The phone rang while I was in the shower Friday morning. Since I had an answering machine, I ignored it. As I was reaching out for my towel with my eyes shut, I felt it being thrust into my hand. With a gasp, I opened my eyes to see Claude standing there in his altogether.

"Phone's for you," he said, handing me the portable phone from the kitchen. He left.

I put it to my ear automatically. "Hello?" I said weakly. I didn't know what to think about first: me seeing Claude naked, Claude seeing me naked, or the whole fact that we were related and naked in the same room.

"Sookie? You sound funny," said a faintly familiar male voice.

"Oh, I just got a surprise," I said. "I'm so sorry... . Who is this?"

He laughed, and it was a warm and friendly sound. "This is Remy Savoy, Hunter's dad," he said.

Remy had been married to my cousin Hadley, who was now dead. Their son, Hunter, and I had a connection, a connection that we needed to explore. I'd been meaning to call Remy to set up a playdate for me and Hunter, and I chided myself now for putting it off. "I hope you're calling to tell me that I can see Hunter this weekend?" I said. "I've got to work Sunday afternoon, but I have Saturday off. Tomorrow, that is."

"That's great! I was going to ask if I could bring him over this evening, and maybe he could spend the night."

That was a lot of time to spend with a kid I didn't know; more important, a kid who didn't know me. "Remy, do you have special plans or something?"

"Yeah. My dad's sister died yesterday, and they've set the funeral for tomorrow morning at ten. But the visitation is tonight. I hate to take Hunter to the visitation and the funeral ... especially considering, you know, his ... problem. It might be pretty hard on him. You know how it is... . I can't ever be sure what he'll say."

"I understand." And I did. A preschool telepath is tough to be around. My parents would have appreciated Remy's predicament. "How old is Hunter now?"

"Five, just had a birthday. I was worried about the party, but we got through that okay."

I took a deep breath. I'd told him I'd help out with Hunter's problem. "Okay, I can keep him overnight."

"Thanks. I mean, really thanks. I'll bring him over when I get off work today. That okay? We'll be there about five thirty?"

I would get off work between five and six, depending on my replacement being on time and how full my tables were. I gave Remy my cell number. "If I'm not home, call my cell. I'll be back here as soon as I can. What does he like to eat?"

We talked about Hunter's routine for a few minutes, and then I hung up. By then, I was dry, but my hair was hanging in damp rattails. After a few minutes with the blow-dryer, I set off to talk to Claude once I was securely dressed in my work clothes.

"Claude!" I yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes?" He sounded totally unconcerned.

"Come down here!"

He appeared at the head of the stairs, his hairbrush in his hand. "Yes, Cousin?"

"Claude, the answering machine would have picked up the phone call. Please don't come in my room without knocking, and especially don't come in my bathroom without knocking!" I would definitely employ the door lock from now on. I didn't think I'd ever used it before.

"Are you a prude?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"No!" But after a second, I said, "But maybe compared to you, yes! I like my privacy. I get to decide who sees me naked. Do you get my point?"

"Yes. Objectively speaking, you have beautiful points."

I thought the top of my head would pop off. "I didn't expect this when I told you that you could stay with me. You like men."

"Oh, yes, I definitely prefer men. But I can appreciate beauty. I have visited the other side of the fence."

"I probably wouldn't have let you stay here if I'd known that," I said.

Claude shrugged, as if to say, "Wasn't I smart to keep it from you, then?"

"Listen," I said, and then stopped, because I was rattled. No matter what the circumstances, seeing Claude naked ... Well, your first reaction wouldn't be rage, either. "I'm going to tell you a few things, and I want you to take me seriously."

He waited, brush in hand, looking only politely attentive.

"Number one. I have a boyfriend, and he's a vampire, and I'm not interested in cheating on him, and that includes seeing other guys naked ... in my bathroom," I tacked on hastily, thinking of twoeys of all sorts. "If you can't respect that, you need to leave, and you'll just have to cry all the way home. Number two. I'm having company tonight, a little kid I'm babysitting, and you better act appropriate around him. You picking up what I'm laying down?"

"No nudity, be nice to the human kid."

"Right."

"Is the child yours?"

"If he were mine, I'd be raising him, you can bet your money. He's Hadley's. She was my cousin, the daughter of my aunt Linda. She was the, ah, the girlfriend of Sophie-Anne. You know, the former queen? And she became a vampire, eventually. This little boy, Hunter, is the son Hadley had before all that happened to her. His dad's bringing him by." Was Claude related to Hadley? Yes, of course, and therefore to Hunter. I pointed that out.

"I like children," Claude told me. "I'll behave. And I'm sorry to have upset you." He gave a stab at sounding contrite.

"Funny, you don't look sorry. At all."

"I'm crying inside," he said, smiling a wicked smile.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," I said, turning away to complete my bathroom routine alone and unobserved.

I'd calmed down by the time I got to work. After all, I thought, Claude has probably seen a gazillion people naked in his time. Most supes didn't think nudity was any big deal. The fact that Claude and I were distantly related - my great-grandfather was his grandfather - wouldn't make any difference to him; in fact, it wouldn't make any difference to most of the supes. So, I told myself stoutly, no big deal. When I hit a slow time at work, I called Eric's cell and left a message to tell him I was expecting to babysit a child that night. "If you can come over, great, but I wanted you to know ahead of time that someone else will be here," I told the voice mail. Hunter would make a pretty effective chaperone. Then I thought about my new upstairs roomer. "Plus, I kind of forgot to tell you something the other night, and probably you aren't going to like it much. Also, I miss you." There was a beep. My message time was up. Well ... good. There was no telling what I would've said next.

The tracker, Heidi, was supposed to arrive in Bon Temps tonight. It seemed like a year since Eric had decided to send her over to check my land. I felt a little concerned when I thought of her arrival. Would Remy think Hunter attending the funeral was so bad, if he knew who else was dropping by my house? Was I being irresponsible? Was I putting the child at risk?

No, it was paranoid to think so. Heidi was coming to scout around in my woods.

I had thrown off my niggling worry by the time I was preparing to leave Merlotte's. Kennedy had arrived to work for Sam again because he'd made plans to take the Were girl, Jannalynn, to the casinos in Shreveport and out to dinner. I hoped she was real good to Sam, because he deserved it.

Kennedy was contorting herself in front of the mirror behind the bar, trying to discern a weight loss. I looked down at my own thighs. Jannalynn was really, really slim. In fact, I'd call her skinny. God had been generous with me in the bosom department, but Jannalynn was the possessor of little apricotlike boobs she showed off by wearing bustiers and tank tops with no bra. She gave herself some attitude (and altitude) by wearing fantastic footwear. I was wearing Keds. I sighed.

"Have a nice night!" Kennedy told me brightly, and I straightened my shoulders, smiled, and wiggled my fingers good-bye. Most people thought Kennedy's big smile and good manners had to be put on. But I knew Kennedy was sincere. She'd been trained by her pageant-queen mom to keep a smile on her face and a good word on her lips. I had to hand it to her; Danny Prideaux didn't faze Kennedy at all, and I felt like he'd make most girls pretty nervous. Danny, who'd been brought up to expect the world to beat him down so he better throw the first punch, lifted a finger to me to second Kennedy's farewell. He had a Coke in front of him, because Danny didn't drink on duty. He seemed content to play Mario Kart on his Nintendo DS, or to simply sit at the bar and watch Kennedy work.

On the other hand, lots of men would be nervous about working with Kennedy since she'd served time for manslaughter. Some women would be, too. But I had no problem with her. I was glad Sam had stepped up for her. It's not that I approve of murder - but some people just beg to be killed, don't they? After all I'd been through, I was forced to simply admit to myself that I felt that way.

I got home about five minutes before Remy arrived with Hunter. I'd had just enough time to pull off my work clothes, toss them in the hamper, and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before Remy knocked at the front door.

I looked through the peephole before I opened the door, on the theory that it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Hey, Remy!" I said. He was in his early thirties, a quietly good-looking man with thick light brown hair. He was wearing clothes suitable for an evening visitation at a funeral home: khakis, a white-and-brown-striped broadcloth shirt, polished loafers. He'd looked more comfortable in the flannel and jeans he'd been wearing the first time I'd met him. I looked down at his son. Hunter had grown since I'd seen him last. He had dark hair and eyes like his mother, Hadley, but it was too early to say who he'd favor when he grew up.

I squatted down and said, Hi, Hunter. I didn't say anything out loud, but I smiled at him.

He'd almost forgotten. His face lit up. Aunt Sookie! he said. Pleasure ran through his head, pleasure and excitement. "I have a new truck," he said out loud, and I laughed.

"You gonna show it to me? Come on in, you two, and let's get you settled."

"Thanks, Sookie," Remy said.

"Do I look like my mama, Dad?" Hunter asked.

"Why?" Remy was startled.

"That's what Aunt Sookie says."

Remy was used to little shocks like this by now, and he knew it would only get worse. "Yes, you look like your mom, and she was good-looking," Remy told him. "You're a lucky young man, Son."

"I don't want to look like a girl," Hunter said doubtfully.

You don't. "Not a bit," I said. "Hunter, your room is right here." I indicated the open doorway. "I used to sleep in this room when I was a kid," I said.

Hunter looked around, alert and cautious. But the low twin bed with its white bedspread and the old furniture and the worn rug by the bed were all homey and unthreatening. "Where will you be?" he asked.

"Right here, across the hall," I told him, opening the door to my room. "You just call out, and I'll come a-running. Or you can come climb in the bed with me, if you get scared in the night."

Remy stood, watching his son absorb all this. I didn't know how often the little boy had spent the night away from his dad; not too often, from the thoughts I was picking up from the boy's head.

"The bathroom's the next door down from your room, see?" I pointed in. He looked into the old-fashioned room with his mouth hanging open.

"I know it looks different from your bathroom at home," I said, answering his thoughts. "This is an old house, Hunter." The claw-foot tub and the black-and-white tiles were not what you saw in the rental houses and apartments Remy and Hunter had lived in since Katrina.

"What's upstairs?" Hunter asked.

"Well, a cousin of mine is staying up there. He's not home right now, and he comes in so late you may not even see him. His name is Claude."

Can I go up there and look around?

Maybe tomorrow we'll go up together. I'll show you the rooms you can go into and the rooms that Claude is using.

I glanced up to see that Remy was looking from Hunter to me, and he didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that I could talk to his son in a way he could not.

"Remy, it's okay," I said. "I grew up, and it got easier. I know this is going to be tough, but at least Hunter is a bright boy with a sound body. His little problem is just ... less straightforward than most other kids'."

"That's a good way to look at it." But Remy's worry didn't diminish.

"You want a drink?" I said, not sure what to do with Remy now. Hunter had asked me silently if he could unpack his bag, and I'd told him - the same way - that unpacking was fine with me. He'd already unloaded a little backpack full of toys onto the bedroom floor.

"No, thank you. I got to get going."

It was unpleasant to realize that I spooked Remy in the same way his son spooked other people. Remy might need my help, and I could tell he thought I was a pretty woman, but I could also see that I gave him the creeps. "Is the visitation in Red Ditch?" I asked. That was the town where Remy and Hunter lived. It was about an hour and a quarter's drive southeast from Bon Temps.

"No, in Homer. So this is kind of on the way. If you run into any problems, just call my cell and I can come pick him up on the way home. Otherwise, I'll stay the night in Homer, go to the funeral at ten tomorrow, stay for the lunch at my cousin's home afterward, and pick Hunter up later in the afternoon, if that suits you."

"We'll be fine," I said, which was sheer bravado on my part. I hadn't taken care of kids since I'd sat with my friend Arlene's young 'uns, way back when. I didn't want to think about that; friendships that end bitterly are always sad. Those kids probably hated me now. "I've got videos we can watch, and a puzzle or two, and even some coloring books."

"Where?" Hunter asked, looking around like he expected to see a Toys "R" Us.

"You say good-bye to your daddy, and we'll go looking for them," I told him.

"Bye, Dad," Hunter said, waving a casual hand at Remy.

Remy looked nonplussed. "Want to give me a hug, champ?"

Hunter held up his arms, and Remy picked him up and swung him around.

Hunter giggled. Remy smiled over the child's shoulder. "That's my boy," he said. "Be good for your aunt Sookie. Don't forget your manners. I'll see you tomorrow." He put Hunter down.

"Okay," Hunter said, quite matter-of-factly.

Remy had been expecting a big fuss, since he'd never been away from the boy for so long. He glanced at me, then shook his head with a smile. He was laughing at himself, which I thought was a good reaction.

I wondered how long Hunter's calm acceptance would last. Hunter looked up at me. "I'll be okay," he said, and I realized he was reading my mind and interpreting my thought in his own way. Though I'd had this experience before, it had been filtered through an adult's sensibility, and we'd had the fun of experimenting with combining our telepathy to see what happened. Hunter wasn't filtering and rearranging my thoughts as someone older would.

After hugging his son again, Remy left reluctantly. Hunter and I found the coloring books. It turned out that Hunter liked to color more than anything else in the world. I settled him at the table in the kitchen and turned my attention to supper preparation. I could have cooked a meal from scratch, but I figured something that required little attention would be best the first time he stayed with me. You like Hamburger Helper? I asked silently. He looked up, and I showed him the box.

I like that, Hunter said, recognizing the picture. He seemed to turn all his attention back to the turtle and butterfly scene he was coloring. The turtle was green and brown, approved turtle colors, but Hunter had gone to town on the butterfly. It was magenta, yellow, blue, and emerald green ... and he hadn't finished it yet. I noted that staying in the lines was not Hunter's main goal. Which was okay.

Kristen used to make Hamburger Helper, he told me. Kristen had been Remy's girlfriend. Remy had told me he and Kristen had broken up over her inability to accept Hunter's special gift. Not so surprisingly, Kristen had come to believe Hunter was creepy. Adults had thought I was a weird kid, too. Though I understood that now, at the time it had been painful. She was scared of me, Hunter said, and he looked up for a second. I could understand that look.

She just didn't understand, I said. There aren't many people like us.

Am I the only other one?

No. I know one other, a guy. He's a grown-up. He lives in Texas.

Is he okay?

I wasn't sure what Hunter meant by "okay" until I looked at his thoughts a little longer. The little boy was thinking of his dad and some other men he admired - men who had jobs and wives or girl-friends, men who worked. Regular men.

Yes, I answered. He found a way to make a living with it. He works for vampires. You can't hear vampires.

I never met one. Really?

The doorbell rang. "I'll be back in a minute," I told Hunter, and I walked swiftly to the front door. I used the peephole. My caller was a young vampire female - presumably Heidi, the tracker. My cell phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket.

"Heidi should be there," Pam said. "Has she come to the door?"

"Brown ponytail, blue eyes, tall?"

"Yes. You can let her in."

This was all very timely.

I had the door open in a second. "Hi. Come in," I said. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse." I stood aside. I didn't offer to shake hands; vampires don't do that.

Heidi nodded to me and stepped into the house, darting quick looks around her, as if openly examining her surroundings were rude. Hunter came running into the living room, skidding to a stop as he saw Heidi. She was tall and bony, and possibly a mute. However, now Hunter could test my words.

"Heidi, this is my friend Hunter," I said, and waited for Hunter's reaction.

He was fascinated. He was trying to read her thoughts, as hard as he could. He was delighted with the result, with her silence.

Heidi squatted. "Hunter, you're a fine boy," she said, to my relief. Her voice had an accent I associated with Minnesota. "Are you going to be staying with Sookie for long?" Her smile revealed teeth that were a little longer and sharper than the general run of humans', and I thought Hunter might be scared. But he eyed her with genuine fascination.

Did you come to eat supper with us? he asked Heidi.

Out loud, please, Hunter, I said. She's different from humans, but she's not like us, either. Remember?

He glanced at me as if he were afraid that I was angry. I smiled at him and nodded.

"You gonna eat supper with us, Miss Heidi?"

"No, thank you, Hunter. I'm here to go back in the woods and look for something we're missing. I won't disturb you any longer. My boss asked me to introduce myself to you, and then go about my work." Heidi stood, smiling down at the little boy.

Suddenly, I saw a pitfall right in front of me. I was an idiot. But how could I help the boy if I didn't educate him? Don't let her know you can hear things, Hunter, I told the child. He looked up at me, his eyes amazingly like my cousin Hadley's. He looked a little scared.

Heidi was glancing from Hunter to me, obviously feeling that something was going on that she couldn't discern.

"Heidi, I hope you find something back there," I said briskly. "Let me know before you leave, please." Not only did I want to know if she found anything, but I wanted to know when she was off the property.

"This should take no more than two hours," she said.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, 'Welcome to Louisiana,' " I told her. "I hope you didn't mind too much, moving here from Las Vegas."

"Can I go back to color?" Hunter asked.

"Sure, honey," I said. "I'll be there in a minute."

"I gotta go potty," Hunter called, and I heard the bathroom door close.

Heidi said, "My son was his age when I was turned."

Her statement was so abrupt, her voice so flat, that it took me a moment to absorb what she'd told me.

"I'm so sorry," I said, and I meant it.

She shrugged. "It was twenty years ago. He's grown now. He's a drug addict in Reno." Her voice still sounded flat and emotionless, as if she were talking about the son of a stranger.

Very cautiously, I said, "Do you go see him?"

"Yes," she said. "I go to see him. At least I did before my former - employer - sent me here."

I didn't know what to say, but she was still standing there, so I ventured another question. "Do you let him see you?"

"Yes, sometimes. I called an ambulance one time when I saw he'd overdosed. Another night, I saved him from a vamp-blood addict who was going to kill him."

A herd of thoughts thundered through my head, and they were all unpleasant. Did he know the vampire watching him was his mother? What if he OD'd in the daytime, when she was dead to the world? How would she feel if she wasn't there the night his luck finally ran out? She couldn't always be on hand. Could it be he'd become an addict because his mother kept popping up when she should be dead?

"In the old days," I said, because I had to say something, "vampires' makers left the area with the new vamps as soon as they were turned, to keep them away from their kin, who'd recognize them." Eric and Bill and Pam had all told me that.

"I left Las Vegas for over a decade, but I returned," Heidi said. "My maker needed me there. Being part of the world isn't as great for all of us as it is for our leaders. I think Victor sent me to work for Eric in Louisiana to get me away from my son. I wasn't any use to them, they said, as long as Charlie's troubles were distracting me. But then again, my skill in tracking was only discovered when I was finding the man who sold bad drugs to Charlie."

She smiled a little, and I knew what kind of end that man had met. Heidi was spooky in the extreme.

"Now, I'll be going to the back of your property to see what I can find. I'll let you know when I'm through." Once she'd walked out the front door, she vanished into the woods so swiftly that by the time I went to the back of the house to look out, she'd melted into the trees.

I've had a lot of strange conversations, and I've had some heart-wrenching conversations - but my talk with Heidi had been both. Fortunately, I had a couple of minutes to recover while I served our plates and monitored Hunter's hand washing.

I was glad to discover that the boy expected to say a prayer before he ate, and we bowed our heads together. He enjoyed his Hamburger Helper and green beans and strawberries. While we ate, Hunter told me all about his father, by way of table conversation. I was sure Remy would be horrified if he could hear the tell-all approach Hunter took. It was all I could do not to laugh. I guess the discussion would have seemed strange to anyone else, because half of it was mind-to-mind and half of it was spoken.

Without any reminder from me, Hunter took his plate from the table to the sink. I held my breath until he slid it onto the counter carefully. "Do you have a dog?" he asked, looking around as if one might materialize. "We always give our scraps to the dog." I remembered the little black dog I'd seen running around the backyard of Remy's little house in Red Ditch.

No, I don't, I told him.

You've got a friend that turns into a dog? he said, his eyes big with astonishment.

"Yes, I do," I said. "He's a good friend." I hadn't counted on Hunter picking that up. This was very tricky.

"My dad says I'm smart," Hunter said, looking rather doubtful.

"Sure you are," I told him. "I know it's hard being different, because I'm different, too. But I grew up to be okay."

You sound kind of worried, though, Hunter said.

I agreed with Remy. Hunter was a smart little boy.

I am. It was hard for me, growing up, because no one understood why I was different. People won't believe you. I sat down in a chair by the table and pulled Hunter onto my lap. I was worried this was too much touching for him, but he seemed glad to sit there. People don't want to know that someone can hear what they're thinking. They don't have any privacy when people like us are around.

Hunter didn't exactly get "privacy," so we talked about the concept for a while. Maybe that was over the head of most five-year-olds - but Hunter wasn't the average kid.

So is the thing out in the woods giving you privacy? Hunter asked me.

What? I knew I'd reacted with too much anxiety and dismay when Hunter looked upset, too. Don't worry about it, honey, I said. No, he's no problem.

Hunter looked reassured enough for me to feel that it was time to change the subject. His attention was wandering, so I let him scramble down. He began playing with the Duplos he'd brought in his backpack, transporting them from the bedroom to the kitchen with his dump truck. I thought of getting him some Legos for a belated birthday present, but I'd check with Remy first, get his okay. I listened in to Hunter while I was doing the dishes.

I found out that he was as interested in his anatomy as most five-year-olds are, and that he thought it was funny that he got to stand up when he peed and I had to sit down, and that he hadn't liked Kristen because she didn't really like him. She pretended to, he told me, exactly as if he'd known when I was listening in to him.

I'd been standing at the sink with my back to Hunter, but it didn't make any difference in our conversation, which was another strange feeling.

Can you tell when I'm listening to your head? I asked, surprised.

Yeah, it tickles, Hunter told me.

Was that because he was so young? Would it have "tickled" in my head, too, if I'd met another telepath when I was that age? Or was Hunter unique among telepaths?

"Was that lady who came to the door dead?" Hunter said. He'd jumped up and run around the table to stand by my side while I dried the skillet.

"Yes," I said. "She's a vampire."

"Will she bite?"

"She won't bite you or me," I said. "I guess sometimes she bites people if they tell her that's okay." Boy, I was worried about this conversation. It was like talking about religion with a child without knowing the parents' preferences. "I think you said you'd never met a vampire before?"

"No, ma'am," he said. I started to tell Hunter he didn't have to call me "ma'am," but then I stopped. The better manners he had, the easier this world would be for him. "I never met anything like that man in the woods, either."

This time he had my undivided attention, and I tried hard not to let him read my alarm. Just as I was about to ask him careful questions, I heard the screen door to the back porch open, and then foot-steps across the boards. A light knock at the back door told me that Heidi had returned from scouting in the woods, but I looked out the little window in the door to be sure. Yep, it was the vampire.

"I'm through," she said, when I opened the door. "I'll be on my way."

I noticed Hunter didn't run to the door as he had last time. He was behind me, though; I could feel his brain buzzing. He was not exactly scared, but anxious, as most children are about the unknown. But he was definitely pleased that he couldn't hear her. I'd been pleased when I found out vampire brains were silent to me, too.

"Heidi, did you learn anything?" I said hesitantly. Some of this might not be appropriate for Hunter to hear.

"The fae tracks in your woods are fresh and heavy. There are two scents. They crisscross." She inhaled, with apparent delight. "I love the smell of fae in the night. Better than gardenias."

Since I'd already assumed she'd detect the fae Basim had reported smelling, this wasn't a big revelation. But Heidi said there were definitely two fae. That was bad news. It confirmed what Hunter had said, too.

"What else did you find?" I stepped back a little, so she could see Hunter was behind me and tailor her remarks accordingly.

"Neither of them is the fairy I smell here in your house." Not good news. "Of course, I smelled many werewolves. I also smell a vampire - I think Bill Compton, though I've only met him once. There's an old c-o-r-p-s-e. And a brand-new c-o-r-p-s-e buried due east from your house, in a clearing by the stream. The clearing is in a stand of wild plums."

None of this was reassuring. The old c-o-r-p-s-e, well, I'd expected that, and I knew who it was. (I spared a moment to wish Eric hadn't buried Debbie on my property.) And if Bill was the vampire walking through the woods, that was all right ... though it did make me worry that he was just roaming around brooding all night instead of trying to build a new life for himself.

The new corpse was a real problem. Basim hadn't said anything about that. Had someone buried a body on my property in the last two nights, or had Basim simply left it off his list for some reason? I was staring at Heidi while I thought, and she finally raised her eyebrows. "Okay, thanks," I said. "I appreciate your taking the time."

"Take care of the little one," she said, and then she was across the back porch and out the door. I didn't hear her walk around the house to her car, but I didn't expect to. Vampires can be mighty quiet. I did hear her engine start up, and she drove away.

Since I knew my thoughts might worry Hunter, I forced myself to think of other things, which was harder than it sounds. I wouldn't have to do it long; I could tell my little visitor was getting tired. He put up the expected fuss about going to bed, but he didn't protest as much when I told him he could take a long bath first in the fascinating claw-foot tub. While Hunter splashed and played and made noises, I stayed in the bathroom, looking through a magazine. I made sure he actually cleaned himself in between sinking boats and racing ducks.

I decided we'd skip washing his hair. I figured that would be an ordeal, and Remy hadn't given me any instructions one way or another on hair washing. I pulled the plug. Hunter really enjoyed the gurgle of the water as it went down the drain. He rescued the ducks before they could drown, which made him a hero. "I am the king of the ducks, Aunt Sookie," he crowed.

"They need a king," I said. I knew how stupid ducks were. Gran had kept some for a while. I supervised Hunter's towel usage and helped him get his pajamas on. I reminded him to use the toilet again, and then he brushed his teeth, not very thoroughly.

Forty-five minutes later, after a story or two, Hunter was in bed. At his request, I left the light in the hall on, and his door was ajar an inch or two.

I found I was exhausted and in no mood to puzzle over Heidi's revelation. I wasn't used to tending to a child, though Hunter had been easy to care for, especially for a little guy who was staying with a woman he didn't know well. I hoped he'd enjoyed talking to me brain-to-brain. I also hoped Heidi hadn't spooked him too much.

I hadn't let myself focus on her macabre little biography, but now that Hunter was asleep, I found myself thinking about her story. It was an awful pity that she'd had to return to Nevada during her son's lifetime. In fact, she now probably looked the same age as her son, Charlie. What had happened to the boy's father? Why had her maker required her return? When she'd first been turned, vampires hadn't yet shown themselves to America and the rest of the world. Secrecy had been paramount. I had to agree with Heidi. Coming out of the coffin hadn't solved all the vamps' problems, and it had created quite a few new ones.

I would almost rather not have known about the sadness Heidi carried around with her. Naturally, since I was my grandmother's product, such a wish made me feel guilty. Shouldn't we always be ready to listen to the sad stories of others? If they want to tell them, aren't we obliged to listen? Now I felt I had a relationship with Heidi, based on her misery. Is that a real relationship? Was there something sympathetic about me that she liked, something that called this story forth? Or did she routinely tell new acquaintances about her son, Charlie? I could hardly believe that. I figured Hunter's presence had triggered her confidences.

I knew (though I didn't want to admit it to myself) that if Heidi remained so distracted by the issue of her junkie son, one night he'd get a visit from someone ruthless. After that, she'd be able to focus her whole attention on the wishes of her employer. I shivered.

Though I didn't think Victor would hesitate a second to do such a thing, I wondered, Would - or could  - Eric?

If I could even ask myself that, I knew the answer was yes.

On the other hand, Charlie made a great hostage to ensure Heidi's good behavior. As in: "If you don't spy on Eric, we'll pay Charlie a visit." But if that ever changed ...

All this Heidi meditation was by way of dodging the more immediate issue. Who was the fresh corpse in my woods, and who had planted it there?

If Hunter hadn't been there, I would've picked up the phone to call Eric. I would've asked him to bring a shovel and come to help me dig a body up. That was what a boyfriend should do, right? But I couldn't leave Hunter alone in the house, and I would've felt terrible if I'd asked Eric to go out in the woods by himself, even though I knew he wouldn't think anything about it. In fact, probably he'd have sent Pam. I sighed. I couldn't seem to get rid of one problem without acquiring another.

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