Welcome back in 2015! We're still here! :)

Disclaimer: If I had a penny for every story I don't own...

Betaed by Breathesgirl.

Previously:

I drifted off to sleep lulled by the three pages long musings of the beautiful captive about her lover's eye colour (blue), the cool softness of his (long, blond) hair, the strength of his (broad) shoulders and the delightful weakness that overcame her at the thought of the use he could make of the (plentiful) more hidden qualities of his anatomy.

Eric had known very well what he was doing by giving me that book.

16.

The next day I woke up early; I wanted to have a moment for myself before the detectives' visit. I also had to secure an appropriate outfit for the funeral. Unfortunately, there was nothing both elegant and conservative enough for the occasion in my closet. Had I thought of it I could have asked Pam if she had something I could borrow, but since that option was blocked by the sun, I turned to the person that usually came first to my mind when I was in the middle of a wardrobe crisis: Tara.

She wasn't home that morning, but she told me on the phone where I could find the key and that I should come inside and take whatever I needed from her closet. I was very concerned when I noticed that she was trying to hint there was a vampire resting at her house. I hoped it wasn't Mickey, though it was sadly the most probable option. I didn't like him to begin with and Eric's warning made me even less eager to have anything to do with him. For a moment, I even hesitated whether going to Tara's place was a good idea, but then I scolded myself for being irrational: it was daytime, there was no way Mickey could show up and confront me.

I regretted I didn't have any more time to talk to Tara – I was really worried about her and I wanted to make sure she was okay, but the hurried conversation on the phone didn't reveal much. I thanked her, said goodbye, got into my car and without the delay drove to Tara's. Luckily, I found the right outfit quickly. I spent there only as much time as necessary and headed back home without peeking into the others rooms.

I was just finishing dressing up when the detectives knocked on my door. They looked surprised with the change in my appearance.

"Please, come in," I said and then added an explanation, "I was just getting ready for the funeral."

"I hope you're not saying goodbye to a close friend," Jack Leeds said politely.

"No, more like an acquaintance. Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you."

When we took our places in the living-room I had no more excuses to delay answering questions.

"Let's talk some more about the night Miss Pelt disappeared," started Jack Leeds. "You met her in Shreveport, is that correct?"

Okay. Not the worst opening. It was an easy enough question.

"Yes, she was invited to the same party I was."

Suddenly, I got an idea that could potentially help me take control over the conversation:

"Colonel Flood was there too," I supplied politely. "It's his funeral I'm going to."

The detectives exchanged quick glances.

"He died in a car accident," I added.

"So there were many people there?" …aaaand that would be all about my little attempt at a diversion.

"Yes, quite a few. I didn't know all of them."

I was sure they knew the list of the guests better than I did.

"But you had met Debbie before, hadn't you?"

"Yes," I was on steadier ground again. That was what I needed.

"During the time you had been seeing Alcide Herveaux?"

All right; not exactly what I needed.

"That's right," I confirmed with a straight face, even though I had never dated Alcide.

It was a lie we had conjured to create a cover for our mission in Jackson.

"You stayed overnight in Herveaux's apartment in Jackson once, didn't you?"

"I did," I replied stiffly. The question irritated me.

"You ran into Miss Pelt one night at Josephine's."

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking why they even needed my statement if they already seemed to know everything they were interested in. It would have been a very bad move, so instead I simply confirmed their information. I had to remind myself it were not questions about Jackson I should be really afraid of. As long as we were talking about that period I knew what I was doing.

"Was there any tension between you and Miss Pelt that night?"

"Yes, she was celebrating her engagement to some other man. She walked to our table and made a few nasty remarks."

"You also visited Alcide in his family's office a few weeks ago… you were spotted at the crime scene later that day. Did you arrive there together with Alcide?"

Only the fact that I was a telepath and years of practice in controlling my facial expressions saved me from spectacularly blowing my cover. I had no idea what crime the Leeds were alluding to. I figured they were talking about the time during the Witch War. Unfortunately for me, apparently I had been very busy during that period and I had been up to much more than just romancing with Eric – and I couldn't even place the blame on him since it was clearly about something I had been doing during the daytime.

I wanted to kick myself for not telling Alcide the truth about my memory lapse the night before and not getting the much needed info on all the events I had taken a part in those days in advance. I vowed to myself to fix that mistake when I saw him later that afternoon so that the situation wouldn't repeat itself if I ever had to answer more questions or if the Leeds' asked for another meeting. I should have predicted I would need that knowledge since I had known I was going to talk to the detectives!

Luckily, I was able to see from their minds that I was supposed to say 'yes' since they were just looking for confirmation for the story they had already heard from some other source.

"You told the policemen at the scene that you were engaged."

Ooooh shit, do the lies ever end? I could question many things, but I was absolutely certain that I had not been unknowingly engaged to Alcide… especially not while sleeping with Eric.

What was that about, though? I really should have had a long talk with Alcide!

"I think Alcide might have said something like that," I thought I sounded sufficiently diplomatic.

"But it wasn't true?"

"Well, we did have a few talks about the future," my brain was working on the turbo mode, "and I think Alcide considered it binding, but he never really asked me officially to marry him and didn't give me a ring. I guess he thought it was a natural order of things so he didn't even think he needed to ask."

I rolled my eyes as if I was trying to convey my disapproval of Alcide's hopelessness or maybe my disappointment in male species in general. I didn't care if they were going to think I was an empty-headed doll waiting for a golden ring, if only it would make them buy my story. I knew I was taking a risk and I was nervous, but I was babbling whatever popped into my mind to explain in any way the weird situation I had found myself in. I just had to remember to repeat everything I said to Alcide.

I really hoped I wasn't digging myself even deeper.

"Was Ms. Pelt against your relationship with Alcide?"

"Oh yes, naturally."

"Was she angry at you?"

"I think so," I didn't try to deny that. Since they knew so much, there was no way they hadn't already found out about Debbie's disapproval of my person. "She bad-mouthed me a few times and she burned a hole in my scarf once. I'm sure you are aware that Debbie wasn't one for hiding her animosity."

I was tempted to say that her animosity toward me almost got me killed but I wasn't an idiot: revenge would look like a great motive.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

I pretended to think about my answer. The strangest thing was that it wasn't entirely improbable that I was about to tell them the truth, but I still wouldn't know that:

"Last time I saw her… she was leaving the party, late in the evening."

"Did she leave alone? We heard she was distressed, do you know why?"

"I think I do. You see, Alcide was at the party. He said something upsetting to her," it was a stretch, but I thought I could use that whole 'abjuring' thing somehow.

"Did you hear what it was?"

"Something about him never wanting to see her face again."

"Where do you think she went?"

I shrugged, honestly disinterested.

"I have no idea. Maybe she was planning on going back to Jackson?"

"Didn't she stop by on her way? She would be passing by Bon Temps."

"I don't see why she would do such a thing. We're not friends and I don't know anything about her socialising with anybody in town. If she stopped in Bon Temps, I don't know anything about that."

"Did you see her after that?"

"Like I said, that's the last I heard from her."

"And Mr. Herveaux? Have you seen him since then?"

"I have."

"Are you still engaged?"

I smiled.

"As far as I know we're not."

The conversation fortunately reached its end soon. Lily took a quick look at my house (under the guise of using the restroom) while Jack asked me a few final questions about Debbie's car, but I had nothing to tell him on the topic. Even though he was the one doing most of the talking I had a feeling that it was his companion who was the more dangerous one in the duo.

I reached out with my mind when they were saying their goodbyes to check just how suspicious of me they were. I was relieved to find that most of my answers matched their predictions. Lily thought it interesting that I seemed more uncomfortable with questions about my relationship with Alcide than about Debbie, and that maybe I felt guilty toward him for some reason. Fortunately, she decided it seemed to be a private matter between the two of us and unrelated to the case and she didn't think anything particularly nasty in her guesses. I breathed with relief as I watched them leave my house.

Only a few minutes after they drove away I saw another car parking in my driveway, this time with Alcide behind the wheel. I was glad that his timing was good – if he had arrived sooner and caught the detectives still there, it would have made things more complicated.

This time he was driving a Lincoln, which was a change from his usual truck. I waited for him on the porch and watched him getting out of the car. He was dressed appropriately for the occasion which meant that in the bright light of the sunny day he made quite a pretty picture.

I kept a smile on my face when he made his way toward me. He looked me up and down appreciatively. He seemed rather stunned with my refined look.

"You look amazing," he said.

This time I didn't tense when he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I tossed back cheerfully.

My heart was so light with the relief I felt over the detectives' departure that I wanted to laugh. I'm sure you could see it in my eyes and maybe Alcide thought that my joy was entirely his credit.

I took my bag, locked the door and we got into his car. Despite my good mood I could see that Alcide was tense. For some reason he was stressing over the funeral. He was thinking about someone named Patrick and worrying about his father. I didn't mean to be nosey, so I decided to back off after hearing that and not poke into his mind.

That's why I remained blissfully unaware what was in store for me until he decided to drop the bomb on me.

To be fair, I was the one who started the conversation, but at that point the outcome was probably already inevitable.

"Alcide, I think we should talk," I said with my resolution still fresh in mind.

Even if I was temporarily off the hook with the Leeds, I knew that the problem could repeat itself. I intended to straighten things out with Alcide and tell him about my secret.

I didn't notice – though I should have – that he immediately stiffened.

"Does it have anything to do with what happened during the Witch War?" his voice sounded weird.

I glanced at him and only then noticed that he had such a hard grip on the wheel that his knuckles became white.

"Yes," I said a little surprised. "There is something I need to tell you."

"I know," he said sharply.

I looked at him stunned.

"You do?!" who told him? "How?"

"I detected her scent on your door yesterday when I visited. It was old and faint, so I didn't recognise it at first, but I know it well enough to know that I'm right. It took me a while to place it and put it all together."

"A scent? Whose scent?"

"It's a little late to play dumb, Sookie, don't you think? You know very well what I'm talking about."

"No, Alcide, frankly, I have no idea."

"I know you killed Debbie."

Next time: Eric has some explaining to do.