“Do you mean your great-uncle and his elf buddy, or do you mean the heads, or do you mean the bodies?” Eric asked.

“Both. All three.” I got myself some ice and poured some Diet Coke over it. People had told me for years that carbonated drinks settled your stomach. I was hoping they were right.

“Dermot and Bellenos have left for Monroe. Dermot got to anoint his wound with the blood of his enemies, which is a tradition among the fae. Bellenos, of course, got to take the heads off, which is an elf tradition. They were both very happy in consequence.”

“I’m glad for them,” I said automatically, and thought, What the hell am I saying? “I should tell Bill. I wonder if they found the car?”

“They found four-wheelers,” Pam said. “I think they had an excellent time driving them.” Pam looked envious.

I was almost able to smile, imagining that. “So, the bodies?”

“They’ve been dealt with,” Eric said. “Though I think the two of them took the heads back to Monroe to show the other fae. But they’ll destroy them there.”

“Oh,” Pam said suddenly, and leaped up. “Dermot left their papers.” She returned with two wet wallets and some odds and ends heaped in her hands. I spread a kitchen towel out on the table, and she dumped the items onto it. I tried not to notice the bloodstains on the bits of paper. I opened the leather billfold first and extracted a driver’s license. “Hod Mayfield,” I said. “From Clarice. He was twenty-four.” I pulled out a picture of a woman, presumably the Marge they’d been talking about. She was definitely queen-sized, and she was wearing her dark hair up in a teased style that was what you might call dated. Her smile was open and sweet.

No pictures of children, thank God.

A hunter’s license, a few receipts, an insurance card. “That means he had a regular job,” I said to the vampires, who never needed hospitalization or life insurance. And Hod had three hundred dollars.

“Gosh,” I said. “That seems like a lot.” All crisp twenties, too.

“Some of our employees don’t have a checking account,” Pam said. “They cash their paychecks every time and live on a cash basis.”

“Yeah, I know people who do that, too.” Terry Bellefleur, for example, who thought banks were run by a Communist cartel. “But this money is all twenties, right from the machine. Might be a payoff.”

Kelvin turned out to be a Mayfield, too. Cousin, brother? Kelvin was also from Clarice. He was older, twenty-seven. His billfold did contain pictures of children, three of them. Crap. Without comment, I laid the school shots out with the other items. Kelvin also had a condom, a free drink card for Vic’s Redneck Roadhouse, and a card for an auto body shop. A few worn dollar bills, and the same crisp three hundred that Hod had had.