Dead Ever After Re-write (Sookie Stackhouse and Eric Northman)

Chapter 2

I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter. I want to thank everybody who took the time to read the story and for the reviews. I am definitely enjoying this and I hope you're enjoying it too. :)  

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own the story or the characters. They belong to the author Charlaine Harris. I am just borrowing them for fun. If you have any questions or comments feel free to do so. I would like to know if you're enjoying the story.

Chapter 2  

Cara Ambroselli called me first thing Monday morning, which was not a great way to start the week. "I need you to come to the station so I can ask a few more questions," she said, and she sounded so brisk and awake that I could easily dislike her.  

"I've told you everything I know," I said, trying to sound alert.  

"We're going over everything again," she said. "I know you're as anxious as we all are to find out who caused this poor woman's death."  

There was only one possible response. "I'll be there in a couple of hours," I said, trying not to sound sullen. "I'll have to ask my boss if I can be late to work."  

That really wasn't going to be an issue since I was scheduled to work the later shift, but I was grumpy enough to drag my heels. I did call Jason to tell him where I was going, because I think someone always needs to know where you are if you're going into a police station.  

"That's no good, Sis," he said. "You need a lawyer?"  

"No, but I'm taking a number with me just in case," I said. I looked at the front of the refrigerator until I spotted the "Osiecki and Hilburn" business card. "Jason maybe we can have dinner together soon?" I asked him hoping that he would say yes. Jason has grown a lot and maybe he could give me some advice about Eric.  

"Sure sis. Let me know when it's good with your working schedule. Can I bring Michelle?" he asked me and I could feel his anxiety building up.  

"How about this time we make it for only you and me, and next time we can plan it with her."  

He was silent for a few seconds, but eventually agreed. There was no way I could talk about Eric in front of Michelle. After a few pleasantries and a promised dinner date we hanged up. I made sure my cell phone was charged. Just to cover all kinds of crises, I put the cluviel dor into my purse.  

I drove to Shreveport mindlessly. My mind was definitely on Eric, Felipe, and this woman that got killed. I hadn't had anything to do with the death of Kym Rowe, but I'd been involved in sufficient bad stuff to make me nervous when I came under official scrutiny. 

Police stations are not happy places at the best of times. If you're a telepath with a guilty conscience, this unhappiness is just about doubled. I was so nervous that I was having a hard time keeping my telepathy under control. I could read everybody's mind here even though I really didn't want to; from guilty ones to accomplice to frustrated parents whose son got arrested for rape.  

It was a positive treat to see T-Rex come out of a door, apparently leaving the building. He glanced my way, kept moving, but did a double take. After a short conversation, I was ready to get this over with.  

Cara Ambroselli was a little dynamo. She asked me the same questions she'd asked me Saturday night, and I answered them the same way. She asked me a few new questions. "How long have you been dating Eric?" (He was no longer Mr. Northman, I noticed.) "Did you ever work in a strip club?" (That was an easy one.) "What about the men you live with?"  

"What about them?"  

"Doesn't Claude Crane own a strip club?"  

"Yeah," I said warily. "He does."