Definitely Dead

I wrapped the boxed casserole dish in some silvery paper and stuck a big white bow on it. I wrote the date and time of the shower on my calendar, and I put the invitation on top of the present. I was on top of the shower situation.
    Riding high on a crest of virtue, I wiped down the inside and outside of my new refrigerator after I’d eaten lunch. I washed a load of clothes in my new washer, wishing for the hundredth time that my cabinets were in place since I was tired of looking for things in the clutter on the floor.
    I walked through the house to make sure it looked nice, since Quinn was picking me up. Not even letting myself think, I changed my sheets and cleaned my bathroom—not that I had any intention of falling into bed with Quinn, but it’s better to be prepared than not, right? Besides, it just made me feel good, knowing that everything was clean and nice. Fresh towels in both bathrooms, a light dusting around the living room and bedroom, a quick circuit with the vacuum. Before I got in the shower, I even swept the porches, though I knew they would be covered again in a yellow haze before I got back from my date.
    I let the sun dry my hair, probably getting it full of pollen, too. I put on my makeup carefully; I didn’t wear a lot, but it was fun to apply it for something more interesting than work. A little eye shadow, a lot of mascara, some powder and lipstick. Then I put on my new date underwear. It made me feel special from the skin on out: midnight blue lace. I looked in the full-length mirror to check out the effect. I gave myself a thumbs-up. You have to cheer for yourself, right?
    The outfit I’d bought from Tara’s Togs was royal blue and made out of some heavy knit that hung beautifully. I zipped up the pants and put on the top. It was sleeveless and it wrapped across my breasts and tied. I experimented with the depth of cleavage, at last picking a degree of revelation I was sure toed the line between sexy and cheap.
    I got my black wrap out of the closet, the one Alcide had given me to replace one Debbie Pelt had vandalized. I’d need it later in the evening. I slipped into my black sandals. I experimented with jewelry, finally settling on a plain gold chain (it had been my grandmother’s) and plain ball earrings.
    Hah!
    There was a knock on the front door, and I glanced at the clock, a bit surprised that Quinn was fifteen minutes early. I hadn’t heard his truck, either. I opened the door to find not Quinn, but Eric, standing there.
    I am sure he enjoyed my gasp of surprise.
    Never open your door without checking. Never assume you know who’s on the other side. That’s why I’d gotten the peepholes! Stupid me. Eric must have flown, since I couldn’t see a car anywhere.
    “May I come in?” Eric asked politely. He had looked me over. After appreciating the view, he realized it hadn’t been designed with him in mind. He wasn’t happy. “I suppose you’re expecting company?”
    “As a matter of fact I am, and actually, I’d rather you stayed on that side of the doorsill,” I said. I stepped back so he couldn’t reach me.
    “You told Pam that you didn’t want to come to Shreveport,” he said. Oh yes, he was angry. “So here I am, to find out why you don’t answer my call.” Usually, his accent was very slight, but tonight I noticed that it was pronounced.
    “I didn’t have time,” I said. “I’m going out tonight.”
    “So I see,” he said, more quietly. “Who are you going out with?”
    “Is that really any of your business?” I met his eyes, challengingly.
    “Of course it is,” he said.
    I was disconcerted. “And that would be why?” I rallied a little.
    “You should be mine. I have slept with you, I have cared for you, I have . . . assisted you financially.”
    “You paid me money you owed me, for services rendered,” I answered. “You may have slept with me, but not recently, and you’ve shown no signs of wanting to do so again. If you care for me, you’re showing it in a mighty strange way. I never heard that ‘total avoidance aside from orders coming from flunkies’ was a valid way to show caring.” This was a jumbled sentence, okay, but I knew he got it.
    “You’re calling Pam a flunky?” He had a ghost of smile on his lips. Then he got back to being miffed. I could tell because he began dropping his contractions. “I do not have to hang around you to show you. I am sheriff. You . . . you are in my retinue.”
    I knew my mouth was