Read Online Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online

put on my makeup and my summer work uniform—Merlotte’s T-shirt, black shorts, and New Balance walking shoes—and got in the car to drive to work. I felt much better now that I was following my normal routine. I was also very nervous as I parked on the graveled area behind the bar.
    I didn’t want to stand staring at Sam’s trailer, centered in its little yard at right angles to the bar. Sam might have been standing at a window, looking out. I averted my eyes and hurried in the employees’ entrance. Though I had my keys in my hand, I didn’t need them. Someone had gotten there before me. I went directly to my locker and opened it, wondering if I’d see Sam behind the bar, how he’d be, what he’d say. I stowed my purse and put on one of the aprons hanging from a hook. I was early. If Sam wanted to talk to me, there was time.
    But when I walked up front, the person behind the bar was Kennedy Keyes. I felt distinctly flattened. Not that there was anything wrong with Kennedy; I’d always liked her. Today she was as bright and shiny as a new penny. Her rich brown hair was glossy and hanging in loose curls across her shoulders, she was made up with great care, and her sleeveless pink tank fit very snugly, tucked into her linen slacks. (She had always insisted bartenders shouldn’t have to wear a uniform.)
    “Looking good, Kennedy,” I said, and she spun around, her phone to her ear.
    “I was talking to my honey. I didn’t hear you come in,” she said chidingly. “What have you been up to? You over ‘the flu’? I started to bring you a can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle.” Kennedy couldn’t cook and was proud of it, which would have shocked my grandmother, I can tell you. And she hadn’t believed I was sick for a moment.
    “I felt awful. But I’m a lot better now.” In fact, I was. I felt surprisingly glad to be back in Merlotte’s. I’d worked here a lot longer than I’d held any other job. And now I was Sam’s partner. The bar felt like home to me. I felt as though I’d been away a month. Everything looked just the same. Terry Bellefleur had come in real early to get everything sparkling clean, as usual. I began to take the chairs off the tables where he’d put them while he mopped. Moving swiftly, with the efficiency of long practice, I got the tables squared away and began rolling silverware into napkins.
    After a few minutes, I heard the employee entrance opening. I knew the cook had arrived because I heard him singing. Antoine had worked at Merlotte’s for months now, longer than many other short-order cooks had lasted. When things were slow (or simply when the spirit moved him), he sang. Since he had a wonderful deep voice, no one minded, least of all me. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if it were raining, so I thoroughly enjoyed his serenades.
    “Hey, Antoine,” I called.
    “Sookie!” he said, appearing in the service hatch. “Glad you back. You feeling better?”
    “Right as rain. How are your supplies holding out? Anything we need to talk about?”
    “If Sam don’t come back to work soon, we got to make a trip to Shreveport to the warehouse,” Antoine said. “I’ve got a list started. Sam still sick?”
    I borrowed a leaf from Bill’s book. I shrugged. “We’ve both had a bug,” I said. “Everything’ll be back to normal in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
    “That’ll be good.” He smiled and turned to get his kitchen ready. “Oh, a friend of yours come by yesterday.”
    “Yeah, I forgot,” Kennedy said. “She used to be a waitress here?”
    There were so many ex-waitresses that I’d take half an hour if I started trying to guess her name. I wasn’t interested enough to do that, at least not right then, when there was work to be done.
    Keeping the bar staffed was a constant issue. My brother’s best bud , Hoyt Fortenberry, was soon to marry a longtime Merlotte’s barmaid, Holly Cleary. Now that the wedding was close, Holly had cut back on her work