Free Sookie 04 Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris Page A

slow voice and the mashed-in face of a Pekinese, and it was all too easy to picture him snuffling into the phone.
    “He never misses work, and his truck is at his house. The door was open,” I said.
    He did grasp that significance, because Bud Dearborn is a man who knows how to appreciate a fine pickup.
    “That does sound a little funny, but still, Jason is way over twenty-one and he has a reputation for . . .”(Drilling anything that stands still,I thought.) “. . . being real popular with the ladies,” Bud concluded carefully. “I bet he’s all shacked up with someone new, and he’ll be real sorry to have caused you any worry. You call me back if you haven’t heard from him by tomorrow afternoon, you hear?”
    “Right,” I said in my most frozen voice.
    “Now, Sookie, don’t you go getting all mad at me, I’m just telling you what any lawman would tell you,” he said.
    I thought,Any lawman with lead in his butt.But I didn’t say it out loud. Bud was what I had to work with, and I had to stay on his good side, as much as possible.
    I muttered something that was vaguely polite and got off the phone. After reporting back to Catfish, I decided my only course of action was to go to Shreveport. I started to call Arlene, but I remembered she’d have the kids at home since it was still the school holiday. I thought of calling Sam, but I figured he might feel like he ought to do something, and I couldn’t figure out what that would be. I just wanted to share my worries with someone. I knew that wasn’t right. No one could help me, but me. Having made up my mind to be brave and independent, I almost phoned Alcide Herveaux, who is a well-to-do and hardworking guy based in Shreveport. Alcide’s dad runs a surveying firm that contracts for jobs in three states, and Alcide travels a lot among the various offices. I’d mentioned him the night before to Eric; Eric had sent Alcide to Jackson with me. But Alcide and I had some man-woman issues that were still unresolved, and it would be cheating to call him when I only wanted help he couldn’t give. At least, that was how I felt.
    I was scared to leave the house in case there might be news of Jason, but since the sheriff wasn’t looking for him, I hardly thought there would be any word soon.
    Before I left, I made sure I’d arranged the closet in the smaller bedroom so that it looked natural. It would be a little harder for Eric to get out when the sun went down, but it wouldn’t be extremely difficult. Leaving him a note would be a dead giveaway if someone broke in, and he was too smart to answer the phone if I called just after dark had fallen. But he was so discombobulated by his amnesia, he might be scared to wake all by himself with no explanation of my absence, I thought.
    I had a brainwave. Grabbing a little square piece of paper from last year’s Word of the Day calendar (”enthrallment”), I wrote:Jason, if you should happen to drop by, call me! I am very worried about you. No one knows where you are. I’ll be back this afternoon or evening. I’m going to drop by your house, and then I’ll check to see if you went to Shreveport. Then, back here. Love, Sookie.I got some tape and stuck the note to the refrigerator, just where a sister might expect her brother to head if he stopped by.
    There. Eric was plenty smart enough to read between the lines. And yet every word of it was feasible, so if anyone did break in to search the house, they’d think I was taking a smart precaution.
    But still, I was frightened of leaving the sleeping Eric so vulnerable. What if the witches came looking?
    But why should they?
    If they could have tracked Eric, they’d have been here by now, right? At least, that was the way I was reasoning. I thought of calling someone like Terry Bellefleur, who was plenty tough, to come sit in my house-I could use waiting on a call about Jason as my pretext-but it wasn’t right to endanger anyone else in Eric’s defense.
    I called all the