Dead as a doornail - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,53
it’s not unknown for men to give a false name and history when they meet a woman in a bar.”
This was true. Though Merlotte’s was primarily a neighborhood bar, I’d listened to many a tale from out-of-towners who’d dropped in; and I’d known for sure they were lying.
“Where was the wallet?” Justine asked. She looked up at me like an old beaten dog, and it made my heart sick.
“In his jacket pocket,” I said.
Jay stood up abruptly. He began to move, pacing in the small space he had at his disposal. “There again,” he said, his voice more animated, “that’s just not like Jeff. He kept his billfold in his jeans, same as me. We never put our wallets in our jacket.”
“What are you saying?” Sam asked.
“I’m saying that I don’t think Jeff did this,” his twin said. “Even those people at the Fina station, they could be mistaken.”
“Someone at the Fina says he bought a can of gas there?” Sam asked.
Justine flinched again, the soft skin of her chin shaking.
I’d been wondering if there might be something to the Marriots’ suspicions, but that idea was extinguished now. The phone rang, and all of us jumped. Sam picked it up and said, “Merlotte’s,” in a calm voice. He listened, said, “Um-hum,” and “That right?” and finally, “I’ll tell her.” He hung up.
“Your brother’s car’s been found,” he told Jay Marriot. “It’s on a little road almost directly across from Sookie’s driveway.”
The light went out completely on the little family’s ray of hope, and I could only feel sorry for them. Justine seemed ten years older than she had when she’d come into the bar, and Jay looked like he’d gone days without sleep or food. They left without another word to me, which was a mercy. From the few sentences they exchanged with each other, I gathered they were going to see Jeff’s car and ask if they could remove any of his belongings from it. I thought they would meet another blank wall there.
Eric had told me that that little road, a dirt track leading back to a deer camp, was where Debbie Pelt had hidden her car when she’d come to kill me. Might as well put up a sign: PARKING FOR SOOKIE STACKHOUSE NIGHTTIME ATTACKS.
Sam came swinging back into the room. He’d been seeing the Marriots out. He stood by me propped against his desk and set his crutches aside. He put his arm around me. I turned to him and slid my arms around his waist. He held me to him, and I felt peaceful for a wonderful minute. The heat of his body warmed me, and the knowledge of his affection comforted me.
“Does your leg hurt?” I asked when he moved restlessly.
“Not my leg,” he said.
I looked up, puzzled, to meet his eyes. He looked rueful. Suddenly, I became aware of exactly what was hurting Sam, and I flushed red. But I didn’t let go of him. I was reluctant to end the comfort of being close to someone—no, of being close to Sam. When I didn’t move away, he slowly put his lips to mine, giving me every chance to step out of reach. His mouth brushed mine once, twice. Then he settled in to kissing me, and the heat of his tongue filled my mouth, stroking.
That felt incredibly good. With the visit of the Marriot family, I’d been browsing the Mystery section. Now I’d definitely wandered over to the Romances.
His height was close enough to mine that I didn’t have to strain upward to meet his mouth. His kiss became more urgent. His lips strayed down my neck, to the vulnerable and sensitive place just at the base, and his teeth nipped very gently.
I gasped. I just couldn’t help it. If I’d had the gift of teleportation, I would’ve had us somewhere more private in an instant. Remotely, I felt there was something kind of tacky at feeling this lustful in a messy office in a bar. But the heat surged as he kissed me again. We’d always had something between us, and the smoldering ember had just burst into flame.
I struggled to hold on to some sense. Was this survivor lust? What about his leg? Did he really need the buttons on his shirt?
“Not good enough for you here,” he said, doing a little gasping of his own. He pulled away and reached for his crutches, but then he hauled me back and kissed me again. “Sookie, I’m going to—”