Dead Ever After: A True Blood Novel

I was so glad to unlock the door and be back in my own home, I almost started crying. And after being jammed into a jail cell with a hungover Jane Bodehouse, it was exquisitely sweet to be alone. I glanced at the telephone answering machine, which was blinking furiously, and I was certain there were some e-mails waiting for me. But a shower came first.
    While I dried my hair with a towel, I looked out the window at the shimmering landscape. Everything looked dusty again, but it would be a couple of days before I needed to water, thanks to the recent rain. I actually looked forward to getting out in the yard, because after jail it looked incredibly beautiful. The extravagant growth and lushness had only increased while I was gone.
    I put on makeup, because I needed to feel attractive. I put a ton of moisturizer on my newly shaved legs and sprayed on a little spritz of perfume. This was more like it. Every second I felt more like myself, Sookie Stackhouse, bar owner and telepath, and less like Sookie the Jailbird.
    I pushed down the Play button on the answering machine.
    Here are the people who didn’t believe I should have been arrested: Maxine; India; JB du Rone’s mom; Pastor Jimmy Fullenwilder; Calvin; Bethany Zanelli, coach of the high school softball team; and at least seven others. I had to feel touched that they’d bothered to call to express their feelings, even though I’d been in jail and it had been possible I’d never get to hear their encouraging messages. I wondered if I should write a thank-you note to each caller. My grandmother would have.
    As I listened to Kennedy Keyes’s voice telling me Sam had said I shouldn’t come in today and I should rest, I could see by the counter that I had only one more message. A man’s voice came on. I didn’t recognize it. He said, “You had no right to take away my last chance. I’m going to make sure you pay for it.” I looked at the number. I didn’t recognize it, either. Was I shocked at the determination in his voice? Yes. But I wasn’t surprised. I know how people really are. I can hear their thoughts. I couldn’t read the brain of someone who’d left a phone message, but I know intent when I hear it. My anonymous caller had meant every word he’d said.
    Now it was my turn to make a phone call. “Andy, I need you to come out here and listen to something,” I said when he picked up his cell. “You may not want to, but if I’m in danger, you gotta protect me, right? I didn’t lose that when I got arrested?”
    “Sookie,” Andy said. He sounded massively tired. “I’m on my way.”
    “And do me a favor, okay? This is weird, and I know you won’t want to do it, but you tell Alcee Beck to clean out his car. I’m pretty sure there’s something in his car that shouldn’t be there.” I’d had so much time to think in jail that I’d remembered a little flash of memory: Alcee’s car parked by the woods. The odd flicker of movement I’d seen from the corner of my eye. The fact that Alcee was so insanely determined I be arrested and charged that I’d thought, It’s almost like he’s under a spell.
    That seemed like such a good fit, I was sure it was true.

Chapter 10
    Though Sam hadn’t wanted me to come in the day I was released from jail, I went in to work the next morning. On one level, it was such a normal thing to do that my preparations felt quite ordinary. On another level, since I’d spent part of my jail time thinking I might never get to walk back into Merlotte’s again, I was nervous about making a public appearance after facing such an ugly allegation.
    Andy Bellefleur had listened to the threat on my answering machine and taken the little tape with him. I’d wished I’d been smart enough to make a copy before he drove off. I hadn’t needed to ask him if he’d conveyed my request to Alcee Beck. I heard from his thoughts that he hadn’t, that he was already in bad with Alcee because Andy’d maintained they shouldn’t arrest me, while Alcee had bulled ahead with the charges. So there was something I’d have to take care of myself.
    After Jason’s account of Sam’s agitation at my arrest, I’d expected a big welcome back to the bar. In fact, I’d expected Sam would call me the night before, but he hadn’t. Now, seeing him behind the bar, I smiled and started over to give him a hug.
    Sam looked at me for a long moment, and I felt the conflict rolling off him. If fireworks had been exploding out of his brain, he