Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause (22 page)

“Don’t you dare!” Frazier told her, but she noticed that his eyes were wet, too.

A few minutes later they spread their cloth in the shade of a large oak in Piedmont Park and enjoyed a lunch of baked ham, deviled eggs, pickles, potato salad, and crusty french bread, followed by rich, dark brownies with pecans and fudge frosting. Their friends at the restaurant had also included disposable dinnerware, cups, and a container of sweet iced tea.

“What? No wine?” Frazier peeked in the basket and feigned disappointment.

“Heavens, what would Froggie say? You want to get me fired?” Annie laughed. “Besides, I don’t need spirits to lift me up today.” She blew him a kiss and lay back on the cloth after they cleared away their lunch things, and Frazier stretched out beside her as they watched a group of local musicians set up for a concert in the bandstand.

“You didn’t tell me there would be entertainment,” Annie said as people began to gather in groups around them.

“Especially for you.” Frazier leaned over for a quick kiss and laughed. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t know, either.”

The band could’ve been led by Glenn Miller, Harry James, or Benny Goodman and it would have made no difference to either of them as they sat beneath
their
tree and talked about a future together when the fighting would be over and their loved ones safely home.

“I wish we could carve our initials on this tree,” Frazier said, running a finger over the rough bark, “but I doubt if park officials would approve.”

“We don’t need to mark it to make it ours,” Annie reminded him.

“One of these days we’ll bring our children here.” Frazier pulled her to her feet and, to the delight of onlookers, lifted her face for a kiss. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

And Annie Gardner threw her arms around his neck and cried all over his uniform.

Stroking her hair, Frazier laughed softly. “Uh-oh! Is the very thought of marrying me that terrible? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Annie took his hand and kissed it. “What scares me is having to let you go, but I’ll be right here when you come back, and don’t think for one minute I’m going to let you forget your offer.”

“I’m counting on it,” Frazier said, “and, just to be sure, maybe this will help you to remember.” And while the band played “When Johnny Comes Marching Home,” he slipped a ring on her finger.

*   *   *

“I meant to give you the ring tonight, but I just couldn’t wait,” Frazier said later as they strolled the meandering pathways of the park.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’ll probably never have another chance for a standing ovation.” Annie’s face was still burning from the applause they’d received from the surrounding crowd, many of who had offered congratulations and hearty good wishes for a happy life together.

The gathering grew thin as evening shadows crept across the grass, and the group on the bandstand packed up their instruments and left. Soon the park would close, and still Annie clung to Frazier’s hand, taking comfort in his nearness. This time tomorrow he would be on his way back to Fort Benning to join his company, and all he could tell her was that they would be serving in the European Theater. When would she see him again?
Would
she see him again?

This won’t do at all! He is not going to remember me as dreary and weeping on our last day together before he ships out.
“I guess we’d better head back to the car before we get locked in the park for tonight,” Annie said in what she hoped was a spirited tone.

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” he whispered in her ear. “But you’re right. If we’re going to make it to the Place to Be, we’d better get a move on or we might not get back before midnight.”

“The Place to Be? What in the world is that?”

“Only where you’ll find the best barbecue in the world. It’s a little place between here and Athens where I’m taking you for dinner. Don’t worry. It’s less than an hour away.”

“Frazier Duncan, how can you even think of eating again after all that food we put away at lunch?”

“But that was hours ago, and I’m a growing boy,” he said as he stowed the empty picnic basket in the trunk of the car. “As my always-ailing aunt Hortense used to say, ‘I believe I might be able to sit up and take some light nourishment.’”

“And
I believe
I’d better learn how to cook,” Annie said with determination.

*   *   *

It was soon after they drove through the small village of Winder that she saw him. “Frazier! Turn around—we have to go back!”

“Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Frazier slowed the car and looked for a place to turn around. “Annie, what is it?”

“It’s
him
—Buddy Oglesby! The man who disappeared with the War Bond money. Remember? I told you all about it.”

“Where? Are you sure?”

“I saw him go into that little store back there. I know it’s him, Frazier. Nobody is as tall and lanky as Buddy. Hurry! I have to find out for sure.”

But in the five minutes it took to turn around and go back to the store where she’d seen him, Buddy Oglesby—or the man who looked like Buddy Oglesby—was no longer there.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

If he hadn’t had a hankering for a fried bologna sandwich, she never would’ve seen him—and chances were, she hadn’t. But how could he be sure? Ima Jean had on occasion been good to share what she’d had with him, but a fellow can eat just so many pinto beans, and lately he’d been remembering how his grandmamma used to fry up sliced bologna with onions until he could pretty near smell it. The general store down the road stayed open pretty late, and if he walked fast, he could get there before it closed. He could almost taste that bologna.

And now look where it had gotten him! He had paid for his purchases and was getting ready to leave the store when he saw her getting out of the car only a few yards away. Buddy slipped behind a shelf of canned goods and looked again. Sure enough, it was Annie, the pretty little teacher who’d helped with the follies back in Elderberry.

Frantically, he looked around. The door behind him opened into a storeroom and then to the outside. Gripping the bag of bread and bologna, Buddy Oglesby took his chances and ran.

*   *   *

“Are you sure it was him?” Charlie asked. “I mean, could you really tell from that far away?”

Annie nodded. “Had to be. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and the storefront was lighted. He crossed the road right in front of us, and I’m sure he went into that store—but then it seemed like he just disappeared.”

Charlie frowned. “Did you mention it to the store clerk when you went back?”

“He said somebody matching Buddy’s description was just there, but unless he’s become invisible, he didn’t leave the way he came in. I think he must’ve seen me and slipped out the back.”

“I just can’t imagine what Buddy Oglesby would be doing in Winder,” Charlie said.

“Hiding out, I suppose. Waiting for a chance to spend all that money he took.” Annie kicked a twig from the sidewalk and took pleasure in imagining it was Buddy. “I told Chief Tinsley about it, and he said he’d look into it, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Do you think Buddy might’ve had something to do with setting that fire at Jesse Dean’s? If he was the one who shot him, he might’ve come back to—”

Annie stopped in mid-stride and turned to face her. “Oh, Charlie, I hope not! It’s awful to think he’d be capable of something like that, but when you think about it, Winder’s not that far away.”

“You’re right. It isn’t, and if Buddy didn’t do it, then who did?” It was Monday following Annie’s weekend trip to Atlanta and the two were walking back to school after their noon meal at Phoebe’s, where everyone had made a big production of admiring Annie’s ring, although a few had seen it on her return the day before.

“If Will gave me an engagement ring I think I’d walk around with my hand out in front of me for everyone to see,” Charlie said, admiring her friend’s diamond as they waited to cross the street.

Annie laughed. “Just wait! It won’t be long. Do you think you’ll be able to see him before they move on to advanced?”

“I doubt it. You know as well as I do their time’s not their own. When’s the last time you saw Joel?”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Annie said, smiling. “My brother has more important things to do than spend time with me, but he said in his last letter they expect to be moving on to advanced training the end of this month.”

Charlie nodded. “And Craig Field’s in Selma. That’s way down in the middle of the state. Will thinks we
might
be able to meet in Columbus or even Montgomery sometime during Thanksgiving.”

“Wouldn’t
that
be appropriate? The two of you met a year ago on Thanksgiving. Remember?”

Just thinking of it made Charlie feel warm inside in spite of a chill wind bringing rain. How could she ever forget?

*   *   *

“Well, I hope Bobby Tinsley will pay attention to you and Annie now,” Phoebe said when Dimple told her what she’d learned about Buddy’s connection with Cynthia Murphy. “Thinks nobody knows anything but him. I never saw a man so thickheaded!”

Odessa had left early that day, and Dimple was helping her friend set the table for a light supper. “Yes, well, we had a little chat, and he seemed most interested when I told him Buddy and Cynthia were a couple back in high school. He admitted he didn’t take it seriously when Annie told him she thought she’d seen Buddy in Winder, but I’m confident that he’ll look into it now.” She put a bowl of potato salad on the table and went to the buffet for a serving spoon. “I keep thinking of how upset Buddy was the day they found Cynthia’s remains. He must have had some idea who it was even then … the thought disturbs me.”

“Just one more good reason why Buddy Oglesby should be behind bars—and the sooner, the better!” Phoebe said. “Reynolds has been told not to leave the area, so they obviously believe he had something to do with his wife’s death, but from what you’re telling me, it might’ve been Buddy who killed her.”

She pulled out a chair and sat abruptly. “Oh, Dimple, you don’t suppose
he
set that fire the other night, do you?” She lowered her voice. “And could Buddy be the one who’s been sending me those notes?”

Miss Dimple shook her head. “Let’s hope they get to the bottom of that fire business soon, but I don’t know about the notes since all but the first one were postmarked here.” She paused to sit beside her. “We’re going to find out who’s doing this, Phoebe. When I walked past the house on Legion Street early this morning everything looked the same, but Virginia promises we can try again tomorrow night.”

Phoebe ran her fingers over the starched white tablecloth, worn thin in spots and patched in others. “You can’t keep on watching that place forever. Perhaps I should tell the police…”

“Whoever is doing this certainly waited a long time to try and take advantage of the situation,” Dimple said. “
Think,
Phoebe. It must be someone new to the area, perhaps someone who lived here before and knew you in the past.”

Phoebe frowned. “Buddy Oglesby was raised here and lived away for several years, but he wasn’t even born when—well, when I went to stay with my aunt and had Kathleen, and I think we can rule out Sebastian, since he spent most of his life in Austria.”

“What about Coach McGregor and his wife?” Miss Dimple hadn’t told anyone what she suspected of the new coach, and didn’t plan to until she had a chance to speak with him privately. She liked Jordan McGregor in spite of her doubts and was reluctant to pursue her suspicions without further evidence.

“I don’t think so. At least I hope not. I hear he’s doing wonders with the football team this season.” Phoebe rose to set a stack of plates at the end of the table and added a basket of napkins. She didn’t have fifty more dollars to give to the person behind this faceless threat, and if it weren’t for Kathleen and Harrison, she wouldn’t concern herself about it at all. But the fact that someone would circulate vicious gossip about those she loved best spread like poison through her thoughts.

*   *   *

“They were
there
!” Lou Willingham spoke in a triumphant voice over the telephone Saturday morning.

“Who was there?” her sister asked.

“
You know,
” Lou whispered. “The people we talked about on the bus yesterday.” One had to be careful when using the telephone in Elderberry as you never knew when Florence McCrary, the local operator, might be listening in. “You promised to go with me tonight, remember?”

Jo sighed. “Oh, Lou, you know how you imagine things. I want to write Fain, and if I don’t finish that article about the Woman’s Club’s Harvest Social for the
Eagle,
it won’t get in next week’s edition.” Jo Carr took her part-time job as society editor for the local weekly seriously. “I don’t have time to go riding around in the middle of the ni—”

“Shh! I tell you they were there again last night, and you
did
agree to go with me. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

Jo had to admit that she was. “But I can’t stay out to all hours.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t have that much gas,” Lou said.

“What does Ed think about it?” Jo asked. Lou’s husband didn’t always go along with her outrageous ideas, but he seldom had a choice in the matter.

“Oh, Ed will be asleep. Conks out as soon as he listens to H. V. Kaltenborn and the news. He’ll never know I’ve been gone.”

Jo tried to think of a thousand reasons why she couldn’t go along, but she knew it was no use to argue.

“I’ll come by there in about an hour and we can go over our plans,” Lou said, and hung up before her sister had time to answer.

*   *   *

Annie hadn’t been home a day before nearly everybody in Elderberry knew that Buddy Oglesby was seen at a store in a little town not far from Atlanta. Some said he had already spent all the bond money and was driving a fancy new car (although it was a mystery where he’d gotten it as American manufacturers had begun putting all their materials into the war effort soon after Pearl Harbor and drivers had to make do with the ones they had). A few even claimed he had gone over to the other side and was spying for the Germans.