Read Online Sweet and Deadly by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online

from one of the houses by the highway. She tried to recall exactly what she had seen. No: she couldn’t picture precisely where the truck had been before she passed it.
    Catherine shook her head. It was a stupid lie that Martin Barnes was telling. She could see no reason for it; he should have known she would report seeing him. Mr. Barnes was a good planter, but definitely not the smartest of men.
    Maybe he was the guilty one. If he was not the guilty man…her mouth twisted. This was loathe-some. She wanted someone to be proved guilty; fast, so no more suspicion would be attached to her. But she couldn’t bear the certain knowledge that the murderer was someone she knew, someone whose face formed a part of her life. She had always known that, but she had never been able to accept it. She couldn’t think of anyone in Lowfield she imagined capable of beating a woman to death. Or of loosening an essential part in the car of the town’s best-known and most-loved doctor and his wife.
    Could it be that Lowfield contained two murderers? That the deaths of her parents and Leona were not related? Sheriff Galton clearly believed the crimes were separate.
    A familiar tension, resulting from the suspense of watching and waiting, caused Catherine’s muscles to tighten. She simply couldn’t picture someone she knew plotting the horrible death Glenn and Rachel Linton had suffered.
    Her hand came down flat and hard on the glass.
    It left a print, and she retreated into wondering for the hundredth time why her mother had bought a glass-topped table. Catherine had gotten out the glass cleaner and a rag, turning with relief to the mundane little task, when she remembered telling Galton she was a rich woman. She shook her head again.
    That was something you just didn’t say.
    The doorbell rang as Catherine was twisting her neck to look through a shaft of sun, checking to see if she had gotten all the marks off the table.
    Does everyone in town want to talk to me? she wondered crossly. For a well-known recluse, I’m having lots of company these days.
    Molly Perkins, the coroner’s wife, was standing with a casserole dish clutched in her hands when Catherine opened the door. Catherine had automatically looked up, and she had to adjust her sights down to meet Miss Molly’s washed-blue eyes.
    Miss Molly began instantly. “I am so sorry you had such a horrible experience. I know you’re upset. I won’t stay but a minute, I just wanted to run this over to you. I knew you wouldn’t feel like cooking.”
    Food, the southern offering on the altar of crisis. Catherine was bemused by its presentation now. Finding a corpse must be close enough to death in the family to qualify.
    â€œThanks,” she said faintly. “Please come in.”
    â€œWell, like I say, I won’t stay but a minute. I know you must be busy with company coming by and all.”
    The plump little woman was trotting through the living room back to the kitchen.
    â€œCompany?” Catherine asked the air behind her.
    But Mrs. Perkins apparently didn’t hear her.
    Molly Perkins’s whole body tilted forward when she walked, giving her the effect of charging eagerly forward at life. Her enormous bosom made her appear in danger of falling flat on her face at any moment, which had added a pleasant suspense to her company when Catherine was younger.
    Placing the casserole on the kitchen counter, Mrs. Perkins earnestly continued, “I do hope you like gumbo. All these years up here, and I still cook Cajun. I always fix too much for Carl and myself. I just got used to cooking a lot while Josh was growing up. Can’t change my habits now he’s married and gone, I guess.”
    â€œThank you,” Catherine said again, determined to get a word in somewhere. “And how is Josh?”
    â€œWe got a phone call from him and his wife Friday,” said Miss Molly happily. “They’re expecting.