Sweet and Deadly by Charlaine Harris Read Free Book Online Page A

hoped it would be Randall. It was a dash of cold water in the face to see Sheriff Galton.
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    Oh, go away, she told him silently. I had gotten all settled, and here I am mad again.
    â€œI’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday, Catherine, but I’ve thought of a few more questions I want to ask you.”
    Galton looked as immovable as a transport truck.
    Suddenly Catherine was no longer angry. She felt flat and depressed. She saw in James Galton the grinning man who had swept her to the ceiling in a deliciously frightening game, when he and his wife came to visit Glenn and Rachel Linton.
    There was nothing fun about being frightened now. There was nothing fun about being the sheriff, either. James Galton’s face had been sanded down with exhaustion.
    â€œPlease come in,” she said quietly, standing aside.
    He sank down onto the couch with a barely audible sigh of relief. Catherine took the chair Tom had occupied the afternoon before.
    For a minute or two they were silent. Galton was lost in some dark alley of thought. Catherine watched him, lit a cigarette, tried to relax. The feeling of being fifteen and in first crush had utterly died away, leaving her hardened, old, and alone. She resolved to behave like a normal, sane, balanced woman—a resolution that immediately made her nervous and fidgety.
    â€œWell, I’ll keep this as short as I can,” the sheriff began. “I know you probably want to be by yourself”—and Catherine winced as her idea of her image in Lowfield was confirmed—“but you know, Catherine, I don’t enjoy this.”
    She felt remorseful, receptive, and wary, all at once.
    â€œNow, when you were driving to the shack yesterday, did you see anyone you know, anyone at all?”
    Catherine reflected obediently.
    â€œNo. Well, yes I did,” she said, surprised. A blue pickup had been coming toward Lowfield as she was going to the shack. She remembered a friendly wave through a bug-spattered windshield.
    â€œI saw Martin Barnes,” she said without thinking, still amazed that she had forgotten, especially since the sheriff had asked her who rented the land. Was she getting Martin Barnes in trouble? He was a pleasant, not-too-bright man with a married daughter, Sally, who was Catherine’s age.
    Well, Mr. Barnes is old enough to watch out for himself, Catherine decided with a new tartness.
    â€œWhat was he driving?” Galton asked.
    â€œHis blue pickup. I don’t know makes and models. But it was him; he waved at me.”
    â€œWhere do you reckon you were when you saw him?”
    Catherine thought back. Her morning before she had entered the shack was blurry to her now.
    â€œHe was fixing to turn onto the highway, just as I was turning off,” she said. “You know, there are a couple of houses there. One that Jewel Crenna rents. The other one’s empty now.”
    â€œThe turn-off to the shack,” Galton observed mildly.
    â€œYes,” said Catherine and took a deep breath. Despite her every-man-for-himself resolution, she was still dressing things up. She didn’t want to point any fingers.
    Galton said intuitively, “Catherine, someone did this. Maybe someone you know.”
    â€œAnd maybe it was you,” whispered the silence that fell after he spoke.
    â€œHow long since you saw Leona?” he asked abruptly.
    â€œTom and Randall asked me that yesterday,” she said nervously. “I honestly don’t remember.”
    Do drag in the word “honestly,” she congratulated herself savagely. By all means .
    â€œIf you mean saw her around town,” she rattled on, “I guess a couple of weeks ago in the drugstore. If you mean saw her to speak to, it was a few months ago—about three months—when Tom was going to move into the house in back, Father’s old office. She called me—” Catherine stopped short.
    â€œShe called you?” nudged