Never Sorry: Volume 2 by Edie Claire

Author:Edie Claire
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Contemporary Fiction, Animals, Cozy, Series, Contemporary, Thriller & Suspense, Women Sleuths, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Edie Claire
Published: 1999-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Katharine dropped Leigh off at the front door of her apartment building, and Leigh climbed immediately to Warren's floor. The thought of facing her maniacally blinking answering machine held little appeal, and she suddenly felt very…lonely.

She knocked on his door and he pulled it open part way, as he sometimes did when he had an important visitor. Leigh's heart sank.

"Hi," he said, a trace of sadness in his voice. "I've got company. Can you come back in about fifteen minutes?"

Leigh nodded glumly and mounted the last two flights to her own apartment. A neglected Mao Tse attacked her shins immediately, and Leigh swept the cat up and cradled her upside down. Mao Tse purred contentedly. She wouldn't let just anybody get away with that, but Leigh was privileged.

The answering machine announced a mere four messages, and Leigh was pleasantly surprised. Two were from her mother, announcing the specific location, menu and agenda of tomorrow's family conference. The menu—her Aunt Lydie's famous lasagna—sounded great. But given the location and agenda, Leigh wasn't sure she could stomach even that delicacy.

Jeff Hulsey had also called—he said for Leigh not to worry, that the whole incident could actually be good for Hook's business, provided she was cleared. Despite his impure motives, Leigh was encouraged. He seemed to have no doubt (along with everyone else who knew her and had half a brain) that she was innocent. Character witnesses were allowed in criminal trials, weren't they?

Only one message was from a reporter, and there had been no reporters waiting outside. She smiled. It was a good trend. All messages disgorged, the machine rewound and beamed its steady light once more.

Leigh looked at her watch. It had been twelve minutes since she'd talked to Warren. That was close enough. She plopped Mao Tse down on the couch, and the Persian protested loudly. "Oh, all right," Leigh said, feeling guilty again. "You can come with me."

She plodded down the stairs, holding tight to the anxious Mao Tse. "Don't get out much, do you, girl?" Warren's door was open a bit, and as she came closer, it swung open the rest of the way to let out a well-dressed, portly gentleman with a briefcase. Leigh stepped back.

The man shook Warren's hand goodbye and took off down the hall away from Leigh. She crept forward slowly, her hands clamped tight on the struggling Mao Tse. Warren hadn't completely shut the door, so she walked on in.

"Is the coast clear?" she teased, shutting the door behind her.

Warren, who had collapsed into a recliner, didn't look up. "Yeah. Come on in."

She sat on the couch opposite him, and released Mao Tse onto the coffee table. The cat sniffed tentatively at the tea-soaked Wall Street Journal, then hopped down silently and began strolling toward the bedroom. Warren scowled. "I don't have a litter box, you know."

"Don't worry," Leigh said assuringly. "She'll make do."

Warren threw her a hard glance, and Leigh noticed that he didn't look so well. "How'd it go with Tanner?" he asked.

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