Free Sweet and Deadly by Charlaine Harris Page B

doesn’t seem to think it’s related.” She frowned, still not satisfied that the sheriff was right; though from his mysterious hints she knew there was something about Leona’s activities that Galton felt had led directly to her death.
    â€œI know more than James Galton, that’s for sure,” Tom said, with a whisker-licking effect. “Guess who’s selling dope in Lowfield?”
    Catherine raised her eyebrows interrogatively.
    â€œJimmy Galton, Junior!” Tom laughed.
    â€œOh no,” Catherine murmured in real distress. If Tom knew that, who else did? All the kids in Lowfield, of course. Poor Sheriff Galton. Did he know? In his job, how could he avoid knowing? She wondered if Leona had known James Junior’s occupation, too. And whether the wads of cash found in Leona’s house were hush money paid by one of the Galtons to ensure she kept quiet. Money that was now coming to her, Catherine remembered, sickened.
    â€œI wish you hadn’t told me that, Tom,” she said bitterly.
    â€œI’ll comfort you, little Catherine.”
    â€œThe hell you will. I’m going home.”
    â€œOh, stay and have another beer.” And he gave her his charming grin. “We can pool our resources.” His eyebrows waggled suggestively.
    â€œYeah, sure,” she said, laughing in spite of herself. “Right now I don’t feel like I have any resources to pool. Thanks for the beer.”
    Tom made a gentlemanly attempt to rise.
    â€œNo, don’t get up, you look like you’ll fall down if you do. I know where the door is. See you tomorrow.”
    â€œYes,” Tom said cheerfully. “I’ve got to write Leona’s obit.”
    On that happy note, Catherine shut the screen door behind her.
    She had to lengthen her stride to hit the stepping-stones that linked their back doors. The hedges between the houses joined the hedges running down the sides of the yard, making an H of greenery. Her parents had planted it for privacy from the street on one side and from neighbors on the other; and to separate the office and home backyards. It had gotten out of hand, and Catherine reminded herself, as she went through the gap planned for her father’s passage, that she needed to take care of it.
    I ought to do it myself, she thought. Then she looked down at her arms, too pink and tender from exposure to the sun the day before, and decided to hire someone.
    What are these bushes, anyway? she wondered. She rubbed some leaves between her fingers, which of course told her nothing. She was trying to avoid thinking about the Galtons, Senior and Junior. Catherine stared at the growth blankly. I hate this damn hedge, she thought. I’ll cut the whole thing down. Both yards are open anyway, and what do I do in the backyard that anyone shouldn’t see?
    The hedge was added to her mental list of things to change, which already numbered curtains, bedspread, clothes, and shoes.
    It made her feel a little better, planning for the future.
    When all this is over, she thought vaguely.
    As she entered her back door, she heard the front doorbell ringing. No rest for the wicked, she told herself grumpily. What’ll I get this time? An interrogation? A chicken casserole?
    In this disagreeable frame of mind, she swung open the front door. Finally, her caller was Randall.

7
    â€œ W ANT TO GO out to the levee with me?”
    â€œOkay,” Catherine said smoothly, dancing a little jig inside. “Come in while I straighten myself up.”
    She had only seen him in the conservative suits he wore at the Gazette . He was wearing khakis and a T-shirt. He looked incredibly muscular for a newspaper editor. He looked wonderful.
    I am smitten, Catherine said silently as she gave her hair a hasty brushing in the bedroom. How long has it been since I was smitten?
    She remembered as she touched up her makeup.
    She had overheard the young man through her dorm window. He had been