As I watched, a woman I vaguely recognized came out of the back of the trailer onto the little deck. Her name was Helen Ellis, and she’d worked at Merlotte’s about four years before. Though Helen was competent and so pretty she’d drawn the men in like flies, Sam had had to fire her for repeated lateness. Helen had been volcanically upset. Lisa and Coby followed Helen onto the deck. Arlene was framed in the doorway. She was wearing a leopard print top over brown stretch pants.

The kids looked so much older than the last time I’d seen them! They looked reluctant and a little unhappy, especially Coby. Helen smiled at them encouragingly and turned back to Arlene to say, “Just let me know when it’s over!” There was a pause while Helen seemed to struggle with how to phrase something she didn’t want the kids to understand. “She’s only getting what she deserves.” I could see Helen only in profile, but her cheerful smile made my stomach heave. I swallowed hard.

“Okay, Helen. I’ll call you when you can bring ’em back,” Arlene said. There was a man standing behind her. He was too far back in the interior for me to identify with certainty, but I thought he was the man I’d hit on the head with a tray a couple of months back, the man who’d been so ugly to Pam and Amelia. He was one of Arlene’s new buddies.

Helen and the kids drove off in the Skylark.

Arlene had closed the back door against the chill of the day. I shut my eyes and located her inside the trailer. I found there were two men in there with her. What were they thinking about? I was a little far, but I stretched out with my extra sense.

They were thinking about doing awful things to me.

I crouched under a bare mimosa, feeling as bleak and miserable as I’ve ever felt. Granted, I’d known for some time that Arlene wasn’t truly a good person or even a faithful person. Granted, I’d heard her rant and rave about the eradication of the supernaturals of the world. Granted, I’d come to realize that she’d slipped into regarding me as one of them. But I’d never let myself believe that whatever affection she’d ever felt for me had slipped away entirely, transmuted by the Fellowship’s policy of hate.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I called Andy Bellefleur.

“Bellefleur,” he said briskly.

We were hardly buddies, but I sure was glad to hear his voice.