Definitely Dead

prisoners were harmed, and all denied seeing any suspicious activity. Both the youths had extensive juvenile records. “They had had many encounters with the police,” a source close to the investigation said.
    “We’re going to look into this thoroughly,” said Detective Dan Coughlin, who had responded to the original complaint and was heading the investigation of the incident for which the youths were apprehended. “They were arrested after allegedly attacking a couple in a bizarre manner, and their deaths are equally bizarre.” His partner, Cal Myers, added, “Justice will be done.”
    I found that especially ominous.
    Tossing the paper on the seat beside me, I pulled my sheaf of mail out of the mailbox and added it to the little pile. I’d sort through it after my shift at Merlotte’s.
    I was in a thoughtful mood when I got to the bar. Preoccupied with the fate of the two assailants of the night before, I hardly flinched when I found that I would be working with Sam’s new employee. Tanya was as bright-eyed and efficient as I’d found her previously. Sam was very happy with her; in fact, the second time he told me how pleased he was, I told him a little sharply that I’d already heard about it.
    I was glad to see Bill come in and sit at a table in my section. I wanted an excuse to walk away, before I would have to respond to the question forming in Sam’s head: Why don’t you like Tanya?
    I don’t expect to like everyone I meet, any more than I expect everyone to like me. But I usually have a basis for disliking an individual, and it’s more than an unspecified distrust and vague distaste. Though Tanya was some kind of shape-shifter, I should have been able to read her and learn enough to either confirm or disprove my instinctive suspicion. But I couldn’t read Tanya. I’d get a word here and there, like a radio station that’s fading out. You’d think I’d be glad to find someone my own age and sex who could perhaps become a friend. Instead, I was disturbed when I realized she was a closed book. Oddly, Sam hadn’t said a word about her essential nature. He hadn’t said, “Oh, she’s a weremole,” or “She’s a true shifter, like me,” or anything like that.
    I was in a troubled mood when I strode over to take Bill’s order. My bad mood compounded when I saw Selah Pumphrey standing in the doorway scanning the crowd, probably trying to locate Bill. I said a few bad words to myself, turned on my heel, and walked away. Very unprofessional.
    Selah was staring at me when I glanced at their table after a while. Arlene had gone over to take their order. I simply listened to Selah; I was in a rude mood. She was wondering why Bill always wanted to meet her here, when the natives were obviously hostile. She couldn’t believe that a discerning and sophisticated man like Bill could ever have dated a barmaid. And the way she’d heard it, I hadn’t even gone to college, and furthermore, my grandmother had gotten murdered.
    That made me sleazy, I guess.
    I try to take things like this with a grain of salt. After all, I could have shielded myself pretty effectively from these thoughts. People who eavesdrop seldom hear good about themselves, right? An old adage, and a true one. I told myself (about six times in row) that I had no business listening to her, that it would be too drastic a reaction to go slap her upside the head or snatch her baldheaded. But the anger swelled in me, and I couldn’t seem to get it under control. I put three beers down on the table in front of Catfish, Dago, and Hoyt with unnecessary force. They looked up at me simultaneously in astonishment.
    “We do something wrong, Sook?” Catfish said. “Or is it just your time of the month?”
    “You didn’t do anything,” I said. And it wasn’t my time of the month—oh. Yes, it was. I’d had the warning with the ache in my back, the heaviness in my stomach, and my swollen fingers. My little friend had come to visit, and I felt the sensation even as I realized what was contributing to my general irritation.
    I glanced over at Bill and caught him staring at me, his nostrils flaring. He could smell the blood. A wave of acute embarrassment rolled over me, turning my face red. For a second, I glimpsed naked hunger on his face, and then he wiped his features clean of all expression.
    If he wasn’t weeping with unrequited love on my doorstep, at least he was suffering a little. A tiny pleased smile was on my lips when I