Dead in the Family

includes seeing other guys naked . . . in my bathroom,” I tacked on hastily, thinking of twoeys of all sorts. “If you can’t respect that, you need to leave, and you’ll just have to cry all the way home. Number two. I’m having company tonight, a little kid I’m babysitting, and you better act appropriate around him. You picking up what I’m laying down?”
    “No nudity, be nice to the human kid.”
    “Right.”
    “Is the child yours?”
    “If he were mine, I’d be raising him, you can bet your money. He’s Hadley’s. She was my cousin, the daughter of my aunt Linda. She was the, ah, the girlfriend of Sophie-Anne. You know, the former queen? And she became a vampire, eventually. This little boy, Hunter, is the son Hadley had before all that happened to her. His dad’s bringing him by.” Was Claude related to Hadley? Yes, of course, and therefore to Hunter. I pointed that out.
    “I like children,” Claude told me. “I’ll behave. And I’m sorry to have upset you.” He gave a stab at sounding contrite.
    “Funny, you don’t look sorry. At all.”
    “I’m crying inside,” he said, smiling a wicked smile.
    “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” I said, turning away to complete my bathroom routine alone and unobserved.
    I’d calmed down by the time I got to work. After all, I thought, Claude has probably seen a gazillion people naked in his time . Most supes didn’t think nudity was any big deal. The fact that Claude and I were distantly related—my great-grandfather was his grandfather—wouldn’t make any difference to him; in fact, it wouldn’t make any difference to most of the supes. So, I told myself stoutly, no big deal . When I hit a slow time at work, I called Eric’s cell and left a message to tell him I was expecting to babysit a child that night. “If you can come over, great, but I wanted you to know ahead of time that someone else will be here,” I told the voice mail. Hunter would make a pretty effective chaperone. Then I thought about my new upstairs roomer. “Plus, I kind of forgot to tell you something the other night, and probably you aren’t going to like it much. Also, I miss you.” There was a beep. My message time was up. Well . . . good. There was no telling what I would’ve said next.
    The tracker, Heidi, was supposed to arrive in Bon Temps tonight. It seemed like a year since Eric had decided to send her over to check my land. I felt a little concerned when I thought of her arrival. Would Remy think Hunter attending the funeral was so bad, if he knew who else was dropping by my house? Was I being irresponsible? Was I putting the child at risk?
    No, it was paranoid to think so. Heidi was coming to scout around in my woods.
    I had thrown off my niggling worry by the time I was preparing to leave Merlotte’s. Kennedy had arrived to work for Sam again because he’d made plans to take the Were girl, Jannalynn, to the casinos in Shreveport and out to dinner. I hoped she was real good to Sam, because he deserved it.
    Kennedy was contorting herself in front of the mirror behind the bar, trying to discern a weight loss. I looked down at my own thighs. Jannalynn was really, really slim. In fact, I’d call her skinny. God had been generous with me in the bosom department, but Jannalynn was the possessor of little apricotlike boobs she showed off by wearing bustiers and tank tops with no bra. She gave herself some attitude (and altitude) by wearing fantastic footwear. I was wearing Keds. I sighed.
    “Have a nice night!” Kennedy told me brightly, and I straightened my shoulders, smiled, and wiggled my fingers good-bye. Most people thought Kennedy’s big smile and good manners had to be put on. But I knew Kennedy was sincere. She’d been trained by her pageant-queen mom to keep a smile on her face and a good word on her lips. I had to hand it to her; Danny Prideaux didn’t faze Kennedy at all, and I felt like he’d make most girls pretty nervous. Danny, who’d been brought up to expect the world to beat him down so he better throw the first punch, lifted a finger to me to second Kennedy’s farewell. He had a Coke in front of him, because Danny didn’t drink on duty. He seemed content to play Mario Kart on his Nintendo DS, or to simply sit at the bar and watch Kennedy work.
    On the other hand, lots of men would be nervous about working with Kennedy since she’d served time for manslaughter. Some women would be, too. But I had no problem with her. I was glad Sam