Deadlocked: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel

bathroom. By myself. For at least ten minutes.
    I’d assumed that Pam had remained outside the bathroom door; I’d assumed Eric had gone into the living room to tell Felipe and his crowd that it was time to get down to business. He would have suggested that the human guests go into the other bedroom while we had our discussion.
    That’s what I’d assumed.
    But I had no way to know for sure.

Chapter 4
    Down at the police station, we covered the same conversational ground, but this time on an individual basis. It was both boring and tense. When I’m dealing with the police, I’m always thinking what I could be guilty of. I always imagine there are laws I don’t know about, laws that I’ve broken. And of course, I’ve broken a few major laws that haunt me, some more than others.
    After the individual interviews, conducted by several policemen, we were deposited back in our little groups and stowed separately around the big room. The Nevada vampires were finishing up talking to a detective several yards away, while I could see Cherie in a glass-walled cubicle with yet another interviewer. T-Rex and Viveca waited for her on a bench against the wall.
    I was more than ready to leave this building. This late at night,even on a Saturday, the traffic on Texas Boulevard would be light. If I had my car, I could be home in an hour, maybe less. Unfortunately, the police had suggested we all pile into Felipe’s Suburban for the trip to the station. Since my car had been parked at the curb, it was temporarily part of the crime scene.
    Simply for want of something else to do while she waited to hear from the crime-scene people, Cara Ambroselli was walking us through the evening one more time.
    “Yes,” an obviously bored Eric was saying. “My friend Bill Compton came in from Bon Temps. Since the other vampires who work for me were busy at the club, I asked Bill to help out at my house because I was having company, though I confess I wasn’t expecting quite so much of it. Bill was … tasked … with patrolling the front grounds. Though I live in a gated community, from time to time curiosity seekers try to make my acquaintance, especially during a party. So Bill was doing a circuit of the front yard and the area around it, every few minutes. Right, Bill?”
    Bill nodded agreeably. He and Eric were such buddies. “That’s what I did,” he said. “I surprised one old man who came down to the end of his driveway to get his newspaper, and I saw one woman out walking her dog. I talked to Sookie when she arrived.”
    It was my turn to do the smiling and nodding. We were all friends, here! And if I’d followed Bill’s advice, I thought, I would never have seen Eric sucking on Kym Rowe’s neck, and I would never have seen her dead body, and I would be sound asleep in bed . I looked at Bill thoughtfully. He raised his brows at me— What? I shook my head, a tiny motion.
    “And you had asked this missing man, Mustapha, to help Mr. Compton keep intruders away. Though his employment is as your daytime man.” Detective Ambroselli was talking to Eric.
    “I think we’ve already covered that.”
    “Where do you think Mr. Khan is?”
    “Last time I saw him, he was in the kitchen,” I said, figuring it was my turn. “As I told you, we spoke when I came inside.”
    “What was he doing?”
    “Nothing in particular. We didn’t talk long. I was …” I was in a hurry to see Eric, but he was busy with the dead woman. “I was anxious to apologize to our guests for being a bit late,” I said. Mustapha had made me late on purpose—but what that purpose had been, I couldn’t fathom.
    “And you came upon Mr. Northman in your bedroom, or at least the bedroom you customarily use, taking blood from another woman.”
    There was really nothing to say to that.
    “Didn’t that make you really angry, Ms. Stackhouse?”
    “No,” I said. “I get anemic if he drinks from me too often.” At least that part was the truth.
    “So you’re not mad, even though he could get the same nourishment from a bottle?”
    She just wasn’t going to stop. That was what you wanted in a cop, unless you had stuff to hide.
    “I wasn’t happy,” I said simply. “But I accepted it, like death and taxes. Comes with the territory when you’re dating a vampire.” I shrugged, trying to imitate nonchalance.
    “You were unhappy, and now she’s dead,” Ambroselli said. She looked down at her notepad for dramatic effect. She thought we were all a