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That was true. "Maybe someone doesn't like you personally, Sam," I said, though it came out sounding harsher than I'd intended. "I mean," I added quickly, "maybe someone wants to hurt you through damaging your business. Not you as a shapeshifter, but you as a person."

"I don't recall anything that personal," he said, genuinely bewildered.

"Ah . . . Jannalynn have a vengeful ex, anything like that?"

Sam was startled by the idea. "I really haven't heard of anyone who resented me dating her," he said. "And Jannalynn's more than capable of speaking her mind. It's not like I could coerce her into going out with me."

I had a hard time repressing a snort of laughter. "Just trying to think of all possibilities," I said apologetically.

"That's okay," he said. He shrugged. "Bottom line is, I can't remember when I've made anyone really mad."

I couldn't remember any such incident myself, and I'd known Sam for years.

Pretty soon we were pulling up to the antiques shop, which was located in a former paint store in a down-sliding older business street in Shreveport.

The big front windows were sparkling clean, and the pieces that had been positioned there were beautiful. The largest was what my grandmother had called a hunt sideboard. It was heavy and ornate and just about as tall as my chest. The other window featured a collection of jardinieres, or vases, I wasn't sure which to call them. The one in the center, positioned to show that it was the cream of the crop, was sea green and blue and had cherubs stuck on it. I thought it was hideous, but it definitely had style.

Sam and I looked at the display for a moment in thoughtful silence before we went in. A bell-a real bell, not an electronic chime-jangled as we pushed open the door. A woman sitting on a stool behind a counter to the right looked up. She pushed her glasses up on her nose.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Merlotte," she said, smiling with just the right intensity. I remember you, I'm glad you came back, but I'm not personally interested in you as a man. I remember you, I'm glad you came back, but I'm not personally interested in you as a man. She was good. She was good.

"Thanks, Ms. Hesterman," Sam said. "This is my friend, Sookie Stackhouse."

"Welcome to Splendide," Ms. Hesterman said. "Please call me Brenda. What can I do for you today?"

"We've got two errands," Sam said. "I'm here to look at the pieces you called me about. . . ."

"And I've just cleaned out my attic and I have some things I wondered if you could take a look at," I said. "I need to get rid of some of the odds and ends I brought down. I don't want to put it all back." I smiled, to show general goodwill.

"So you've had a family place a long time?" she asked, encouraging me to give her a clue about what sort of possessions my family might have accumulated.

"We've lived in the same house for about a hundred and seventy years," I told her, and she brightened. "But it's an old farm, not a mansion. Might be some things you'd be interested in, though."

"I'd love to come take a look," she said, though clearly "love" was overstating it a little. "We'll set up a time as soon as I help Sam pick out a gift for Jannalynn. She's so modern, who would have thought she'd be interested in antiques? She's such a little cutie!"

I had a hard time keeping my mouth from dropping open. Did we know the same Jannalynn Hopper?

Sam poked me in the ribs when Brenda turned her back to fetch a ring of small keys. He made a significant face, and I smoothed out my expression and batted my eyelashes at him. He looked away, but not before I caught a reluctant grin.

"Sam, I've put together some things Jannalynn might like," Brenda said, and led us over to a display case, keys jingling in her hand. The case was full of little things, pretty things. I couldn't identify most of them. I leaned over the glass top to look down.

"What are those?" I pointed at some lethal sharp-pointed objects with ornate heads. I wondered if you could kill a vampire with one "Hat pins and stickpins, for scarves and cravats."

There were also earrings and rings and brooches, plus enamel boxes, beaded boxes, painted boxes. All these little containers were carefully arranged. Were they snuffboxes? I read the price tag discreetly peeking out from under a tortoiseshell and silver oval box, and had to clamp my lips together to restrain my gasp.

While I was still wondering about the items I was examining, Brenda and Sam were comparing the merits of art deco pearl earrings versus a Victorian pressed-glass hair receiver with an enameled brass lid. Whatever the hell that was.

"What do you think, Sookie?" he asked, looking from one item to another.

I examined the art deco earrings, pearl drops dangling from a rose gold setting. The hair receiver was pretty, too, though I couldn't imagine what it was for or what Jannalynn would do with it. Did anyone need to receive hair anymore?

"She'll wear the earrings to show them off," I said. "It's harder to brag about getting a hair receiver." Brenda gave me a veiled look, and I understood from her thoughts that this opinion branded me as a philistine. So be it.

"The hair receiver's older," Sam said, wavering.

"But less personal. Unless you're Victorian."

While Sam compared the two smaller items to the beauties of a seventy-year-old New Bedford police badge, I wandered around the store, looking at the furniture. I discovered I was not an antiques appreciator. This was just one more flaw in my mundane character, I decided. Or maybe it was because I was surrounded by antiques all the day long? Nothing in my house was new except the kitchen, and that only because the old one had been destroyed by fire. I'd still be using Gran's ancient refrigerator if the flames hadn't eaten it up. (That refrigerator was one antique I didn't miss, for sure.) I slid open a long, narrow drawer on what the tag described as a "map chest." There was a sliver of paper left in it.

"Look at that," Brenda Hesterman's voice said from behind me. "I'd thought I'd gotten that thoroughly clean. Let that be a lesson, Miss Stackhouse. Before we come to look at your things, be sure to go through them and remove all papers and other objects. You don't want to sell us something you didn't intend to part with."

I turned around to see that Sam was holding a wrapped package. While I'd been lost in exploration, he'd made his purchase (the earrings, to my relief; the hair receiver was back in its spot in the case).

"She'll love the earrings. They're beautiful," I said honestly, and for a second Sam's thoughts got snarled, almost . . . purple. Strange, that I would think of colors. Lingering effect of the shaman drug I'd taken for the Weres? I hoped to hell not.

"I'll be sure to look over everything real carefully, Brenda," I said to the antiques dealer.

We made an appointment for two days later. She assured me that she could find my isolated house with her GPS, and I warned her about the long driveway through the woods, which had led several visitors to believe they'd become lost. "I don't know if I'll come, or my partner, Donald," Brenda said. "Maybe both of us."

"I'll be glad to see you," I said. "If you run into any trouble or need to change the date, please let me know."

"Do you really think she'll like them?" Sam asked when we were in the truck and buckled up. We'd reverted to the topic of Jannalynn.

"Sure," I said, surprised. "Why wouldn't she?"

"I can't shake the feeling I'm on the wrong track with Jannalynn," Sam said. "You want to stop and get something to eat at the Ruby Tuesday's on Youree?"

"Sure," I said. "Sam, why do you think that?"

"She likes me," he said. "I mean, I can tell. But she's always thinking about the pack."

"You think maybe she's more focused on Alcide than on you?" That was what I was getting from Sam's head. Maybe I was being too blunt, though. Sam flushed.

"Yeah, maybe," he admitted.

"She's a great enforcer, and she was real excited to get the job," I said. I wondered if that had come out neutral enough.

"She was," he said.

"You seem to like strong women."

He smiled. "I do like strong women, and I'm not afraid of the different ones. Run-of-the-mill just doesn't cut it with me."

I smiled back at him. "I can tell. I don't know what to say about Jannalynn, Sam. She'd be an idiot not to appreciate you. Single, self-supporting, good looking? And you don't even pick your teeth at the table! What's not to love?" I took a deep breath, because I was about to change the subject and I didn't want to offend my boss. "Hey, Sam, about that website you visit? You think you could find out about why I'm feeling more fairy after hanging out with my fairy relatives? I mean, I couldn't actually be changing into more of a fairy, right?"

"I'll see what I can find," Sam said, after a fraught moment. "But let's try asking your bunk buddies. They ought to cough up any information that would help you. Or I could beat it out of them."

He was serious.

"They'll tell me." I sounded more sure of that than I felt.

"Where are they now?" he asked.

"By this time, they've gone to the club," I said, after a glance at my watch. "They get all their business done before the club opens."

"Then that's where we'll go," Sam said. "Kennedy was opening for me today, and you're not on until tonight, right?"

"Right," I said, discarding my plans for the afternoon, which hadn't been very urgent to start with. If we ate lunch at Ruby Tuesday's, we couldn't reach Monroe until one thirty, but I could make it home in time to change for work. After I'd ordered, I excused myself. While I was in the ladies' room, my cell phone rang. I don't answer my phone while I'm in a bathroom. I wouldn't like to be talking to someone and hear a toilet flush, right? Since the restaurant was noisy, I stepped outside to return the call after a wave at Sam. The number seemed faintly familiar.

"Hey, Sookie," said Remy Savoy. "How you doing?"

"Good. How's my favorite little boy?" Remy had been married to my cousin Hadley, and they'd had a son, Hunter, who would be starting kindergarten in the fall. After Katrina, Remy and Hunter had moved to the little town of Red Ditch, where Remy had gotten a job working at a lumberyard through the good services of a cousin.

"He's doing good. He's trying hard to follow your rules. I wonder if I could ask a favor?"

"Let's hear it," I said.

"I've started dating a lady here name of Erin. We were thinking about going to the bass fishing tournament outside Baton Rouge this weekend. We, ah, we were kind of hoping you could keep Hunter? He gets bored if I fish more than an hour."

Hmmm. Remy moved pretty fast. Kristen hadn't been too long ago, and she'd already been replaced. I could kind of see it. Remy was not bad-looking, he was a skilled carpenter, and he had only one child-plus, Hunter's mom was dead, so there weren't any custody issues. Not too shabby a prospect in the town of Red Ditch. "Remy, I'm on the road right now," I said. "Let me call you back in a little while. I gotta check my work schedule."

"Great, thanks a lot, Sookie. Talk to you later."

I went back inside to find that our food had been served.

"That was Hunter's dad calling," I told my boss after the server left. "Remy's got a new girlfriend, and he wanted to know if I could keep Hunter this weekend."

I got the impression that Sam believed Remy was trying to take advantage of me-but Sam also felt he could hardly tell me what to do about it. "If I remember the schedule right, you're working this Saturday night," he pointed out.

And Saturday night was when I made my biggest tips.

I nodded, both to Sam and myself. While we ate, we talked about Terry's negotiations with a breeder of Catahoulas in Ruston. Terry's Annie had gotten out of her pen last time she'd been in heat. This time, Terry had a more planned pregnancy in mind, and the talks between the two men had nearly reached prenup status. A question rose to my mind, and I wasn't quite sure how to phrase it to Sam. My curiosity got the better of me.

"You remember Bob the cat?" I asked.

"Sure. That guy Amelia turned into a cat by accident? Her friend Octavia turned him back."

"Yeah. Well, the thing is, while he was a cat, he was black and white. He was a really cute cat. But Amelia found a female cat in the woods with a litter, and there were some black-and-white kittens among 'em, so she got-okay, I know this is weird-she got pissed off at Bob because she thought he'd, you know, become a dad. Sort of."

"So your question is, is that a common thing?" Sam looked disgusted. "Naw, Sookie. We can't do that, and we don't want to. None of the two-natured. Even if there were a sexual encounter, there wouldn't be a pregnancy. I think Amelia was accusing Bob falsely. On the other hand, he isn't-wasn't-really two-natured. He was completely transformed by magic." Sam shrugged. He looked very embarrassed.

"Sorry," I said, feeling mortified. "That was tacky of me."

"It's a natural thing to wonder about, I guess," Sam said dubiously. "But when I'm in my other skin, I'm not out making puppies."

Now I was horribly horribly embarrassed. "Please, accept my apology," I said. embarrassed. "Please, accept my apology," I said.

He relaxed when he saw how uncomfortable I was. He patted me on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it." Then he asked me what plans I had for the attic now that I'd emptied it, and we talked of trivial things until we were back to feeling okay with each other.

I called Remy back when we were on the interstate. "Remy, this weekend won't work for me. Sorry!" I explained that I had to work.

"Don't worry about it," Remy said. He sounded calm about my refusal. "It was just a thought. Listen, here's the thing. I hate to ask for another favor. But Hunter has to visit the kindergarten next week, just a thing the school does every year so the kids will have a mental picture of the place they're going in the fall. They tour the classrooms, meet the teachers, and see the lunchroom and the bathrooms. Hunter asked me if you could go with us."

My mouth fell open. I was glad Remy couldn't see me. "This is during the day, I'm assuming," I said. "What day of the week?"

"Next Tuesday, two o'clock."

Unless I was on for the lunch shift, I could do it. "Again, let me check my work schedule, but I think that's going to be doable," I said. "I'll call you back tonight." I snapped my phone shut and told Sam about Remy's second request.

"Seems like he waited to ask you the more important thing second, so you'd be more likely to come," Sam asked.

I laughed. "I didn't think of that until you said it. My brain is wired in a straighter line than that. But now that it's crossed my mind, that seems . . . not unlikely." I shrugged. "It's not like I object, exactly. I want Hunter to be happy. And I've spent time with him, though not as much as I should have." Hunter and I were alike in a hidden way; we were both telepathic. But that was our secret because I feared Hunter might be in danger if his ability was known. It sure hadn't improved my my life any. life any.

"So why are you worried? Because I can tell you are," Sam said.

"Just . . . it'll look funny. People in Red Ditch will think Remy and I are dating. That I'm sort of-close to being Hunter's mom. And Remy just told me he's seeing a woman named Erin, and she may not like it. . . ." My voice trailed off. This visit seemed like a mildly bad idea. But if it would make Hunter happy, I supposed I ought to do it.

"You have that sucked-in feeling?" Sam's smile was wry. It was our day to talk about awkward things.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I do. When I got involved in Hunter's life, I didn't ever imagine he'd really depend on me for anything. I guess I've never been around kids that much. Remy's got a great-aunt and great-uncle in Red Ditch. That's why he moved there after Katrina. They had an empty rental house. But the aunt and uncle are too old to want to keep a kid Hunter's age for more than an hour or two, and the one cousin is too busy to be much help."

"Hunter a good kid?"

"Yes, I think he is." I smiled. "You know what's weird? When Hunter stayed with me, he and Claude got along great. That was a big surprise."

Sam glanced over at me. "But you wouldn't want to leave him with Claude for hours, would you?"

After a moment's thought, I said, "No."

Sam nodded, as if I'd confirmed something he'd been wondering about. "Cause after all, Claude's a fairy?" He put enough question into his voice to ensure that I knew he was genuinely asking me.

The words sounded very unpleasant said out loud. But they were the truth. "Yes, because Claude's a fairy. But not because he's a different race from us." I struggled with how to express what I wanted to say. "Fairies, they love kids. But they don't have the same frame of reference as most humans. Fairies'll do what they think will make the child happy, or will benefit the child, rather than what a Christian adult would do." It made me feel small and provincial to admit all this, but those were my true feelings. I felt like adding a series of disclaimers-Not that I think I'm such a great Christian, far from it. Not that non-Christians are bad people. Not that I think Claude would hurt Hunter. But Sam and I had known each other long enough that I was sure he'd understand all that. But Sam and I had known each other long enough that I was sure he'd understand all that.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Sam said, and I felt relieved. But I was far from comfortable. We might be on the same page, but I wasn't happy about reading it.

Spring was verging on summer, and the day was beautiful. I tried to enjoy it all the way east to Monroe, but my success was limited.

My cousin Claude owned Hooligans, a strip club off the interstate outside Monroe. On five nights a week, it featured the conventional entertainment offered at strip clubs. The club was closed on Mondays. But Thursday night was Ladies Only, and that was when Claude stripped. Of course, he wasn't the only male who performed. At least three other male strippers came in on a rotating basis pretty regularly, and there was usually a guest stripper, too. There was a male strip circuit, my cousin had told me.

"You ever come here to watch him?" Sam asked as we pulled up to the back door.

He was not the first person to ask me that. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me, that I hadn't felt the need to rush over to Monroe to watch guys take off their clothes.

"No. I've seen Claude naked. I've never come over to watch him do his thing professionally. I hear he's good."

"He's naked? At your house? At your house?"

"Modesty is not one of Claude's priorities," I said.

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