Sweet and Deadly by Charlaine Harris Page B

still clutching a handful of bills she had been filing.
    â€œListen,” she said again, and hunched over until her face was five inches from Catherine’s. Catherine had to resist an urge to lean back.
    â€œI’m listening,” Catherine said sharply. She had an ominous feeling she was about to hear yet another secret.
    â€œShe did ,” Leila hissed dramatically.
    â€œPerform abortions?”
    â€œYeah, sure,” Leila whispered. “Listen, I know you won’t tell on me…”
    Everyone certainly seems to be sure of that , Catherine thought fleetingly.
    â€œâ€¦.but she ‘did’ me. It’s like Mr. Sims says, how could I just tell my parents I was going to be out of town for two days?”
    â€œWhen was this?”
    â€œFive months ago.”
    After Father died, Catherine realized with relief. Leona just kept some of the equipment when Jerry bought the rest. At least it wasn’t while her Father was alive.
    â€œI went up to Memphis and asked, but it was awful expensive.”
    â€œLeona was cheap?”
    â€œOh, yeah, compared to Memphis. But I think she charged more later. I was one of her first.”
    Catherine felt sick.
    â€œI’m sorry, Leila.” It was all she knew to say.
    â€œOh, well.” Leila waved a polished hand to dismiss her former predicament. “What I’m scared of,” she went on urgently, “is the sheriff will tell, if he finds out. My parents, you know. I mean, what if Miss Gaites kept records?”
    â€œCome on, Leila,” Catherine said tartly. “She would hardly have a receipt file!”
    Leila pondered that.
    â€œI guess you’re right,” she said. “I mean, she was breaking the law. So she probably wouldn’t have written anything down. And you had to pay her cash.”
    Catherine imagined Leila trying to write a check for Leona’s services and winced.
    Leila, now that her immediate fear was banished, looked brighter by the second. She straightened her shoulders, leaned back in her chair, and gave her pink fingernails a once-over. Catherine was glancing at her notes surreptitiously, longing to return to something normal and humdrum, when the girl began to frown.
    â€œHow did you know about Tom’s fiancée?” Leila asked abruptly.
    â€œWhat?” Catherine made herself pay attention.
    â€œTom,” Leila prompted. “When did he tell you?”
    â€œThat they broke up?” Catherine made an effort to remember. “I guess it was yesterday.”
    â€œHe over at your place?” asked Leila, with badly feigned indifference.
    â€œOh,” Catherine said, enlightened. “No, I went over to his house” (that just made it worse, she saw instantly) “and he happened to mention it in the course of the conversation.”
    And I was trying to do her a good turn, Catherine reflected gloomily, as Leila shot her a look and rose from her chair. Leila returned to her filing, back pointedly stiff, slamming home the drawers of the cabinets with all her strength.
    It seemed a good time to go to lunch.

9
    C ATHERINE SPENT THE afternoon dodging conversations. She didn’t want to hear any more secrets or opinions.
    The entire staff was aware of her penchant for long silences, and when she gave minimal answers to direct questions she couldn’t avoid, they got the point.
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    Finally Catherine caught up with her work. She had deposited with Jewel everything urgent she had pending, with the nagging exception of the Barnes’s grandchild’s birthday-party piece.
    She had seen a couple of stories by Randall on the “set” spike when she carried her own things back. In addition to turning out editorials, Randall had to report the occasional event, when Catherine and Tom were too busy to cover it. The Gazette simply couldn’t afford another reporter, even though another pair of hands at a typewriter would often have been welcome,