Dead and Gone

doing the same thing to me that was done to Crystal.”
    “You got anything I could take to court?” he asked cautiously. Andy had always been a closet believer in my telepathy, though that didn’t mean he was necessarily a fan of mine.
    “No,” I said, “they’re waiting for me to show up.” I crept closer, hoping like hell they weren’t looking out the back windows. There was a box of extra-long nails in the pickup bed, too. I had to close my eyes for second as the horror crawled all over me.
    “I’ve got Weiss and Lattesta with me,” Andy said. “Would you be willing to go in if we were there to back you up?”
    “Sure,” I said, feeling anything but. I simply knew I was going to have to do this. It could be the end of any lingering suspicion of Jason. It could mean recompense or at least retribution for the death of Crystal and the baby. It could put at least a few of the Fellowship fanatics behind bars and maybe serve as a good lesson to the rest. “Where are you?” I asked, shaking with fear.
    “We were already in the car to go to the motel. We can be there in seven minutes,” Andy said.
    “I parked behind the Freer house,” I said. “I gotta go. Someone’s coming out the back of the trailer.”
    Whit Spradlin and his buddy, whose name I couldn’t recall, came down the steps and unloaded the wood beams from the pickup. The pieces were already formed into the correct lengths. Whit turned to the trailer and called something, and Arlene opened the door and came down the back steps, her purse over one shoulder. She walked toward the cab of the pickup.
    Dammit, she was going to get in and drive away, leaving her car parked in front as though she were there! Any lingering tenderness I’d harbored in my heart burned away at that moment. I looked at my watch. Maybe three more minutes until Andy arrived.
    She kissed Whit and waved at the other man, and they went into the trailer to hide so I wouldn’t see them. According to their plan, I’d come to the front, knock on the door, and one of them would fling it open and drag me in.
    Game over.
    Arlene opened the truck door, the keys in her hand.
    She had to stay. She was the weak link. I knew this in every way I could know it—intellectually, emotionally, and with my other sense.
    This was going to be awful. I braced myself.
    “Hi, Arlene,” I said, stepping out of my cover.
    She shrieked and jumped. “Jesus Christ, Sookie, what are you doing in my backyard?” She made an elaborate fuss of collecting herself. Her head was a snarled tangle of anger and fear and guilt. And regret. There was some, I swear.
    “I’ve been waiting to see you,” I said. I had no idea what to do now, but I’d slowed her down a little. I might have to physically tackle her. The men inside hadn’t noticed my abrupt appearance, but that wouldn’t last long unless I got extremely lucky. And I hadn’t had a run of luck, much less extreme luck, lately.
    Arlene was standing still, keys in hand. It was easy to get inside her head and rummage around, reading the awful story in there.
    “What you doing, getting ready to go, Arlene?” I asked, keeping my voice very quiet. “You’re supposed to be inside, waiting for me to get here.”
    She saw everything, and her eyes closed. Guilty, guilty, guilty. She had tried to construct a bubble to keep the men’s intent hidden from herself, to keep it from touching her heart. That hadn’t worked—but it hadn’t stopped her treachery today, either. Arlene stood exposed to herself.
    I said, “You got in too deep.” My own voice sounded detached and level. “No one will understand that or forgive it.” Her eyes went wide with the knowledge that what I was saying was true.
    But I was in for my own kind of shock. I knew, suddenly and surely, that she had not killed Crystal and neither had these men; they’d planned to crucify me in emulation of Crystal’s death because it seemed like such a great idea, such an open statement of their opinion of the shapeshifters’ announcement. I’d been selected as the sacrificial lamb, despite the fact that they knew for sure I wasn’t a shapeshifter; in fact, they thought I wouldn’t put up as much of a fight since I was only a shapeshifter sympathizer, not one of the two-natured. I wouldn’t be as strong, in their opinion. I found this incredible.
    “You’re a poor excuse for a woman,” I said to Arlene. I couldn’t seem to stop, and I couldn’t seem to sound anything but