Dead Reckoning: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel

windshield, hoping I’d see a light on in the kitchen signaling Dermot’s presence.
    But the door to the back porch was hanging open over the steps. I couldn’t see well enough through the gloom to tell if the house door was open, too.
    My first reaction was indignation. That’s so careless of Dermot, I thought. Maybe I should have told him he had to leave, too. But then I thought again. Dermot had never been so careless, and there was no reason to think he would be today. Instead of being irritated, maybe I should be worried.
    Maybe I should listen to that alarm bell clanging away in my head.
    You know what would be smart? Reversing the car and getting the hell out of here. I yanked my gaze away from that ominous open door. Galvanized, I threw the car into reverse and backed up. I put the car in drive and turned the wheel to rocket down the driveway.
    From the woods a sizable young tree crashed down across the gravel, and I slammed on the brakes.
    I knew a trap when I saw one.
    I turned the car off and threw open my door. While I was scrambling out, a figure lurched from the trees and ran toward me. The only weapon to hand was the quart of milk in its plastic jug, and I grabbed the handles of the plastic bag and swung it high. To my amazement, I connected, and the jug burst, and milk went everywhere. Absurdly, I had a flash of fury at the waste, and then I was scrambling for the trees, my feet slipping on the wet grass. Thank God I’d worn sneakers. I ran for my life. He might be down, but he wouldn’t stay down, and maybe there would be more than one. I was sure I’d caught a flicker of movement on the periphery of my vision.
    I didn’t know if the ambushers intended to kill me, but they weren’t going to invite me to play Monopoly.
    I was soaking wet within seconds from the rain and the water I knocked off the bushes as I blundered through the woods. If I lived through this, I swore, I’d start running at the high school track again, because my breath was sawing in and out of my lungs. The summer undergrowth was thick, and the vines snaked everywhere. I didn’t fall, but it was only a matter of time.
    I was trying hard to think—that would be a good thing—but I seemed to be possessed by a rabbit mentality. Run and hide, run and hide. If I was being abducted by Weres, it was all over, because they could track me through the woods in a jiffy even if they were in human form, though the weather might slow them down.
    Couldn’t be vampires, the sun hadn’t set.
    Fairies would have been much more subtle.
    Humans, then. I dashed around the edges of the cemetery, since I’d be so easy to spot on the open ground.
    I heard noise in the woods behind me, and I headed for the only other sanctuary that might offer me a good hiding place. Bill’s house. I didn’t have enough time to climb a tree. It seemed I’d leaped out of my car an hour ago. My purse, my phone! Why hadn’t I grabbed my phone? I could picture my purse sitting on the car seat. Crap.
    Now I was running uphill, so I was close. I paused at the huge old oak, about ten yards from the front porch, and peered around it. There was Bill’s house, dark and silent in the pouring rain. When Judith had been in residence, I’d left my copy of Bill’s key in his mailbox one day. It had only seemed right. But that night he’d left a message on my answering machine telling me where the spare key was. We’d never said a word to each other about that.
    I pelted up onto the porch, found the key taped under the armrest of the wooden outdoor chair, and unlocked the front door. My hands were so tremulous it was amazing I didn’t drop the key and that I got it into the lock correctly the first time. I was about to step in when I thought, Footprints . I’d leave wet footprints everywhere I went in the house. I’d advertise my location like a blue light Kmart special. Crouching down by the railing around the porch, I pulled off my clothes and shoes, and dropped them behind the thick azalea bushes surrounding the house. I squeezed out my ponytail. I shook myself briskly like a dog, to rid myself of as much water as I could. Then I stepped into the quiet dimness of the old Compton house. Though I didn’t have time to mull it over, it felt decidedly weird to be standing in the foyer naked.
    I looked down at my feet. One splash of water. I rubbed my foot over it and took a big step onto the worn runner lying in the hall that led back to the kitchen. I didn’t