Dead as a doornail

Page 165

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“Sookie,” Charles said, behind me. “I truly regret this.” “It was you who shot Sam, wasn’t it?” I reached behind me, fumbled for the handle that would open that door. He wouldn’t kill me in front of all those people, would he? Then I remembered the night Eric and Bill had polished off a roomful of men in my house. I remembered it had taken them only three or four minutes. I remembered what the men had looked like afterward. “Yes. It was a stroke of luck when you caught the cook, and she confessed. But she didn’t confess to shooting Sam, did she?” “No, she didn’t,” I said numbly. “All the others, but not Sam, and the bullet didn’t match.” My fingers found the knob. If I turned it, I might live. But I might not. How much did Charles value his own life? “You wanted the job here,” I said. “I thought there was a good chance I’d come in handy when Sam was out of the picture.” “How’d you know I’d go to Eric for help?” “I didn’t. But I knew someone would tell him the bar was in trouble. Since that would mean helping you, he would do it. I was the logical one to send.” “Why are you doing all this?” “Eric owes a debt.” He was moving closer, though not very quickly. Maybe he was reluctant to do the deed. Maybe he was hoping for a more advantageous moment, when he could carry me off in silence. “It looks like Eric’s found out I’m not from the Jackson nest, as I’d said.” “Yeah. You picked the wrong one.” “Why? It seemed ideal to me. Many men there; you wouldn’t have seen them all. No one can remember all the men who’ve passed through that mansion.” “But they’ve heard Bubba sing,” I said softly. “He sang for them one night. You’d never have forgotten that. I don’t know how Eric found out, but I knew as soon as you said you’d never—” He sprang. I was on my back on the floor in a split second, but my hand was already in my pocket, and he opened his mouth to bite. He was supporting himself on his arms, courteously trying not to actually lie on top of me. His fangs were fully out, and they glistened in the light. “I have to do this,” he said. “I’m sworn. I’m sorry.” “I’m not,” I said, and thrust the silver chain into his mouth, using the heel of my hand to snap his jaw


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