Dead as a Doornail

think.”
    “It’s not?” I asked in a small voice.
    “No, honey. You lost your back porch and your kitchen and your car, I’m afraid. He splashed some gas in that, too. But most of the house should be okay.”
    The kitchen . . . where the only traces of the death I’d caused could have been found. Now not even the technicians featured on the Discovery Channel could find any blood traces in the scorched room. Without meaning to, I began to laugh. “The kitchen,” I said between giggles. “The kitchen’s all gone?”
    “Yes,” said Catfish uneasily. “I hope you got you some homeowners insurance.”
    “Oh,” I said, trying hard not to giggle any more. “I do. It was hard for me to keep up the payments, but I kept the policy Grandmother had on the house.” Thank God my grandmother had been a great believer in insurance. She’d seen too many people drop policy payments to cut their monthly expenses and then suffer losses they were unable to recoup.
    “Who’s it with? I’ll call right now.” Catfish was so anxious to stop me laughing, he was ready to make clown faces and bark if I asked him to.
    “Greg Aubert,” I said.
    The whole night suddenly rose up and whalloped me one. My house had burned, at least partially. I’d had more than one prowler. I had a vampire in residence for whom daytime cover had to be provided. My car was gone. There was a deadman named Jeff Marriot in my yard, and he’d set fire to my house and car out of sheer prejudice. I was overwhelmed.
    “Jason isn’t at home,” Catfish said from a distance. “I tried him. He’d want her to come over to his house.”
    “She and Charles—that is, Charles and I will take her over to my house,” Bill said. He seemed to be equally far away.
    “I don’t know about that,” Bud Dearborn said doubtfully. “Sookie, is that okay with you?”
    I could barely make my mind shuffle through a few options. I couldn’t call Tara because Mickey was there. Arlene’s trailer was as crowded as it needed to be already.
    “Yes, that would be all right,” I said, and my voice sounded remote and empty, even to my own ears.
    “All right, long’s we know where to reach you.”
    “I called Greg, Sookie, and left a message on his office answering machine. You better call him yourself in the morning,” Catfish said.
    “Fine,” I said.
    And all the firefighters shuffled by, and they all told me how sorry they were. I knew every one of them: friends of my father’s, friends of Jason’s, regulars at the bar, high school acquaintances.
    “You all did the best you could,” I said over and over. “Thanks for saving most of it.”
    And the ambulance came to cart away the arsonist.
    By then, Andy had found a gasoline can in the bushes, and the corpse’s hands reeked of gasoline, Dr. Tonnesen said.
    I could hardly believe that a stranger had decided I should lose my home and my life because of my dating preference. Thinking at that moment of how close I’d come to death, I didn’t feel it was unjust that he’d lost his own life in the process. I admitted to myself that I thought Charles had done a good thing. I might owe my life to Sam’s insistence that the vampire be billeted at my house. If Sam had beenthere at the moment, I would have given him a very enthusiastic thank-you.
    Finally Bill and Charles and I started over to Bill’s house. Catfish had advised me not to go back into my house until the morning, and then only after the insurance agent and the arson investigator had checked it over. Dr. Tonnesen had told me that if I felt wheezy, to come in to her office in the morning. She’d said some other stuff, but I hadn’t quite absorbed it.
    It was dark in the woods, of course, and by then it was maybe five in the morning. After a few paces into the trees, Bill picked me up and carried me. I didn’t protest, because I was so tired I’d been wondering how I was going to manage stumbling through the cemetery.
    He put me down when we reached his house. “Can you make it up the stairs?” he asked.
    “I’ll take you,” offered Charles.
    “No, I can do it,” I said, and started up before they could say anything more. To tell the truth, I was not so sure I could, but slowly I made my way up to the bedroom I’d used when Bill had been my boyfriend. He had a snug light-tight place somewhere on the ground floor of the house, but I’d never asked him exactly where. (I had a pretty good idea it was in the space the builders had