what men will remember. I started to feel a little touched and tender. Sam said, “You were sitting right in front of me, and I was looking at the back of your head the whole service.”
I nodded. That was more like it. “I wish I knew what had happened to it since then. I’d like to know who got it out of my house and used it on Arlene. I know I wore it to the bar once. I don’t know if it got lifted out of my purse or stolen from my drawer in my bedroom. That’s gross and sneaky.” At that moment I remembered my drawer being ajar. I wrinkled my nose, thinking of someone pawing through my scarves and panties. And one or two things had seemed to be out of place. I told Sam about the little incident. “It doesn’t sound like much when I say it out loud, though,” I concluded ruefully.
He smiled, just a little upturn of his lips, but I was glad to see it. His hair was wilder than usual, which was saying something. The sun caught the reddish bristles on his chin. “You need to shave,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed, but absently. “We’ll check it out. I was wondering . . . Andy knows you can read minds. But it seems like he can’t keep that in his head when he’s talking to you. Does that happen a lot?”
“He knows, but he doesn’t know. He’s not the only one who acts that way. The people who do get that I’m different—not just a little crazy—they still don’t seem to get it completely. Andy’s a true believer. He really understands that I can see what’s in his head. But he just can’t adapt to that.”
“You can’t hear me that way,” Sam said, just to reaffirm what he already knew.
“General mood and intent, I pick up. But not specific thoughts. That’s always the way with supernaturals.”
“Like?”
It took me a minute to interpret that. “Like, right now I can tell you’re worried, you’re glad I’m here, you’re wishing we’d cut the scarf off her neck before the police got here. It’s easy to get that, because I’m wishing the same damn thing.”
Sam grimaced. “That’s what I get for being squeamish. I knew there was something around her throat, but I didn’t want to look any closer. And I definitely didn’t want to touch her again.”
“Who would?” We fell silent. We sweated. We watched. Since we were sitting on Sam’s own steps, looking over his own hedge, they could hardly tell us to go away. After a while, I got so bored that I called or texted the people due to work today to tell them to come in at three. I thought of all the lawyers I knew, and debated which one to call if I had to. Beth Osiecki had prepared my will, and I’d liked her real well. Her partner, Jarrell Hilburn, had prepared the document that formalized my loan to Sam to keep the business afloat, and he’d also prepared the paperwork giving me part interest in the bar.
On the other hand, Desmond Cataliades was very effective and personally interested in me, since he’d been best buds with my biological grandfather. But he was based in New Orleans and had a brisk trade, since he was knowledgeable about both the supernatural world and American law. I didn’t know if the part-demon would be able or willing to come to my aid. His e-mail had been friendly, and he’d talked about coming to see me. It would cost me an arm and a leg (not literally), but as soon as the bank released the check from Claudine’s estate, I’d be good for his fee.
In the meantime, maybe the police would find another suspect and make an arrest. Maybe I wouldn’t need a lawyer. I thought about the last statement I’d received for my savings account. After the ten thousand I’d put into Merlotte’s, I had around three thousand remaining from the money I’d earned from the vampires. I’d just inherited a lot of money—$150,000—from my fairy godmother, Claudine, and you’d think I’d be sitting pretty. But the bank issuing the check had come under sudden and vigorous scrutiny by the Louisiana government, and all its checks had been frozen. I’d called my bank to find out what was up. My money was there . . . but I couldn’t use it. I found this utterly suspicious.