According to the newspaper, the debate raged from the people in the streets (including some who weren’t simply people) to members of Congress, from military personnel to firefighters, from law experts to constitutional scholars.

Instead of thinking globally or nationally, I tried to evaluate the crowd at Merlotte’s since the announcement. Had revenue fallen off? Yes, there’d been a slight decrease at first, right after the bar patrons had watched Sam change into a dog and Tray become a wolf, but then people had started drinking as much as they had formerly.

So was this a created crisis, a nothing issue?

Not as much as I would have liked, I decided, having read a few more articles.

Some people really hated the idea that individuals they’d known all their lives had another side, a mysterious life unbeknownst (isn’t that a great word? It had been on my Word of the Day calendar the week before) to the general public. That was the impression I’d gotten before, and it seemed that still held true. No one was budging on that position; the Weres got angrier, and the public got more frightened. At least a very vocal part of the public.

There had been demonstrations and riots in Redding, California, and Lansing, Michigan. I wondered if there were going to be riots here or in Shreveport. I found that hard to believe and painful to picture. I looked through the kitchen window at the gathering dusk, as if I expected to see a crowd of villagers with torches marching to Merlotte’s.

It was a curiously empty evening. There wasn’t much to clean up after I’d eaten, my laundry was up to date, and there was nothing on television I wanted to watch. I checked my e-mail; no message from Judith Vardamon.

There was a message from Alcide. “Sookie, we’ve set the pack meeting for Monday night at eight at my house. We’ve been trying to find a shaman for the judging. I’ll see you and Jason then.” It had been nearly a week since we’d found Basim’s body in the woods, and this was the first I’d heard. The pack’s “day or two” had stretched into six. And that meant it had been a very long time since I’d heard from Eric.

I called Jason again and left voice mail on his cell phone. I tried not to worry about the pack meeting, but every time I’d been with the whole pack, something violent had happened.

I thought again about the dead man in the grave in the clearing. Who had put him there? Presumably, the killer had wanted Basim’s silence, but the body hadn’t been planted on my land by mistake.