Deadlocked (13 page)

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 bunch of lousy liars. “According to Ms. Dodson, she heard Ms. Ravenscroft threaten the victim.”

Eric turned a dark blue gaze on Cherie Dodson, clearly visible through the glass of the enclosure. At the same moment, her wrestler friend, T-Rex, was looking at Cherie almost as unhappily as Eric. Though I had to stretch a little, I could get the gist of his thoughts. T-Rex knew what his girlfriend was saying to the police. Cherie’s disclosure didn’t accord with T-Rex’s code of ethics. Thad Rexford had a very interesting mind, and I would have liked to wander around in it a little longer, but Eric gripped my hand to give it what he thought was a gentle squeeze. I turned to look up at him with narrowed eyes. He could tell I was distracted, and he didn’t think my mind should be wandering.

“I advised the woman that she should leave town, yes,” Pam said imperturbably. “I don’t think that was threatening her. If I’d wanted to threaten her, I’d have said, ‘I’ll rip your head from its neck.’”

Ambroselli took a deep breath. “Why did you tell her to leave town?”

“She had been insulting and insolent to Sookie, who is my friend, and Eric, who is my boss.”

“What did she say that was so insulting?”

Probably I should answer this one. It would sound haughty coming from Pam. Of course, Pam was haughty. “She was pretty excited that Eric had taken blood from her.” I shrugged. “She seemed to think that made her special. She wasn’t happy Eric told her to leave after I showed up. I guess she’d assumed that Eric’s taking blood from her meant he wanted to have sex with her, and she thought I would, you know, participate in that.” This was hard to say, and it must have been unpleasant to hear, from the face the detective made.

“You didn’t feel that way, too?”

“Honestly, it was the equivalent of being insulted by a pork chop my boyfriend was eating,” I said. And then I was smart enough to shut my mouth.

Eric smiled down at me. I would have given a lot to wipe that smile off his face. I took advantage of Ambroselli being distracted by her cell phone to smile back at Eric. He understood my expression well enough. His mouth straightened out. Over his shoulder, I could see that Bill looked unmistakably pleased.

“So, Ms. Ravenscroft, you told Kym Rowe to go, she left, and she died,” Ambroselli said, by way of resuming the questioning. But she didn’t seem focused on Pam the way she had been, and I could see that she was preparing to move out.

“Yes, that’s right,” Pam said. She’d read Ambroselli’s body language the same way I had, and she was eyeing the detective thoughtfully.

“Please stay where you are. I have to return to Mr. Northman’s place to check something out,” Ambroselli said. She was on her feet, gathering up her shoulder bag. “Givens, make sure everyone stays here until I say they can go.”

And just like that, she left.

Givens, a man with a starved, concave face, looked very unhappy. He called a few more people in—all men, I noticed—and assigned one to each batch of us. “If they need to go to the restroom, send someone with ’em, don’t let ’em go alone,” he instructed the heavy guy in charge of our little group. “She’s the only one who should need to go,” he added, pointing at me.

Bored, I turned my chair around to watch the Nevada vamps for a while. Felipe, Horst, and Angie seemed to have had a lot of experience with the police. They sat together in silence, though a little downturn to one corner of Felipe’s lips told me he was mighty displeased. As a king, he probably hadn’t been treated like an ordinary vampire in a long time—not that humans knew who or what he was, but ordinarily Felipe would have several layers of insulation between him and the regular pitfalls of the vampire world. If I had to pick a word to describe the king of Arkansas, Nevada, and Louisiana, that word would be “miffed.”

He could hardly blame Eric for this turn of events. He might, anyway.

I switched my gaze to the human group in the glass-enclosed office. T-Rex was signing autographs for some of the uniforms. Cherie and Viveca were preening themselves, proud to be in such illustrious company. Under his air of just-a-good-ole-boy, T-Rex was bored. He would have been glad to be somewhere else. When the little cluster of cops dispersed, he pulled out his cell phone and called his manager. I couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but from his thoughts I could read that T-Rex couldn’t think of anyone else to call in the middle of the night. He was tired of conversation with his female companions, especially Cherie, who could not keep her mouth shut.

I spotted a familiar face among the cops going to and fro in the big room. “Hey, Detective Coughlin!” I said, oddly happy to see someone I knew. The middle-aged detective swung himself around, using his belly as a fixed point. His hair was shorter than ever, and a bit grayer.

“Miss Stackhouse,” he said, coming over to us. “You found any more bodies?”

“No, sir,” I said. “But a woman was found dead in the front yard of Eric’s place, and I was in the house.” I jerked my head toward Eric, in case Coughlin didn’t know who he was. Pretty unlikely that a police officer in Shreveport wouldn’t know the city’s most prominent vampire, but it could happen.

“So, who you going with now, young lady?” Coughlin didn’t approve of me, but he didn’t hate me, either.

“Eric Northman,” I said, and I realized I didn’t sound at all happy about that.

“Out with the furries and in with the coldies, huh?”

Eric had been talking to Pam in a very low voice, but now he turned to stare at me.

“I guess so.” The first time I’d seen Detective Coughlin, I’d been with Alcide Herveaux. The second time, I’d been with Quinn the weretiger. They had been in their human forms then, and he hadn’t known their second identity since the two-natured hadn’t revealed their existence. By now he’d figured it out. Mike Coughlin might be slow and unimpressive, but he wasn’t stupid.

“So you’re with the party that came in with T-Rex?” he asked.

I wasn’t used to the humans being more interesting than the vampires. I smiled. “Yes, I met him tonight at Eric’s.”

“You ever see him wrestle?”

“No. He’s a big guy, huh?”

“Yeah, and he does a lot for the community, too. He takes toys to the kids in the hospital at Christmas and Easter.”

So, though T-Rex was not a wereanimal, he was two-faced. One side of him did community service and helped area charities raise money. The other side of him hit opponents upside the head with chairs and made out with women on other people’s dining room tables.

Mike Coughlin said, “If they rope me in to help question, I’ll ask for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, wondering if that was really anything to smile about. “But I hope I’m through with questions.”

He went off to have a closer look at Thad Rexford. Pam, Eric, Bill, and I sat together without exchanging a word.

Vampires are super at silence. They just go into motionless vampire mode. You would swear they were statues, they get so still. I don’t know what they think about when they do this; maybe they don’t think at all, but just switch themselves off. It’s almost impossible for a human to do this. I guess deep meditation would be the closest state a breather could achieve, and I am no practitioner of meditation, deep or shallow.

After a while, during which nothing much happened at all, Detective Coughlin came over to tell us we could go. He gave no explanation. Eric didn’t request one. I had been on the point of asking if I could curl up under someone’s desk. I was too tired to summon the energy to be resentful at our treatment.

Pam whipped out her cell phone to call Fangtasia so someone would pick us up. Dawn wasn’t far away; Felipe and his party wanted to go directly to their vampire-safe rooms at the Trifecta, and the Shreveport vamps didn’t want to wait on a human cab.

While we were standing outside waiting on our ride, the three vampires turned to me. “What was it the man on the telephone was telling Cara Ambroselli?” Pam asked. “What did they find?”

“They found a little glass vial, like florists stick individual flowers in?”

The vampires looked puzzled. I measured one off with my fingers. “Just big enough for one flower stem to soak in water,” I said. “The vial may have had a stopper on it, but they didn’t find that. The vial was on the ground underneath her. They think it had been tucked in her bra. It had traces of blood.”

They all considered that. “I’ll bet you a demon’s dick that she had a bit of fairy blood in it,” Pam said. “She came into the house somehow, and when she got close to Eric, she uncorked the little vial and made herself irresistible.”

“Except he could have resisted,” I muttered, but they all ignored me. “And if that’s what happened, where is the stopper?”

We were all too tired to talk about this interesting development any further; at least, I was, and the other three didn’t.

In five minutes, Palomino showed up in a candy-apple-red Mustang. She was wearing the uniform the female waitstaff wore at the Trifecta, and there wasn’t much to it. I was too sleepy to ask her when she’d begun working at the casino. I climbed into the backseat with Bill, while Pam sat in Eric’s lap in the passenger front seat. We didn’t even discuss the seating.

Eric broke the silence by asking Palomino if anyone had heard from Mustapha.

The young vamp glanced over at him. Her hair was like corn silk and her skin was like milky caramel. The unusual combination had earned her the nickname, and that was the only thing I knew to call her. I had no idea what had been written on her birth certificate.

“No, Master. No one has seen or heard from Mustapha.”

Bill silently took my hand. I silently let him. In the heat, his hand felt pleasantly cool.

“Everything all right at the club?” Eric said. “At least, as far as you know.”

“Yes, Master. I heard there was one disagreement, but Thalia settled it.”

“How big was the bill for this settling?”

“A broken arm, a broken leg.”

Thalia was ancient, incredibly strong, and notoriously short on patience.

“No furniture?”

“Not this time.”

“Indira and Maxwell Lee kept an eye on things?”

“Maxwell Lee says so,” Palomino said cautiously.

Eric laughed; not a big laugh, but something in the chuckle range. “Damned with faint praise,” he said.

Indira and Maxwell, who lived and worked in Eric’s sheriffdom, Area Five, were required to put in so many hours a month at the bar so Fangtasia could boast that every night there were real vampires in the club. That was the big draw for the tourists. While Indira and Maxwell (and most of the other Area Five vamps) were dutiful about their bar appearances, they were not enthusiastic.

Palomino and Eric might have solved the mysteries of the universe during the rest of their conversation, but I didn’t hear their conclusions. I fell asleep. When we arrived at Eric’s, Bill had to help me scramble out of the backseat. Palomino pulled away the instant Bill slammed the door. Pam quickly got into her own car for the short drive to her house, casting an anxious glance at the sky as she backed out of the driveway.

If a crime-scene team had been at the house, its job was finished. We had to enter through the garage door, since there was tape around the place where Kym had lain. I trudged into the house, so groggy I was only partly aware of what was going on around me.