Dead Ever After: A True Blood Novel

bones, but exposing them with her knife if the occasion arose. Diantha didn’t like predators. “What brings you to Bon Temps?” I asked. I put my hand on his arm. This man is my friend , I said silently, and Mr. Cataliades nodded slightly but didn’t look away.
    “I came to help,” Quinn said. “Sam put it on the board that someone had it in for you. You’re a friend to the Shreveport wolf pack, you’re a friend of Sam’s, and you’re a friend of mine. Plus, the scarf used to kill the lady was a Were gift to you.”
    Sam had definitely put a good spin on the scarf’s history. The Weres had “gifted” it to me by using it as a blindfold so I wouldn’t know where they’d taken me . . . the night I’d first met a werewolf. That night seemed so long ago! I had a fleeting second of incredulity that there’d ever been a time I hadn’t known the extent of the supernatural world. And here I sat in Lucky Bar-B-Q with two witches, two part-demons, a telepath, and a weretiger.
    “Sam has always been a good friend to me,” I said, wondering again what the hell was going on with my good friend. (He’d put forth all this effort on my behalf, trying to drum up help for me in my time of need, but he could barely manage to look me in the face. Something was definitely rotten in the state of Bon Temps.) “That two-natured board must be hopping with news.”
    Quinn nodded. “Alcide had posted, too, so I stopped in at his office on my way here. He wants to know if one of his pack can scent in your house. I told him I was capable of any tracking that needed to be done, but he insisted the Weres help you out. You assume that the scarf was stolen from your house?”
    Everyone at the table was listening intently, even Mr. C and Diantha. They’d finally accepted Quinn as a friend of mine. “Yes, that’s what I believe. Sam remembers me wearing it to church, and that must have been to a funeral months ago. And I’m pretty confident I saw it when I cleaned out my scarf drawer last week. I think maybe I would have noticed if it hadn’t been there.”
    Amelia said, “I can help there. I know a spell that might help you remember, especially if we have a picture of the scarf.”
    “I don’t think I’ve got one, but I can draw a picture,” I said. “It’s got a feather pattern.” The first couple of times I’d worn it, I hadn’t realized that the subtle sweeps of color represented feathers. With the bright peacock colors, you’d think I’d have noticed earlier, but hell, it was just a scarf. A free scarf. And now it might cost me my life or my freedom.
    “That might work,” Amelia said.
    “Then I’m willing to try it,” I told Amelia. I turned to Quinn. “And the Weres can come sniff my house anytime they like. I keep it pretty clean, so I’m not sure what they’ll pick up.”
    “I’m going to search your woods,” Quinn said. He wasn’t asking.
    “It’s awful hot, Quinn,” I said. “And snakes . . .” But my voice died away when I met his eyes. Quinn wasn’t afraid of heat or snakes or much of anything.
    We had a good time eating together, and Quinn ordered a sandwich because our food smelled so good. I couldn’t even begin to tell everyone how grateful I was that they’d come, that they were helping me. When I’d thought three days before that I had only Jason on my side, how wrong I’d been. I was immensely, deeply grateful.
    After lunch, we went by Wal-Mart to get some groceries for supper. To my relief, Mr. Cataliades and Diantha went to fill up their van at the gas station while the rest of us shopped. I simply couldn’t imagine those two in Wal-Mart. I divided the list and handed it out, so we were done in no time.
    As we filled up our cart, Quinn, a supernatural event planner, was telling me about a werewolf coming-of-age party that had turned into a free-for-all. I was laughing when we turned a corner and met Sam.
    After his weirdness yesterday at the bar and on the phone today, I hardly knew what to say to Sam, but I was glad to see him. Sam looked pretty grim, and he looked even grimmer when I reintroduced him to Quinn.
    “Yeah, man, I remember you,” Sam said, trying to smile. “You come to give Sookie moral support?”
    “Any kind of support she needs,” Quinn said, not the happiest choice of words.
    “Sam, I’ve talked about Mr. Cataliades, I know. He’s brought Diantha and Barry and Amelia and Bob,” I said hastily. “You remember Amelia and Bob, though maybe