All Together Dead

I’m really, really sorry about that. But even if they knew what had happened, that wouldn’t help Bob, right? And since Katrina, everyone in New Orleans has a lot to worry about.”
    At this interesting point in the discussion, the phone rang. I was closest, so I picked it up. My brother’s voice was almost electric with excitement.
    “Sookie, you need to come out to Hotshot in about an hour.”
    “Why?”
    “Me and Crystal are getting married. Surprise!”
    While this was not a total shock (Jason had been “dating” Crystal Norris for several months), the suddenness of the ceremony made me anxious.
    “Is Crystal pregnant again?” I asked suspiciously. She’d miscarried a baby of Jason’s not long ago.
    “Yes!” Jason said, like that was the best news he could possibly impart. “And this time, we’ll be married when the baby comes.”
    Jason was ignoring reality, as he was increasingly willing to do. The reality was that Crystal had been pregnant at least once before she was pregnant by Jason, and she had lost that child, too. The community at Hotshot was a victim of its own inbreeding.
    “Okay, I’ll be there,” I said. “Can Amelia and Quinn come, too?”
    “Sure,” Jason said. “Crystal and me’ll be proud to have them.”
    “Is there anything I can bring?”
    “No, Calvin and them are getting ready to cook. It’s all going to be outside. We got lights strung up. I think they’ll have a big pot of jambalaya, some dirty rice, and coleslaw, and me and my buddies are bringing the alcohol. Just come looking pretty! See you at Hotshot in an hour. Don’t be late.”
    I hung up and sat there for a minute, my hand still clutching the cordless phone. That was just like Jason: come in an hour to a ceremony planned at the last minute for the worst possible reason, and don’t be late! At least he hadn’t asked me to bring a cake.
    “Sookie, you okay?” Quinn asked.
    “My brother Jason’s getting married tonight,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “We’re invited to the wedding, and we need to be there in an hour.” I’d always figured Jason wouldn’t marry a woman I truly adored; he’d always shown a partiality to tough sluts. And that was Crystal, sure enough. Crystal was also a werepanther, a member of a community that guarded its own secrets jealously. In fact, my brother was now a werepanther himself because he’d been bitten over and over by a rival for Crystal’s attentions.
    Jason was older than I, and God knows, he’d had his share of women. I had to assume he knew when one suited him.
    I emerged from my thoughts to find that Amelia was looking startled and excited. She loved to go out and party, and the chances for that around Bon Temps were limited. Quinn, who’d met Jason when he was visiting me, looked at me with a skeptical raised eyebrow.
    “Yeah, I know,” I said. “It’s crazy and dumb. But Crystal’s pregnant again, and there’s no stopping him. Do you two want to come along with me? You don’t have to. I’m afraid I’ve got to get ready right now.”
    Amelia said, “Oh, goody, I can wear my new outfit,” and sped upstairs to tear the tags off.
    Quinn said, “Babe, do you want me to come?”
    “Yes, please,” I said. He came over to me and wrapped his heavy arms around me. I felt comforted, even though I knew Quinn was thinking what a fool Jason was.
    I pretty much agreed with him.

Chapter 4
    It was still warm at night, but not oppressively  so, not this late in September. I wore a sleeveless white dress with red flowers on it, one I’d worn before when I had a date with Bill (whom I wouldn’t think about). Out of sheer vanity, I put on my high-heeled red sandals, though they were hardly practical footwear for a wedding on a roughly paved road. I put on some makeup while Quinn was showering, and I wasn’t displeased with my reflection. There’s nothing like great sex to give you a glow. I came out of my room and glanced at the clock. We needed to leave pretty quickly.
    Amelia was wearing a short-sleeved dress, beige with a tiny navy pattern. Amelia loved to buy clothes and considered herself a snappy dresser, but her taste was strictly suburban young matron. She wore little navy sandals with flowers on the straps, much more appropriate than my heels.
    Just when I was beginning to worry, Quinn came out of my room wearing a brown silk dress shirt and khakis.
    “What about a tie?” he asked. “I’ve got some in my bag.”
    I thought of