The Sookie Stackhouse Companion (8 page)

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Authors: Charlaine Harris

BOOK: The Sookie Stackhouse Companion
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“Have you thought about how Quinn and Togo and Trish can be useful? I’ve got Quinn’s cell phone number. They’re probably at the pound . . . cleaning up. Of course, I’ll help however I can.” I handed Sam the scrap of paper with Quinn’s number.
“What I’m going to ask them to do,” Sam said, “is stand guard. When we get to the church for the rehearsal, I hope you four will set up a perimeter outside. That way we’ll have plenty of warning if Collins and his buddies try something. The time of the rehearsal isn’t public knowledge, not like the wedding time. That was in the paper because the whole community was invited.”
That was a common practice in Bon Temps, too, so I wasn’t surprised. Many engagement announcements included the particulars of the marriage ceremony with the invitation, “All friends of the couple are welcome.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be a lookout.” I’d feel better standing watch with a shotgun in my hands, but I figured that if I had the Benelli, (a) I might actually shoot someone, and (b) I might get arrested. I didn’t know Texas gun laws, and there was no telling how stringently they’d be enforced on a local level.
“You look too pretty to be standing out in the churchyard. I’m sorry,” Sam said, shaking his head. “This isn’t how I thought we’d be spending this time.”
“Sam, it’s not your fault. I’m glad I can help out. I only regret it’s necessary.” There was a chance that planting the sign and killing the dogs was the end of the protest against the marriage. But that was a remote possibility.
“I’m sorry you had to see the dogs; I guess . . . Well, that’s just sad. No one should have to see something like that.” Sam stared down at his feet.
“I agree,” I said, my voice as steady as I could manage.
From the flurry of voices in the living room, I could tell that Doke and Mindy and the kids had arrived. Sam and I went out to join them. We told them all the news. After some quiet discussion, they decided they’d stay at the house with the kids until it was time for the wedding. Mindy said, “All we’d do at the rehearsal is find out when to come down the aisle and sit in a pew, and I think Doke and I can manage that, right?” They were worried about Mason and Bonnie, and I didn’t blame them.
When it was time to leave the house, I walked out with the others to find that a car was parked in front that didn’t belong to anyone in the family.
“Hey,” called a short brunette who was leaning on the hood of the Saturn. She straightened and came forward to hug Sam.
“Hey, yourself,” he said, and hugged her back.
“That’s Sister Mendoza,” Craig explained. “They’ve been friends a long time.” Craig was afraid I’d get mad at Sam touching another woman.
“She’s a nun?”
“What?” Craig stared for a second. “Oh. Oh, no! Sister is her name.” He laughed. “She and Sam have been friends ever since we moved here. She’s a deputy at the sheriff’s department.”
“Why is she here?”
“I have no idea. Hey, Sister! Did you come because of that parking ticket I forgot to pay?”
“Hell, no,” Sister Mendoza said, letting go of Sam. “I come here to be a watchman. Me and Rafe.” A short, thick-bodied man got out of the car. He was as pale-haired as Sister was brunette.
“Rafe played football with Sam,” Craig told me, but I think I would have figured it out by the way they were thumping each other.
Sam beckoned me over. “Sookie, these are some old friends of mine, Sister and Rafe,” he said. “You two, you be nice to this woman.” Sam was in no doubt that they would be. His brain was practically rolling with pleasure at seeing his old buddies.
The two friends gave me a quick once-over, seemed okay with what they saw. Rafe gave Sam a fist to the shoulder. “She’s way too pretty for you, you old dog,” Rafe said, and they laughed together.
“I’m taking the backyard,” Sister said, and she left.
Rafe gave Sam a sharp nod. “You-all go to the church and don’t worry about things here,” he said. “We got your back. You got someone coming to the church?”
Sam said, “We got the church covered.” He paused. “You two aren’t in uniform,” he said carefully.
“Well, we’re off duty,” Rafe said. He shrugged. “You know how it is, Sam.”
Sam looked pretty grim. “I’m getting the picture,” he said.
I felt much better about the safety of both the kids and the house itself as Sam and I got into his truck to drive behind Craig and his mom to the church.
It wasn’t a long drive. Wright was no bigger than Bon Temps. Drier, dustier, browner—but I didn’t imagine it was essentially different. We’d had trouble with demonstrators in front of the bar, but they’d gotten tired of getting hustled out of the parking lot, and they’d gone back to writing letters. Could my fellow townspeople do what someone had done here at the dog pound?
But there wasn’t time to worry about that because we were two blocks west of Main Street at the corner of Mesquite (the north–south street) and St. Francis (the east–west). Gethsemane Baptist Church was a faux-adobe structure with a red-tiled roof and a squat bell tower. I could hear the organist practicing inside. The sound was strangely peaceful.
There was parking at the front and at the left side, between the church and the parsonage. The fellowship hall was directly behind the church, connected by the umbilical cord of a covered walkway. The yard was full of thin grass, though what grew there was neatly mown.
A man who could only be the pastor was walking over from the parsonage, which looked like a smaller version of the church. He was middle-aged with a big belly and graying black hair. From my first dip into his head, I concluded that Bart Arrowsmith was a genial man who was not equipped to handle a situation this volatile. I knew that by now word must have spread all over Wright about what had happened, and I knew this situation had spooked Brother Arrowsmith.
This was a day when I had to know the capabilities and weaknesses of the people around me, no matter how invasive it felt to enter their thoughts. What I saw in Brother Arrowsmith’s head gave me the sad suspicion that he was not going to be the tower of strength we needed today. He was a conflicted man who couldn’t decide what God wanted him to do when he was faced with a situation he couldn’t interpret scripturally.
He was troubled on this day that should be so happy. And that made him feel even worse. He liked Craig and Deidra. He had always liked Bernie. For that matter, he liked Sam, but when he looked at Sam, he now saw something subhuman.
I took a deep breath and got out of Bart Arrowsmith’s head. It wasn’t a healthy, happy place to be.
A light breeze had been stirring the leaves on the short trees. Now it gained power. It hadn’t rained in Wright for a while, and my cheeks felt the sting of the sandy particles picked up by the wind. I didn’t know who’d appointed me Grim Nemesis, but I was in a weird state of apprehension.
I intercepted the minister as he reached the steps. I introduced myself. After Bart Arrowsmith shook my hand and asked me if Craig was already inside, I told him, “You need to take a stand on this.”
“What?” he said. He peered through his wire rims at me.
“You know what’s happening here is wrong. You know this is hate, and you know God doesn’t want hatred to happen here.”
See? Like I was the voice of God. But I felt
compelled
.
Something shifted around behind Bart Arrowsmith’s eyes. “Yes, I hear you,” he said. He sighed. “Yes.” He turned to go into the church.
Next I’d be nailing a list of demands to the door.
Trish, Quinn, and Togo drifted across the dry yard. Their feet hardly made a sound on the crisp grass. I hadn’t seen them approach, but they all looked the worse for the wear. Quinn and Togo had been digging.
“Quinn will take the front,” Trish said, sounding calm and authoritative though her eyes were red from weeping. “Togo, honey, you take the rear. Sookie and I will take the right side.” I hoped we could take it for granted that no one was going to attack from the parsonage on the left.
I nodded, then exchanged a glance with Quinn as I started moving east into position.
Deidra and her parents arrived in one car, her sisters and her brothers in another. Mrs. Lisle was almost as pretty as Deidra, but with shorter hair and a few more pounds. Mr. Lisle looked exactly like a man who worked in a hardware store: capable, skilled, and unimaginative. The whole family was obviously very anxious.
Mr. Lisle wanted to ask us what we were doing standing around the churchyard, but his nerve failed him. So he and Mrs. Lisle, Deidra and her sisters, and Deidra’s oldest brother scurried across the yard to the open doors of the church. Deidra’s other brother, the one in the service, took up a stand beside me. Since I was sure he was armed, I was glad to see him. He nodded at my companion. “Miss Trish,” he said politely. She patted him on the shoulder. “Jared Lisle,” he said to me.
“Sookie Stackhouse. I came with Sam.”
And then we watched.
A pair of girls arrived and scooted up the sidewalk and into the church, casting a glance at Jared as they hurried. He smiled and raised his hand in greeting.
“They’re singing,” he explained. “I’m kind of surprised they showed up.” Sam and Deidra’s oldest brother were Craig’s groomsmen, so the wedding party was complete.
Through the open church windows, I listened to “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” as the organist ran through some opening music. I could faintly hear Brother Arrowsmith giving instructions to the wedding party.
A car or two drove by, with nothing more than a curious glance from the drivers. I fidgeted, unable to find a casual way to be just hanging around the side of the church. I felt both conspicuous and awkward.
Jared didn’t have that problem. Since he was in the army, he was used to spending time being on alert. He didn’t talk to me or Trish for a long time, but I figured that was okay because he had something more important to think about.
As for me, I was wondering what on earth I would do if there was some kind of attack. Read their thoughts really, really quickly?
That
wouldn’t be much help. I missed my shotgun more than ever. Could I shoot another human being if he attacked the church or tried to disrupt Sam’s brother’s wedding?
Yes, I thought I could. Hell, yes. My back stiffened.
It’s both interesting and unpleasant to get a big revelation about your own character, especially at a moment when you can’t do a damn thing about it. I couldn’t abandon my post, run to the nearest gun store to make a purchase, don some black leather and high-heeled boots, and reinvent myself as a kick-ass heroine. A gun would make me
feel
tough, but it wouldn’t make me
be
tough. The desire to shoot someone wouldn’t make me an accurate shot with a handgun. Though if I had my shotgun, it would be hard to miss.
I had a hundred scattered ideas in the space of a few seconds. And those few seconds multiplied as the assorted band I’d joined kept watch over nothing. Only Jared and Trish showed no signs of impatience or restlessness, but they did relax enough to exchange a few comments. I gathered that Trish had taught Jared in high school—English and composition. She was enjoying her early retirement. She’d been doing a lot of volunteer work and selling her handmade jewelry. Jared told her about his posting in Afghanistan. He was ready to go.
Then we heard the sounds of several engines approaching the turnoff to the church from the main drag. We all stiffened, and our eyes went to the stop sign at the end of the street.
Three motorcycles turned onto the street, motors rumbling. And there was a Suburban right behind them, full of people.
We formed a line across the sidewalk without saying a word.
The engines were turned off, and there was silence. The only sound in the neighborhood was the wind through the branches of the live oak in the front yard and the organ music wafting from the church windows.
I tried to develop a plan, and finally I decided the only way I could stop someone from entering the church was by tackling him. The three people astride cycles swung off and removed their helmets. They were all women. Ha! That was unexpected. And I realized after just a moment that they were all shifters, something Togo and Trish had picked up on in a fraction of a second.
“What are you doing here, sisters?” Togo said, his wonderful accent and deep voice fascinating.
The people in the Suburban began to climb out. Two of them were male; two were women. They were also two-natured.
“Hey, buddy,” called the man who’d been driving. “We heard about the problem here, from the Web. We’ve come to be of service.”
There was a long moment of thoughtful silence. Then Trish stepped forward. She was holding back her wind-tossed gray curls with both hands. She introduced herself. “I’m a friend of the groom’s family. We’re here to keep strangers out of the church. You know there’ve already been a couple of incidents today. All the dogs in the pound were killed to protest this wedding.”
I was a little unnerved to hear the newcomers growl. Most two-natured didn’t let themselves express their animal sides when they were in public. Then I realized that Deidra’s brother and I were the only humans around. We were in the minority.

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