I turned to my boss. “Sam, he came to my house the other day. Lattesta. He told me that someone close to me, one of the great relatives”—I didn’t want to get more specific in front of Antoine—“had fixed it so he had to back off.”

“That explains why he was so mad,” Antoine said, and his face hardened. “That explains a lot.”

“What did he tell you to do?” Sam asked.

“Lattesta said the car theft thing was forgotten as long as I kept an eye on Sam and any other people who weren’t all the way human who came into the bar. He said he couldn’t touch Sookie now, and he was mighty pissed.”

Sam looked at me, a question on his face.

“He’s sincere,” I said.

“Thank you, Sookie,” Antoine said. He looked abjectly miserable.

“Okay,” Sam said, after looking at Antoine for a few more seconds. “You still have a job.”

“No . . . conditions?” Antoine was looking at Sam unbelievingly. “He expects me to keep watching you.”

“Not a condition, but a warning. If you tell him one thing more besides the fact that I’m here and running this business, you’re outta here, and if I can think of something else to do to you, I will.”

Antoine seemed weak with relief. “I’ll do my best for you, Sam,” he said. “Tell the truth, I’m glad it all came out. It’s been sitting heavy on my conscience.”

“There’ll be a backlash,” I said when Sam and I were alone.

“I know. Lattesta will come down on him hard, and Antoine will be tempted to make something up to tell him.”

“I think Antoine is a good guy. I hope I’m not wrong.” I’d been wrong about people before. In major ways.

“Yeah, I hope he lives up to our expectations.” Sam smiled at me suddenly. He has a great smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s good to have faith in people sometimes, give them another chance. And we’ll both keep our eyes on him.”

I nodded. “Okay. Well, I better get home.” I wanted to check my cell phone for messages and my landline, too. And my computer. I was dying for someone to reach out and touch me.

“Is something the matter?” Sam asked. He reached out to give me a tentative pat on the shoulder. “Anything I can do?”

“You’re the greatest,” I said. “But I’m just trying to get through a bad situation.”

“Eric’s out of touch?” he said, proving that Sam is one shrewd guesser.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “And he’s got . . . relatives in town. I don’t know what the hell’s going on.” The word “relatives” jogged my brain. “How are things going in your family, Sam?”