These were guys I could have passed dozens of times when I’d been shopping in Clarice. I might have played softball against their sisters or wives. I might have served them drinks at Merlotte’s. What were they doing trying to kidnap me? “I guess they could have taken me up to Clarice through the woods, on the four-wheelers,” I said out loud. “But what would they have done with me then? I thought one of them . . . Through his thoughts I caught a glimpse of an idea about a car trunk.” It had only been fleeting, but I shuddered. I’d been in a car trunk before, and it hadn’t ended well for me. It was a memory I blocked out resolutely.

Possibly Eric was thinking about the same event because he glanced out the window toward Bill’s house. “Who do you think sent them, Sookie?” he asked, and he made a huge effort to keep his voice calm and patient.

“I sure can’t question them to find out,” I muttered, and Pam laughed.

I gathered my thoughts, such as they were. The fog of my two-hour nap had finally lifted, and I tried to make some sense out of the evening’s strange occurrences. “If Kelvin and Hod had been from Shreveport, I’d think that Sandra Pelt had hired them after she escaped from the hospital,” I said. “She doesn’t mind using up the lives of others, not a bit. I’m sure she hired the guys who came to the bar last Saturday. And I’m also sure she’s the one who threw the firebomb at Merlotte’s before that.”

“We’ve had eyes looking for her in Shreveport, but no one’s spotted her,” Eric said.

“So this Sandra’s goal,” Pam said, pulling her straight pale hair behind her shoulders to braid it, “is to destroy you, your place of work, and anything else that gets in her way.”

“That sounds about right. But evidently she’s not behind this. I have too many enemies.”

“Charming,” Pam said.

“How’s your friend?” I asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before.”

Pam gave me a straight look. “She’s going to pass soon,” she said. “I’m running out of options, and I’m running out of hope that the process can be legal.”

Eric’s cell phone rang, and he got up to walk into the hall to take it. “Yes?” he said curtly. Then his voice changed. “Your Majesty,” he said, and he walked quickly into the living room so I couldn’t hear.

I wouldn’t have thought so much about it if I hadn’t seen Pam’s face. She was looking at me, and her expression was clearly one of . . . pity.

“What?” I said, the hair on the back of my neck rising. “What’s up? If he said ‘Your Majesty,’ that’s Felipe calling, huh? That should be good . . . right?”