Dead Ever After

understood that she’d visited to make her point, both with Andy and with me. She stood by who she liked, no matter what.
    “I know Andy’s grandmother was a trial,” I said, surprising even myself, “but you’re so much like Miss Caroline in so many ways.”
    Halleigh looked startled and then pleased. “You know, I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.
    We parted better friends than we’d ever been.
    It was twilight when she left, and I began to think of eating supper. I heated part of Michele’s enchilada casserole in a bowl and dumped salsa on top. It was good, and I ate the bowlful.
    The minute it was full dark, Bill was at my back door. I was very tired by then, though I hadn’t done a damn thing all day, and I shuffled slowly to the door toting the rifle with me, though I was sure from the—well, from the feeling of the hole a vampire’s head left in my other sense—that this “hole” represented Bill.
    “It’s Bill,” he called, to confirm his identity. I let him in, undoing the locks with one hand, and stood aside to let him pass. With this much traffic, I was going to need a schedule to keep up with all my callers. Bill stepped in and gave me a sharp once-over. “You’re healing,” he said. “Good.”
    I offered him a drink, but he looked at me and said, “I can get something myself, Sookie, if I need a drink. But I don’t right now. Can I get you something?”
    “Yeah, actually. If you wouldn’t mind pouring me another glass of tea, I’d sure appreciate it.” The pitcher was pretty heavy to deal with one-handed. Gripping anything with my left hand made the shoulder hurt in a most unpleasant way.
    We sat in the living room, me curled up on the couch, Bill in the armchair opposite. He smiled at me.
    “You’re cheerful,” I observed.
    “I’m about to do something that gives me intense pleasure,” he said.
    Huh. “Okay, have at it,” I said.
    “Do you remember what Eric did to me in New Orleans?” he said, and nothing could have surprised me more.
    “You mean, what Eric did to us? By telling me that instead of you being spontaneously smitten with me, you were ordered to seduce me?”
    It had hurt then. It hurt now. Of course, not as badly.
    “Yes, exactly,” Bill said. “And I’m not ever going to explain again, since we’ve said all this out loud and in our heads so many times. Even though I can’t read minds, like you can, I know that.”
    I nodded. “We’ll take all that as done.”
    “That is why it gives me intense pleasure to tell you, now, what Eric has done to Sam.”
    All right ! This was what I had waited to discover. I leaned forward. “Do tell,” I said.

Chapter 18
    When he had finished, he left, and I called Sam at the bar. “I need you to come out to the house,” I said.
    “Sookie?”
    “You know it’s me.”
    “Kennedy’s not here, so I have to stay at the bar.”
    “No, you don’t. You’re not supposed to talk to me or come see me. But I’m telling you I want to talk to you now, and I expect someone to take care of the bar for you while you get yourself out here.” I was very, very angry. And I did something so rude that Gran would have choked. I hung up.
    In thirty minutes I heard Sam’s truck. I was standing at the back porch door when he walked up. I could see the cloud of regret around him as clearly as if it had been a tangible thing.
    “Don’t you tell me how you’re not supposed to be here and you can’t come in,” I said, though it took me a minute to stoke my fire back up after seeing his unhappiness. “We’re going to talk.” Sam hung back, and I reached out to take his hand the way he’d taken mine at the hospital. I pulled him closer, and he tried to stay away, he really did, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything rough. “Now, you come sit in the living room and you talk to me. And before you start making up a story, let me tell you . . . Bill came by and he had a very interesting tale to tell. So I know everything, though not all the details.”
    “I shouldn’t. I promised not to.”
    “You don’t have a choice, Sam. I’m not giving you one.”
    He took a deep breath. “None of us had enough money for your bail. I wasn’t going to have you spend any more time in that place than you had to. I called the bank president at home to ask him about a loan on the bar, but I got turned down.”
    That, I hadn’t known. I was horrified. “Oh, no, Sam . . .”
    “So,” he bulldozed over me, “I