I didn’t hear anything no matter how hard I listened. I got tired of waiting—I felt like I’d crouched on the bare ground forever—and I hauled myself out of the hatch with a lot less grace and a lot more noise than Bill. I turned off the lights Hod and Kelvin had left on, at least in part because the light made me feel about twice as naked. I peered cautiously out of a window in the dining room. In the dark it was hard to be sure, but I thought the trees weren’t tossing in the wind anymore. The rain continued unabated. I saw lightning off to the north. I didn’t see kidnappers or bodies or anything that didn’t belong in the soaked landscape.

Bill didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to tell me what was happening. The old dining table was covered with a sort of shawl with fringe, and I pulled it off the table and wrapped myself in it. I hoped it wasn’t some kind of Compton heirloom. It had holes in it and a large flowery pattern, so I wasn’t too terribly concerned.

“Sookie,” Bill said at my back, and I shrieked and jumped.

“Would you please not do that?” I said. “I’ve had enough bad surprises today.”

“Sorry,” he said. He had a kitchen towel in his hand and he was rubbing his hair. “I came in through the back door.” He was still naked, but I felt ridiculous making any kind of thing out of it. I’d seen Bill naked many times before. He was looking me up and down, a sort of puzzled expression on his face. “Sookie, are you wearing my Aunt Edwina’s Spanish shawl?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said. “Really, Bill. It was there, and I was cold and damp and feeling like I wanted to be covered. I do apologize.” I thought of unwrapping it and handing it over, but I reconsidered in the same moment.

“Looks better on you than it does on the table,” he said. “Besides, it has holes. Are you ready to go over to your house to find out what’s happened to your great-uncle? And where are your clothes? Surely . . . Did those men take them off? Have they . . . Are you harmed?”

“No, no,” I said hastily. “I told you I had to dump my clothes so they wouldn’t see the drips. They’re out front behind the bushes. I couldn’t leave them in sight, of course.”

“Right,” Bill said. He looked very thoughtful. “If I didn’t know you better, I would think—and pardon me if I offend—that you’d concocted this whole scenario to excuse yourself for wanting to bed me again.”