The Complete Sookie Stackhouse Stories (Sookie Stackhouse/True Blood)

by Charlaine Harris

  As the other strippers had been questioned, they’d been released. We were the last ones to be brought to this room, which I figured had been Rudy’s office. Officer Washington had been waiting for us there.

  “What else happened while you were in there? They want you two to give them a free sample?” Washington was young enough to look faintly self-conscious.

  “They seemed more interested in each other,” I said carefully.

  The policeman glanced at our linked hands and didn’t comment. “So they were both alive and well when you left the room?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “In fact, they wanted us to hustle out of there because they were about to talk to someone else, had a guy coming in from out of town, they said.”

  “That right? Did they say anything else about this man? Vampire or human?”

  “No,” Pam said, opening her mouth for the first time. “They were just anxious for us to leave so they could get ready.”

  “Get ready? How?”

  We shrugged simultaneously. “They wouldn’t hardly tell us,” I said.

  “Okay, okay.” Officer Washington snapped his notepad shut and stowed away his pencil. “Ladies, good night to you. You can go pick up your personal items.”

  But we didn’t have any. Pam only had the car keys in her pants pocket and her white trench coat. We had nothing we could have brought costumes in. Would Officer Washington or Windbreaker Guy wonder about that?

  Now that the big room was empty, it looked even more depressing. Only a litter of tissues and cigarette butts showed that the women had been here at all. That, and the big bag the vamp stripper had carried, sitting on the chair that was draped with Pam’s white coat and my jacket. Windbreaker Guy was staring at the bag. Without hesitation, Pam strode across the floor in those incredible shoes and scooped it up by the shoulder strap.

  “Come on, Butterscotch,” she told me, “We need to hit the road.” Her voice had no trace of the faint English accent I was used to.

  And just like that, we left Blonde, doing our stripper walks all the way out to Pam’s car.

  Mohawk was leaning against the driver’s door.

  He smiled at us as we approached. His smile was not dim or goofy or naïve.

  “Thanks for giving me the opening, ladies,” he said, and there was nothing slow in his speech, either. “I’ve been waiting a year to have them down long enough for me to finish them off.”

  If Pam was as shocked as I was, she didn’t show it. “You’re welcome,” she said. “I take it you’re not going to tell the police anything about us?”

  “What’s to tell?” He looked up at the night sky. “Two strippers wanted to tell the boss and his buddy something before they tried out. I’m sure you explained that. When you went onstage, that asshole Michael and his buddy Rudy were alive and kicking. I made sure the cops knew that. I’m betting you also told them something about Michael mentioning he was expecting someone else or expecting trouble.”

  Pam nodded.

  “And stupid, slow me, I was cleaning the toilet, like my boss Michael had told me to do. No one was more surprised than me when I went in the office later and found Rudy dead and Michael flaking away.” Mohawk rolled his eyes theatrically. “I must have just missed the killer.” He grinned. “By the way, I threw the gun in the ravine back there, right down into the kudzu, before I called the local law. The skinny blond vamp did the same thing with your blouse—Sugar.”

  “Right,” Pam said.

  “So off you go, ladies! Have a nice night!”

  After a moment of silence, we got in the car. Mohawk watched us as we drove away.

  “How long do you think he’ll last?” I asked Pam.

  “Russell has a reputation for acuity. If Mohawk is a good club manager, he’ll get away with killing Michael, for a while. If he doesn’t earn money, Russell will make sure he doesn’t last. And Russell won’t forget that Mohawk is patient and wily, and willing to wait for someone else to do the dirty work.”

  We drove for a few minutes. I was anxious to get back to my room and wash away the atmosphere of the Blonde.

  “What did you promise the vamp that helped us?” I asked.

  “A job at Fangtasia. I had a conversation with Sara—that’s her name—after you went to bed last night. She hates her job in Tunica. And she used to be a stripper, which gave me the idea of planting her here in case we needed some help. Besides extra costumes, she brought a number of handy items in her bag.”

  I didn’t inquire as to their nature. “And she did all that for us.”

  “She did all that because she wants a better job. She doesn’t seem to have much . . . planning ability.”

  “In the end, the trip was for nothing. It was a trap.”

  “It was a bad trap,” Pam said briskly. “But it’s true that because of Victor’s greed, we were almost in serious trouble.” She glanced over at me. “Eric and I never thought Victor was exactly sincere about his motives in sending us here.”

  “You think he was trying to hamstring Eric by getting rid of both you and me? That he knew Michael really wasn’t going to defect?”

  “I think we’re going to keep a very sharp eye on our new master’s deputy.”

  We rode in silence for a couple of minutes.

  “You think Sara would mind if we kept the costumes?” I asked, now that Eric was on my mind.

  “Oh,” said Pam, “I’m planning on it. Without some souvenirs, it’s not a real vacation.”

  SMALL-TOWN WEDDING

  “Small-Town Wedding” is the only Sookie novella, and I had a great time imagining it and writing it. Sookie, masquerading as Sam’s girlfriend, accompanies her boss and friend to a family wedding in Sam’s hometown in Texas. Sookie meets Sam’s family, including his brother, the groom; and she likes them all. But there’s a black cloud on the horizon. Everyone in Sam’s family has shifter blood, and prejudice is at an all-time high against the two-natured and the Weres. The bride is completely human. The wedding becomes a test case as the anti-were groups arrive to protest the union. The situation escalates almost beyond saving, when the were community steps up to protect the shifters. This was a great pleasure to write, since I had the chance to introduce some important themes and to establish the groundwork for the ending of the series.

  The upheaval of American society that forms the basis of “Small-Town Wedding” takes place after Dead in the Family.

  ONE

  IT WAS MAY, I had a great tan, and I was going on a road trip, leaving vampire politics behind. I felt better than I had in a long time. Wearing only my underwear, I stood in my sunny bedroom and went down my checklist.

  1. Give Eric and Jason address and dates

  I’d done that. My boyfriend, Eric Northman, vampire sheriff of Area Five of Louisiana, had all the information he needed. So did my brother, Jason.

  2. Ask Bill to watch house

  Okay. I’d left a letter pushed under my neighbor Bill Compton’s door. He’d find it when he rose for the night. His “sister” Judith (sired by the same vampire) was still staying at his place. If Bill could tear himself away from her company, he would walk across the cemetery separating our properties to have a look at my house, and he’d get my mail and my newspaper and put them on my front porch.

  3. Call Tara

  I’d done that; my pregnant friend Tara reported all was well with the twins she was carrying, and she’d call or get her husband to call if there was any news. She wasn’t due for three more months. But twins, right? You never knew.

  4. Bank

  I’d deposited my last paycheck and gotten more cash than I usually carried.

  5. Claude and Dermot

  My cousin and my great-uncle had decided to stay at Claude’s house in Monroe while I was gone. Claude had been living with me for about a month, and Dermot had joined him only two w
eeks ago, so Dermot said he still felt funny being in my house without me there. Claude, of course, had no such qualms, since he’s about as sensitive as a sheet of sandpaper, but Dermot had carried the day.

  All my clothes were clean, and I thought I was packed. Though it would be a good idea to review my packing list, which was completely separate from my “things to do” list. Since my friend and boss, Sam Merlotte, had invited me to go with him to his brother’s wedding, I’d been in a nervous tizzy about forgetting something essential and somehow making Sam look bad in front of his family.

  I had borrowed a pretty dress, sleeveless and blue, like my eyes, to wear to the wedding, and I had some black pumps with three-inch heels that were in great condition. For everything else, I packed the best and newest of my casual clothes: two pairs of good shorts, an extra pair of jeans. I threw in a yellow and gray skirt outfit, just in case.

  I counted my underwear, made sure I had the right bras, and checked the little jewelry pouch to be sure my gran’s pearls were there. I shut the bag, triumphant. I’d done my best to cover every contingency, and I’d fit everything into a hanging bag and a weekender bag.

  Just as I reopened the bag to make sure I’d included my blow-dryer, I heard Sam’s truck coming up the driveway that wound through the woods. In thirty seconds I pulled on my khaki shorts and a very thin white tank top with a teal tank layered over it. I had a little gold chain on, and I slid my feet into my new sandals. My toenails were a happy pink (Run Run Rosy). I felt great. I hurried to the front door and opened it just as Sam was about to knock.

  He was wearing his usual jeans and Merlotte’s Bar and Grill T-shirt, but he was sporting ancient cowboy boots. Yep, we were going to Texas, all right. His red gold hair was shorter these days, and I could tell he’d taken special care shaving.

  “Sorry I’m a little late,” he said. “I had to give Kennedy and Terry some extra instructions.” The two substitute bartenders were going to be in charge while Sam was gone, and Sam was pretty nervous about it.

  “No problem. I’m ready.” He picked up my overnighter while I got my hanging bag and locked the door behind me. Luckily, Sam’s pickup had an extended cab, and we were able to put our clothes on the backseat.

  “You looking forward to this?” I asked him, when we were on the interstate. We were going across the state line from Louisiana into Texas to a small town called Wright, south of the interstate past Dallas, where Sam’s folks had settled after his dad got out of the service.

  “This is the first nice thing that’s happened in my family in months, and for a while I didn’t think this wedding would ever come off,” he said. “I really appreciate your going with me.”

  “Are they putting pressure on you to get married?” I should have realized before that there might be another reason Sam wanted me to accompany him, something beyond the pleasure of my company. Some women have long careers as bridesmaids; I had a long career of being a pretend girlfriend. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a perpetual pattern.

  “That might be overstating it,” Sam said. He grinned at me. “But my mom and my sister sure are ready for me to show them I’m thinking about the subject. Of course, the shifters going public and my mom’s troubles kind of put my own marital status on the back burner.”

  The Weres had revealed their existence on television a few months before, following the vampire model. Many of the other two-natured (or “twoeys,” as the pop-culture magazines had immediately started calling them) had shown themselves at the same time. Oddly, the American public seemed to be more upset about the werewolves and werepanthers living among them than they’d been when they found out vampires were real.

  “Does your mom try to set you up with nice shifter girls all the time?”

  “So far she hasn’t been able to find another pure shifter like me, though my sister, Mindy, told me Mom had gone online trying to track one down.” Sam could turn into anything: lion, dog, raccoon. His kind was pretty rare.

  “Gosh. Are you sure you shouldn’t have brought Jannalynn? She may not be exactly who your family wants you to bring home—at least, that’s what you said—but she’s a werewolf, and that’s better than a human like me, right? At least to your mom. If your mom’s looking for a woman for you online, that’s kind of . . . desperate, huh?”

  Sam laughed. “Definitely. But Mom means well. She was really happy with my dad, and their first date was a setup. If she can find an unattached female shifter the right age, she’s hoping lightning will strike twice in the Merlotte family.”

  “You told me that you’d almost gotten married once.”

  “Yeah, when I was in the army. She was a good ol’ girl, regular human. My dad would have liked her. But it just didn’t work out.”

  I wanted to ask why, but I knew it was none of my business.

  He asked, “You think you and Eric might get married now that it’s legal?”

  I started to tell him we were married already, according to my big blond vampire boyfriend, but decided it would be better to skip that discussion entirely.

  “He hasn’t asked me,” I said, which was the truth. He hadn’t asked me about the vampire marriage rite, either. I’d handed him a ceremonial knife in front of a witness without asking a single question, which proves how little sense I could have when I was around Eric.

  As the miles carried me away from Eric, the bond between us stretched but did not break. Eric was a silent presence. Miles of Texas interstate rolled by, and though I knew Eric was in his bed, dead to the world, I couldn’t help thinking about him. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been if he’d been awake, though.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” Sam said.

  I jumped because my thoughts weren’t family-rated at that moment.

  “I was hoping Bill recovers from the silver poisoning. I found a vampire sibling of his, and I got her to come visit. He’d told me if he got some blood from a sib, it would really help him heal.”

  Sam looked a little nonplussed. “How’d you do that?” he asked.

  When I told him how I’d tracked Judith down, he shook his head. “How’d you know he wouldn’t get mad at you?”

  “I was doing it for him,” I said, not understanding Sam’s point. “Why would he get mad?”

  Sam said gently, “Sook, Bill obviously knew where this Judith was, and he didn’t call her on his own. He must have had a reason.”

  I knew that. But I’d gone ahead and contacted her anyway. I’d only thought about how worried I was about Bill. I could feel myself tearing up. I didn’t want to admit to Sam that he was right.

  I looked out the window so Sam wouldn’t have to watch my eyes brim over.

  “Sook?” he said, and from his voice I could tell he had leaned forward to try to see my face. “Sook? Hey, I’m sorry. Listen, I was just blowing hot air. You were watching out for him, and I’m probably just jealous.”

  I could read his mind enough to know he wasn’t being entirely truthful—but he did sincerely want me to feel better, and he was truly sorry I was upset. “You’re right,” I said, though my voice wobbled in a pathetic way. “Sam, you’re absolutely right. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

  “Don’t we all? I’ve made more than a few, and I don’t seem to stop making them,” Sam said, and there was bitterness in his voice.

  “Okay. We’re both human; we got that settled,” I said, making myself smile. “Or, at least, we’re mostly human.”

  He laughed, and I felt better. I rummaged around in my purse for a Kleenex and patted my eyes carefully to keep my makeup intact. I got a Coca-Cola out of the ice chest behind Sam’s seat and popped it open for him, and got myself one, too. We talked about the sorry season the Bon Temps Hawks baseball team was having, and I told Sam about watching the softball team practice the week before. I felt good when I was confident everything was back to normal between us.

 
; When we stopped to get gas outside Dallas, I watched a black Ford Focus shoot by. “That’s funny,” I said to Sam, who was punching his PIN into the pump. “That’s the same car I saw when we pulled over to find out what that noise was.” A branch had caught under the truck and had been making an alarming whap-whap-whap.

  Sam glanced up. “Huh,” he said. “Well, the interstate is always busy, and the Focus is a popular model.”

  “This is the same one,” I said. “There’s a place on the driver’s side of the windshield where a rock hit.”

  Then I went inside the station to visit the ladies’ room, because I could tell Sam didn’t want to be worrying about a Ford Focus. I didn’t, either, but there it was.

  I kept a sharp eye out for the car after that, but I didn’t bring up the subject again. As a result, we made pleasant conversation past Dallas and Fort Worth, all the way to the turn off the interstate that would lead us south to Wright.

  I’d offered to drive, but Sam said he was so familiar with the route that he didn’t mind being at the wheel. “I’m just glad to have company making the drive, for once,” he said. “I’ve had to go over to Wright so often since the announcement.” Sam’s mom had had a huge crisis the evening of the big two-natured reveal, broadcast worldwide; her second husband had been so startled by the fact that his wife could turn into an animal that he’d shot her.

  “But you’ve got the one sister and the one brother,” I said.

  “Yeah, Mindy and Craig. Mindy’s twenty-six. She’s married to Doke Ballinger. She went to high school with him. They have two kids, Mason and Bonnie. They live about thirty miles away in Mooney.”

  “What’s the name of the woman Craig’s marrying? Daisy? Denise?”

  “Deidra. She’s from Wright, too. She and Craig have both been going to UT Dallas. She’s a real pretty girl, only nineteen, and Craig’s twenty-four. He went into the army before he started college.”