally – he let up on the accelerator.

Not by much though.

I took a deep breath and bit my tongue in order to not say anything. At least I could make out the trees and other things along the road once again.

He appraised me with a calculating look and I knew nothing good would come out of his mouth next, "You know, there's one thing I'm curious about: Why didn't you ask your shifter boss for help with finding the murderer?"

I blinked.

Huh?

I eyed him, befuddled, "Shifter boss? What's that?"

Shifter … the word sounded familiar but I couldn't really explain it. I mean, I knew what it meant, obviously, but I didn't understand the connection. Something in me seemed to recognize the word though but I couldn't get access to it. There was an invisible brick wall between me and the … memory? Yes, it felt like I wanted to remember something but couldn't.

He turned his head around to look at me in surprise before he turned to the road again. "You don't know what you're working for?"

WhatI'm working for, I thought, still confused. My brows furrowed. Damn, my brain felt like molasses. As it finally clicked, I asked in surprise, "Sam?" And he didn't answer my question – again.

"Yes, the shifter!" He said innocently.

Too innocently.

And when I observed him closely his look equaled his tone. I knew it was fake.

I smelled a rat and its name was Eric! I narrowed my eyes at him, "That halo you're trying to polish is rusted, not tarnished Eric, so give it up. You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Eric said nothing, just smiled like the devil.

Bastard!

I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest and stared straight out the window, not at the asshole.

The moment he pointed it out to me I remembered that I had always had the feeling that Sam was more than he seemed to be but I had brushed it aside. But right then … again, I could not get access to those memories. It was like I reached out with my hand but only brushed it with my fingertips without being able to grasp it yet. It was like trying to catch the ring on the Merry-go-Round: It was there, I could touch it but I couldn't wrap my fingers around it.

My brain started working though. Question after question popped into my head and I started squirming while trying to hold them in.

I will not ask! No way in hell! What right did he have to rat someone out like that? If it was such a well-kept secret - like I had a feeling it was - it should come from Sam himself. So no, I will not ask!

After two tortuous minutes of trying not to ask I couldn't stand it anymore. Deflated, I finally asked, "Okay, I give. What's a shifter?"

His smile suddenly had an uncanny resemblance to 'The Grinch'.

Between Eric's driving like a lunatic - or maybe he was thinking of trying out for the Indy 500 - and his explanation about Shifters and Werewolves, or Weres for short, the drive between Shreveport and Bon Temps went by quickly.

I was fascinated and listened with rapt attention. I couldn't believe they were real but if I was honest with myself I was not really surprised. Deep down I had always known. Why should vampires be the only myth turned reality out there? And once again I had this strange feeling of a buried memory. What the hell was happening to me? Where was this coming from all of a sudden? It seemed like the night was getting weirder and weirder. In addition to talking to Eric and the call from my grandmother there had been this voice responding to my inner monologues and now I had these odd feelings of memories bubbling to the surface that were not my own.

My confusion was short lived though. As I directed him onto Hummingbird Road I could see blue emergency lights flashing between the trees.

My bad feeling came back full force and it turned into dread as we parked behind police cars and an ambulance as well.

Fuck!

Did something happen to Gran?

The thought hadn't even fully formed in my mind before I jumped out of the car and ran to the front door of the house which was wide open.

Once again I was stopped by Eric before I even crossed the threshold. I gave him an incredulous stare but he whispered into my ear, "You have to invite me in."

Oh! I'd completely forgotten about that.

"Sorry, come in, Eric," I said and made my way through the house. I went to the kitchen first because that's where most of the people were.

But I stopped short in the doorway when I saw what everyone else as looking at: There was blood.

Everywhere!

The floor, the walls and even the ceiling was splattered with it.

And then I saw why. My hand flew up to my mouth and I let out a strangled sob. My cat had been brutally murdered, slaughtered even, and her broken body was hanging from the ceiling fan which must have been turned on high so her blood would splatter everywhere.

It was a horrible sight!

But that was not the worst of it: the once white wall over the sink – and opposite me - was smeared with bloody red letters saying 'You're next, fangbanger!'

I stared, wide-eyed and paralyzed, at the scene in front of me, not even close to comprehending the situation.

Everyone had turned around when they heard me. Andy even stepped in front of me and tried to get my attention but I didn't hear him.

I was only shaken out of my numbness when cold hands touched my shoulders.

And then I remembered: Gran!

How could I have forgotten? My eyes widened, "Where's Gran," I asked, panicky all of a sudden.

"She's in the living room," Eric said, already turning me in that direction.

The way I found her made my blood run cold. She was lying on the couch with an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. Her skin was pale and a paramedic was kneeling next to her on the floor taking her blood pressure.

"Gran," I said when I arrived next to her: I took her hand when the paramedic had finished and taken a step back.

"Sookie, thank god you're okay," she said, her voice a little muffled from the mask.

I shook my head even before she finished and replied, "Why wouldn't I be? It's you I'm worried about." I gave the man next to me a questioning look.

"She has gone into shock. Her blood pressure is too low and I'm concerned about her heart. It would be better to take her to a hospital so these things can be monitored but she declines."

I whipped my head around, "But Gran, you should get checked out."

"No, all I need is a good night's sleep and I'll be right as rain," she explained stubbornly.

But I knew her well enough by then to know that wasn't the only reason. Yes, she had always hated hospitals but it wasn't worth throwing away her health. "If it's about the cost, I will handle it somehow," I had a hunch that that was the real reason for her saying no. We didn't have the money to pay for the tests they would very likely want to do there. If I signed the contract though we wouldn't need to worry about that anymore. The money I would earn working for Eric would make everything so much easier. Maybe I could buy her medical insurance. It would probably be expensive as hell but Gran was worth it.

"Sookie, I'm not going and that's final. I'll be okay," She laid her wrinkly hand on my cheek.

I sighed. Stubborn old woman! At least I knew where I got it from. "I'm so sorry about this. I should have stayed home. I should have been the one who discovered this instead of you."

Gran just shook her head, "There's nothing to be sorry for. You're doing the right thing by trying to help your brother," she soothed me, "And if that help means using less traditional means then so be it." She pointed with her head to a point behind me so I knew she meant Eric: He was standing behind me, observing the scene silently.

The paramedic took that as his cue to make an exit but not before making her sign a waiver that she didn't wish to follow his recommendations by going to the hospital. He also told her to take it easy. Hah, he didn't know my grandmother but maybe I could guilt her into making a doctor's appointment.

That's exactly what I did but as I said, she was stubborn, "I don't need a doctor to know that I'm getting old."

"But Gran, at least do it for Jason and me. We worry about you."

After a moment of thought she finally relented, "Alright, I will call the day after tomorrow."

My eyes narrowed. Was she procrastinating? "Why not tomorrow?"

"Because it's the day of the meeting where our dear Mr. Compton makes his grand speech," Urgh, don't remind me. "We still have too much to do for me to go to the doctor. Now help me up so I can meet our guest properly."

My lips turned into a thin line. I was not satisfied with her reasoning but apparently she had made up her mind.

I helped Gran into a more upright position and propped some pillows behind her back to make it more comfortable for her. When she was finally satisfied and comfortable she looked at me expectantly.

Oh yeah, right. "Gran, this is Eric Northman, owner of Fangtasia. Eric, meet my grandmother Adele Stackhouse."

Eric stepped around me and took her right hand to give a kiss to her knuckles. I was impressed. "It's nice to meet you Ma'am but I had hoped to meet you under better circumstances."

Charmer!

"Likewise Mr. Northman." She scrutinized him from head to toe, "You're quite the looker. I've already heard a lot about you and I was curious to meet you." I blushed crimson. Did she have to say it quite like that?

She turned her head towards me and said, trying to sound oh so innocent, "My dear, I'm quite thirsty. Could you bring me a glass of water please?"

I narrowed my eyes at her: I had not missed the mischievous glint in her eyes. She was sending me away so she could talk to Eric alone, or at least as alone as it would get with a house full of people. That could be good or bad so I was hesitant to leave.

Nevertheless I complied. The kitchen was out of the question so I went to her bathroom and rinsed out the cup that she always used when she brushed her teeth.

Returning as fast as I could I gave her the cup and was about to say that she should go to bed when I was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. I turned around and saw Andy standing awkwardly in the doorway.

I groaned to myself. Andy and all his questions were the last thing I wanted to deal with right then. I stood up and took a few steps towards him, "What happened here? How did the burglar get in," I asked. I wanted to get that out of the way before we moved to the probably never ending interrogation.

"He or she probably had a key. We didn't find any traces of anyone breaking in. Does anyone else except you and your grandmother have a key to the house?"

The killer has a key to my house? If I wasn't already scared by the whole situation, I was definitely freaked out of my mind right then!

"Other than Jason, no," my voice was a little shaky and I took a deep breath to calm down.

"Have you or the other family members misplaced your keys in the last couple of weeks?"

I looked over at Gran and she shook her head, "No, never. I can't speak for Jason though. You would have to ask him yourself."

My shields had slipped a little while before and what I heard in his head at that moment was disgusting. He was disappointed because Jason had an alibi for that night. Thank god, I thought. But he was still firmly convinced that my brother was the guilty party.

What they found in the kitchen was probably someone who thought it would be funny to scare us as they had. I could barely stop myself from slapping him.

Andy gave the room - and the people in it - a once over, "Ms. Stackhouse, I need to ask you some more questions," he said while eying Eric suspiciously.

"Then ask away," I said. I was already irritated and having him there just made the situation worse as far as I was concerned.

He shifted from one foot to the other while looking at me haughtily. "Privately."

"No, this is as private as you'll get." I'd had enough of the bull shit.

He sucked air into his lungs sharply while getting red with anger, "Ms. Stackhouse, I think this is more important than a little family t…," he started but I interrupted him mid-sentence.

"Detective Bellefleur, this is our home. You will respect us and not order us around. My gran and I are both very tired and I would like to get her into bed as fast as possible. So ask your questions now," I said forcefully. Gran didn't admonish me so she apparently agreed with me which was a small miracle in itself.

His lips turned into a thin line but he said nothing against it, "When did you leave the house?"

"About half an hour after sunset, so around 8:30 pm."

"And where have you been the last two and a half hours?" He looked down at his notepad the whole time like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I was in Shreveport," I answered.

"Doing what exactly?" He eyed Eric in a way that said he had a good idea of what, or rather who, I was doing.

"Your job," I said dryly and crossed my arms over my chest while answering.

"Ms. Stackhouse, I told you…"

"I know what you said. But did you even do anything? Did you make the one phone call I suggested?" I got a quick glimpse of his thoughts and what I saw made me snort to myself. I should have known. "No, you didn't. You went to Merlotte's while still being on duty, am I right?" The sudden paleness around his nose said everything.

Then his mind became a jumbled mess: his thoughts were turning over rapidly. What the hell was that? There were people gathering around him and he seemed to be the center of attention while he was telling some tale. I couldn't catch what he was talking about because he seemed to focus on me again at the wrong moment. Damn, I needed to get to the bottom of that. His memories seemed very suspicious.

I brushed it aside and focused on the here and now. "And while you were doing all that, the killer followed me to Shreveport."

There, swallow that!

Andy's eyebrows rose in surprise and skepticism, "So you say." He scribbled something on his pad, "So, how do you know that the … killer followed you?"

The way he said it made my eyes narrow in anger. I knew he was mocking me but I didn't let it get to me, I knew what I saw. "Because I'm not blind, Detective." The sarcasm I put into that one word should have been enough for him to get a clue. Unfortunately Andy Bellefleur is dimmer even than Jason on his worst day!

"He followed me from where I turned onto the main street, onto the highway and all the way to Fangtasia. He always kept the same distance between us and went the same speed I did. When I parked at Fangtasia I saw a dark pick-up truck driving by slowly. I ran to the street to try and get a glimpse of him but he sped up too quickly and turned off into a side street."

"Fangtasia? You went to that vampire bar?" He asked incredulously and with a hint of disgust.

Oh, I would be very careful with your remarks, buddy. And of course Fangtasia was the only thing he heard or understood in what I had just said. "Are you even hearing what I'm saying, Detective? What I do in my free time and where I go is none of your business."

His nostrils were flaring in anger, "So, about your killer: What did he look like? What was he wearing?"

My killer? "I don't know."

"You don't know. Uh huh. Did you even see him?"

"No. I only saw a dark pick-up truck similar to Jason's but minus the flames on the sides."

"Are you sure it wasn't Jason's truck?"

"Positive. I could see the complete broadside of the truck: There were no pink and aqua flames anywhere. And I don't think Jason scraped them off just to follow me."

"So you didn't see anything other than a suspiciously slow moving vehicle."

"I know what I saw, Detective, and if you were doing your job accordingly we would already know who it is!"

Not surprisingly he ignored my jab, much to my disgust, "You said you went to Fangtasia. What were you doing there?"

"Not that it's any of your business but as I said, I was doing your job: I asked for help."

Again he ignored me. What the hell? "Can someone verify that you were there?"

I was about to answer when Eric's voice came from behind me, "Yes, I can and at least my two business partners and the bouncer at the door saw her as well."

"And you are?" Andy asked while looking him over from head to toe. He then looked back up in a haughty kind of way.

Eric took a step forward so he was standing next to me, "Eric Northman. I'm the owner of Fangtasia." He smiled, showing a hint of fang, as he took out his wallet and handed Andy a business card.

Andy swallowed hard and paled even more than before as he took the card. "So you're a…"

"Vampire. Correct," he said and studied Andy very closely, much like a scientist would examine an exceptionally beautiful specimen under the microscope.

Andy must have interpreted the look the same way because his notepad started shaking ever so slightly.

I had to bite my lip to stop the smile that wanted to form.

"Can…," he had to clear his throat, "can you tell me what relations you have with Ms. Stackhouse?"

Eric cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, "I don't think Ms. Stackhouse's relations with me or anybody else is relevant for the purposes of this investigation but if you really must know: like Ms. Stackhouse said, she came to me to ask for help. I granted it of course as anything vampire related is my business."

"What? You're the vampire police or something," Andy asked, chuckling nervously.

Oh, if you only knew!

I put my hand over my mouth to keep the smirk on my lips from showing as Eric said, "I'm the vampire sheriff of the northern part of Louisiana, including Bon Temps; so yes, it is my business." My eyes widened and I looked up at him in surprise. I thought the vampire hierarchy was a well-kept secret? And why would he tell Andy of all people? "And to get ahead of your questions; she came to me tonight to let me know that she had found something of great importance which was related to the murders happening in this town.

"She told me that someone by the name of Drew Marshall has likely killed the same way as your Bon Temps killer and she suspects that he has moved here. I found that quite interesting because she seemed to be the only one to connect the dots."

"And you believe her," Andy said incredulously. She's crazy, I heard him thinking.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Of course. She's very observant and good at thinking outside the box. She seems much more fitting to be an investigator than somebody else we know."

Ha, take that! I had to fight a grin at Eric's little jab at Mr. I'm-better-than-you.

Eric gave him a fierce stare before he wrapped his right arm loosely around my shoulders.

Andy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets and he was starting to sweat.

It was quite comical and I almost laughed out loud.

Eric's nostrils flared and he made a humming noise, "A little advice Detective Bellefleur: never show fear in front of a vampire. You could be mistaken as dinner!" He smiled a toothy – and sharp – smile.

Andy gasped, took a step back and started to move his hand to his throat but then thought better of it and loosened his tie instead.

Eric continued when it became clear that Andy wasn't going to say anything else, "I think that's enough for the night. As you can see Mrs. Stackhouse doesn't feel well. She's not fit to have so many people in the house at the moment. You will resolve this case to the best of your abilities and as quickly as possible. We don't want anything to happen to the Stackhouse Ladies; am I correct, Detective?"

Andy fumbled with his tie again and tried to clear his throat, quite unsuccessfully. He was sweating bullets by now. "Of course, Mr. ah … Northman. We're finished here anyway. We will leave you and the Stackhouse women to your nights. If I have more questions I know where to contact all of you. Good night," he said with a slightly too high voice. He considered, just for a second, sticking his hand out to shake Eric's but thought better of it.

Smart man!

Instead he practically ran out of the house.

After the police finally left we discovered that Gran had dozed off on the couch. That's probably why she didn't say anything about me 'not respecting my elders'.

Eric offered to carry her to bed and I let him. I wouldn't be able to carry her and knew that unless I left her on the couch I would only have to wake her up to get her to her room.

He even offered to help clean the kitchen – much to my surprise – but he had barely spoken those words when he got a phone call.

I was just filling a bucket with water when he ended his conversation, "I need to go. There's an emergency at the bar that I need to tend to."

"Of course, thank you so much for your help tonight. It was quite amusing to see Andy squirm," I said and walked him to the front porch; we stopped there.

"It was my pleasure. And if you should want me to make you squirm anytime soon, all you need to do is tell me," he said and leered at me.

I rolled my eyes instead of saying anything. Of course he wouldn't be Eric if he didn't twist the words around on me. And much to my chagrin Cookie was waking up again; she had been sleeping peacefully the last couple of hours.

Trying to douse her interest, I tried to distract myself by taking in my surroundings and – surprise, surprise – look what I found: a vampire void in the woods. Of course it was Bill lurking in the tree line.

Eric seemed to have sensed him as well because he was looking at exactly where my creepy neighbor was standing. "I will have a vampire standing guard in the woods the rest of the night and for the next couple of nights. I advise that you and your grandmother shouldn't be alone during the day until I have someone for that as well but that will take at least a day. You should be very careful tomorrow."

I nodded, thankful for his protection. "Thanks, I will. I'll be at work until early evening and then I'll be at the DGD meeting afterwards. Will you be there?" After Gran had mentioned it earlier I had told him about the meeting and what Bill would talk about the next night.

"I can't promise but I will try. Good night, Sookie," he said and took my hand to give it a kiss.

Charmer!

"Good night, Eric," I replied and watched him walk to his car. That reminded me, "How will you get my car back to me when I still have the keys," I asked while jingling said keys in my hand and smiled oh-so-sweetly.

He turned to me with a smirk, "That's what towing services are for," and off he went.

Ah, of course, I thought and rolled my eyes again – but this time at myself.

He wasn't even halfway up the driveway when a dark truck – with aqua and pink flames - made its way in the opposite direction.

Urgh, Jason was not what I needed right then!

"Who the hell was that and how can he drive such a fine ride," he asked after dropping out of the truck.

I rolled my eyes. That was Jason: a car was more important to him than his own family. I ignored the comment.

"Hello to you too, Jason. It's good to see that you finally decided to grace us with your presence after almost two hours."

"Yeah, well I came as fast as I could," he said, sounding offended.

Yeah, I bet!

"So who was that? Why was he here at Gran's, especially at this time of night?"

It's good to see that you have your priorities straight, Jason!

"That was Eric. He's from Shreveport and I was with him when Gran called me." I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what would be coming next, "He's a vampire."

As I expected he started ranting loudly, "A fanger, Sookie? Are you out of your fucking mind? Hanging with deaders? Are you a fangbanger now like all the others?"

Oh, he did not just say that! I got right in his face and exploded, "Keep your fucking voice down!" I hissed.

"Gran's fine by the way, thanks for asking. She suffered quite a shock earlier and she needs all the rest she can get right now," If sarcasm were a physical object I would have hit him over the head with it, it was so thick, just like his head.

"As far as Eric is concerned: I'm not a fangbanger! How can you even say that to me? I'm still a fucking virgin! He's helping me clear your whorish ass because apparently you can't stop chasing every damn skirt like a dog in fucking heat! I'm doing this for you, you asshole! That's why he was here. He wants to find the real killer as much we do," I shouted like a howling dervish and stabbed his chest with a finger, probably leaving a bruise.

I was panting hard when I finally stopped and was on the verge of beating the shit out of him. It would serve him right but I would have probably killed any remaining brain cells he may have possessed.

He tried to open his mouth but I cut him off, too pissed off to let him speak so I hissed, "Not. One. Word!"

Instead I grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt and dragged him inside to the kitchen where I dropped a second bucket full of water in front of him and placed a sponge in his hand and ordered him to help me clean the kitchen.

When he tried to protest I shut him up with a single, dangerous look, "You will help me or I will call you out in front of Gran! She will tan your hide!"

He tried a few more times to get out of it but every time he opened his mouth I shot daggers at him. That nipped his protests right in the bud.

Maybe for the first time in his life he was scared of his own sister and the wrath she would put on him.

Oh Jason, you have no idea!

We worked quietly next to each other and I tried not to think too closely about what I was cleaning; I probably wouldn't have been able to continue.

Hours later I finally shut the door behind my brother. I was so tired I could barely stand up. My bed was calling me and I wanted nothing more than to fall into oblivion but before I could make it even three steps from the door there was a knock.

Bill!

I. Could. Not. Believe. It!

Could I not have just one night without him pestering me? Apparently not.

For a moment I contemplated not answering but I knew he wouldn't stop knocking. It made me so angry that I forcefully threw open the door and pinned him with the deadliest stare I could muster at that time of night.

"What," I spat in his direction.

"Sookeh," his voice made my skin crawl. He managed to sound patronizing and whiny at the same time. "I heard what happened," Yeah, I bet. "Are you alright? I wanted to help you earlier, to clean up the cat blood, but your brother arrived before I could offer my services." He took a step forward but an invisible barrier stopped him from entering.

Just why would Jason's arrival prevent him from offering his services?

Giving me a disgustingly sly smile, he said, "Why don't you let me in so I can do that now? Let me help you, Sookeh." Something tickled my brain. It felt like an army of hairy spiders were crawling all over it.

Was he trying to glamour his way in?

Oh, that little shit!

I brushed it aside like I would swat away a fly. Not gonna happen Billy boy. You'll never get into my house again. A shiver went through my body at what he implied. I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders to stay strong, "Bill! Firstly, never ever try to glamour me again. Haven't you learned anything? And secondly, do you have any idea what time it is? It's 3 o'clock in the fucking morning. Normal human beings are asleep at this time of night. If you have woken my gran, so help me…"

"Sookeh, you are a lady. You should not utter such foul words!"

Oh, he didn't!

The little thread of patience I still had went up in smoke.

"Bill Compton, if you interrupt me, lecture me or ignore what I say one more time, I swear to god, I will stake you in your sleep," Hmm, now that put an idea in my head.

Speaking of stakes, my hand grabbed the drawer of the small table next to the door. I had stashed a few stakes in there I had bought from Wal-Mart earlier in the day, thinking of the conversation we'd had the night before, and got one out. Better be safe than sorry, right? "Don't think I'm not capable of it." I waved the stake between us so Bill had a clear view of it.

"But Sookie, you are acting foolish. The killer was in your house and he has a key. You should stay with me until this is over."

The way he said that bugged the hell out of me. "How do you know that he has a key?" Saying this triggered a thought that hadn't come to me earlier when Andy questioned me about it. Gran had a catch-all drawer in the kitchen and there was an extra key stowed in it. I needed to see if it was still in there.

Bill hesitated a moment too long to answer me and I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously as he answered my question, "There are no broken doors or windows so it is only logical that he has a key, of course."

Uh huh, of course!

Does he know who did this? Did he see who followed me to Shreveport? I couldn't even fathom the questions flooding my brain. I was too tired for it and on overload anyway.

"Sookeh," he said impatiently, "why haven't you accepted my offer? It's not very ladylike to be so stubborn. It will get you killed. You need to be protected. Come with me! I have a room ready for you."

His old-school behavior amused me greatly: You're the woman, I'm the man! I wanted to laugh at his face.

A picture popped into my head at that: Primeval forest, a man in a loincloth with wild, dark hair and sideburns yelling, "Me Tarzan! You mine, Sookeh," as he drags me away by the hair.

I shook my head. No, that doesn't seem right. There was something fundamentally wrong with that picture. Even Cookie gave me the cold shoulder and turned her back on me while huffing.

Try again, she growled.

Alright: Primeval forest, a man in a loincloth with wild, long blond hair yelling, "Me Tarzan! You Sookie," as he lifts me up in his strong arms and swings us from liana to liana.

Yes, that was much better. Cookie was purring happily, "Here, kitty, kitty!" She agreed wholeheartedly.

Anyway, what was it with him always saying I should stay at his house? I would never do that; for one, I would never leave my gran alone and I told him that already; and the other reason was, I would never want be alone with him, let alone in his house where he could do whatever he wanted with me. No thank you.

Apparently he hadn't gotten the message the night before so I needed to be a little more direct, "I have ignored your very gracious offer because I used something out of your very own book: I let your words go in one ear and out the other. Furthermore, let's make this clear once and for all: I will not stay with you, I am not yours, I don't want to be yours and I don't want anything from you. You and I are nothing, will be nothing and never have been anything. Okay? Do you understand that?"

Bill narrowed his eyes and sneered at me, "Is it Eric?"

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Of course, he couldn't have me so Eric must be the reason. That it could be his own fault would never cross his mind. "Good night, Bill," I said and shut the door in his face.

"You will regret this. Mark my words," I heard him say through the door. A shiver of foreboding went through my body but I was too exhausted to analyze it. I needed sleep, badly.

Before I could fall into the arms of sleep though there was one little task I still needed to do. Stepping into the kitchen I made a beeline to that special drawer and ripped it open. Rummaging through it for a moment, a bad, bad feeling settled in my bones.

I shuddered.

The key was gone.

How did that happen? The key was only for emergencies and neither Gran nor Jason – I had asked him earlier – mislaid theirs.

There was only one reason I could think of to explain why the key was gone: The murderer had it!

But how?

How had he gotten in? No lock on the doors or the windows had been broken before that night. Did we leave a window open one night and the killer used it as an excuse just to steal the extra key? But why? And how did he know where to look? Nobody other than my brother and grandmother knew about it.

And more importantly, how did Bill know about it? I didn't buy his explanation one little bit.

Or had it been him?