Read Online Sookie 04 Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlaine Harris
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out of the truck to stand with other men as they all stared into big holes in or near the road.
Catfish was knocked off balance by my frankness. “Sookie, you shouldn’t say that kind of thing,” he said, quite shocked at a single woman admitting she knew her brother wasn’t a virgin.
“Are you telling me that Jason hasn’t shown up at work? And you’ve called his house?”
“Yes and yes,” said Catfish, who in most respects was no fool. “I even sent Dago out to his place.” Dago (road crew members had to have nicknames) was Antonio Guglielmi, who had never been farther from Louisiana than Mississippi. I was pretty sure the same could be said for his parents, and possibly his grandparents, though there was rumor they’d once been to Branson to take in the shows.
“Was his truck out there?” I was beginning to have that cold creeping feeling.
“Yes,” Catfish said. “It was parked in front of his house, keys inside. Door hanging open.”
“The truck door or the house door?”
“What?”
“Hanging open. Which door?”
“Oh, the truck.”
“This is bad, Catfish,” I said. I was tingling all over with alarm.
“When you seen him last?”
“Just last night. He was over here visiting with me, and he left about . . . oh, let’s see . . . it must have been nine-thirty or ten.”
“He have anybody with him?”
“No.” He hadn’t brought anybody with him, so that was pretty much the truth.
“You think I oughta call the sheriff?” Catfish asked.
I ran a hand over my face. I wasn’t ready for that yet, no matter how off the situation seemed. “Let’s give it another hour,” I suggested. “If he hasn’t dragged into work in an hour, you let me know. If he does come in, you make him call me. I guess it’s me ought to tell the sheriff, if it comes to that.”
I hung up after Catfish had repeated everything he’d said several times, just because he hated to hang up and go back to worrying. No, I can’t read minds over the telephone line, but I could read it in his voice. I’ve known Catfish Hennessey for many years. He was a buddy of my father’s.
I carried the cordless phone into the bathroom with me while I took a shower to wake up. I didn’t wash my hair, just in case I had to go outside right away. I got dressed, made some coffee, and braided my hair in one long braid. All the time while I performed these tasks, I was thinking, which is something that’s hard for me to do when I’m sitting still.
I came up with these scenarios.
One. (This was my favorite.) Somewhere between my house and his house, my brother had met up with a woman and fallen in love so instantly and completely that he had abandoned his habit of years and forgotten all about work. At this moment, they were in a bed somewhere, having great sex.
Two. The witches, or whatever the hell they were, had somehow found out that Jason knew where Eric was, and they’d abducted him to force the information from him. (I made a mental note to learn more about witches.) How long could Jason keep the secret of Eric’s location? My brother had lots of attitude, but he actually is a brave man-or maybe stubborn is a little more accurate. He wouldn’t talk easily. Maybe a witch could spell him into talking? If the witches had him, he might be dead already, since they’d had him for hours. And if he’d talked, I was in danger and Eric was doomed. They could be coming at any minute, since witches are not bound by darkness. Eric was dead for the day, defenseless. This was definitely the worst-case scenario.
Three. Jason had returned to Shreveport with Pam and Chow. Maybe they’d decided to pay him some up-front money, or maybe Jason just wanted to visit Fangtasia because it was a popular nightspot. Once there, he could have been seduced by some vamp girl and stayed up all night with her, since Jason was like Eric in that women really, really took a shine to him. If she’d taken a little too much blood, Jason could be
Catfish was knocked off balance by my frankness. “Sookie, you shouldn’t say that kind of thing,” he said, quite shocked at a single woman admitting she knew her brother wasn’t a virgin.
“Are you telling me that Jason hasn’t shown up at work? And you’ve called his house?”
“Yes and yes,” said Catfish, who in most respects was no fool. “I even sent Dago out to his place.” Dago (road crew members had to have nicknames) was Antonio Guglielmi, who had never been farther from Louisiana than Mississippi. I was pretty sure the same could be said for his parents, and possibly his grandparents, though there was rumor they’d once been to Branson to take in the shows.
“Was his truck out there?” I was beginning to have that cold creeping feeling.
“Yes,” Catfish said. “It was parked in front of his house, keys inside. Door hanging open.”
“The truck door or the house door?”
“What?”
“Hanging open. Which door?”
“Oh, the truck.”
“This is bad, Catfish,” I said. I was tingling all over with alarm.
“When you seen him last?”
“Just last night. He was over here visiting with me, and he left about . . . oh, let’s see . . . it must have been nine-thirty or ten.”
“He have anybody with him?”
“No.” He hadn’t brought anybody with him, so that was pretty much the truth.
“You think I oughta call the sheriff?” Catfish asked.
I ran a hand over my face. I wasn’t ready for that yet, no matter how off the situation seemed. “Let’s give it another hour,” I suggested. “If he hasn’t dragged into work in an hour, you let me know. If he does come in, you make him call me. I guess it’s me ought to tell the sheriff, if it comes to that.”
I hung up after Catfish had repeated everything he’d said several times, just because he hated to hang up and go back to worrying. No, I can’t read minds over the telephone line, but I could read it in his voice. I’ve known Catfish Hennessey for many years. He was a buddy of my father’s.
I carried the cordless phone into the bathroom with me while I took a shower to wake up. I didn’t wash my hair, just in case I had to go outside right away. I got dressed, made some coffee, and braided my hair in one long braid. All the time while I performed these tasks, I was thinking, which is something that’s hard for me to do when I’m sitting still.
I came up with these scenarios.
One. (This was my favorite.) Somewhere between my house and his house, my brother had met up with a woman and fallen in love so instantly and completely that he had abandoned his habit of years and forgotten all about work. At this moment, they were in a bed somewhere, having great sex.
Two. The witches, or whatever the hell they were, had somehow found out that Jason knew where Eric was, and they’d abducted him to force the information from him. (I made a mental note to learn more about witches.) How long could Jason keep the secret of Eric’s location? My brother had lots of attitude, but he actually is a brave man-or maybe stubborn is a little more accurate. He wouldn’t talk easily. Maybe a witch could spell him into talking? If the witches had him, he might be dead already, since they’d had him for hours. And if he’d talked, I was in danger and Eric was doomed. They could be coming at any minute, since witches are not bound by darkness. Eric was dead for the day, defenseless. This was definitely the worst-case scenario.
Three. Jason had returned to Shreveport with Pam and Chow. Maybe they’d decided to pay him some up-front money, or maybe Jason just wanted to visit Fangtasia because it was a popular nightspot. Once there, he could have been seduced by some vamp girl and stayed up all night with her, since Jason was like Eric in that women really, really took a shine to him. If she’d taken a little too much blood, Jason could be
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