The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star (18 page)

“I think Charlie went a little overboard on that,” Lizzie said. “But I heard on the radio tonight that there was a kidnapping in Mobile yesterday—the wife of a local grocery store owner. The crooks were asking three thousand dollars, but she tricked them and got away.” She sighed. “It seems to be happening everywhere.”

Verna was thinking about something else. “I wonder what’s going on between Miss Dare and Angel Flame—jealousy, maybe? Could be personal, could be professional. And we don’t know much about Rex Hart. How do you think he fits into this?”

Lizzy frowned. “Charlie thinks he may have had something to do with the sabotage, especially since both attempts seem to have been made by someone who knows something about airplanes. But Miss Dare refused to answer any questions about him. She told Charlie to leave him out of it.”

“Mmm,” Verna said thoughtfully, and stubbed out her cigarette. “Do you suppose Rex Hart wrote those anonymous letters?”

Lizzy hadn’t thought of that possibility. She cocked her head on one side, considering. “The letter I saw was written in purple ink on pink paper. Mildred said that the handwriting was a woman’s, but now that I think about it, I’m not sure. It could have been a man’s—and I suppose a man could have used that paper and ink, especially if he wanted to make the letter look as if it were written by a woman.” She frowned. “But what motive would Rex Hart have?”

Verna shrugged. “Maybe he’s jealous of Roger Kilgore and hoped that Mildred would tell her husband to drop Miss Dare or else. Or maybe he was trying to push Mildred to the point where
she
would make serious trouble for Miss Dare. And then of course, there’s the blackmail. Maybe—”

“Blackmail?” Lizzy asked blankly. “What blackmail?”

Verna frowned at her. “Really, Lizzy. Haven’t you thought through this at
all
? Those checks Roger wrote.
It sounds to me as if Miss Dare has been blackmailing him. Threatening to reveal their relationship if he didn’t pay up.”

Lizzy blinked. “Really, Verna, I don’t think I—”

“Come on, Liz,
think
,” Verna broke in urgently. “Why else would he be paying her? I’ve had several dealings with Roger Kilgore in the probate clerk’s office. The man is by no means a pushover. I seriously doubt that he would fork over nine hundred bucks out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Not even for love?” Lizzy ventured, feeling that she had not looked deeply enough into this complicated situation. It was a good thing Verna was here to set her straight.

“Not even for love,” Verna replied firmly. “Roger is not that kind of guy.” She gazed up at the ceiling, tapping a fingernail against her teeth, thinking. After a moment, she said, “But of course there are other possibilities. It could be that our anonymous letter writer is the one who is doing the blackmailing. After all, we don’t know for sure
who
got the three checks that were written to
Lily Star.”

“But I don’t understand,” Lizzy said, puzzled. And then she did. Of course: Lily Star might be, or might
not
be, Lily Dare. And they had no idea to whom the checks were mailed, or who actually received and cashed them.

“Yes,” she said, slowly. “I think I see.” She looked gratefully at Verna, glad that she had told her everything, even though it meant breaking a confidence. Verna was clever. Like Miss Marple, she saw things that other people failed to see—perhaps because (like Miss Marple) she did not expect the best of everyone.

“Well, good,” Verna said. “So let’s see where we are. We know that Roger Kilgore is sending money to somebody—it could be Miss Dare but it might just as well be somebody else—to keep mum about something. The odds are good that it is his relationship with Miss Dare, which he doesn’t want his wife to know about. She controls the money.”

“She does?” Lizzy asked. “Oh, yes, of course she does. She told me so just yesterday.” It was true. Roger Kilgore might have built up the dealership into the successful business it was—or that it had been before the Crash. But the money to start it had come from Mildred’s father’s cotton fortune. And Mildred was afraid, very afraid, that her money might all be gone soon.

“Of course, Roger could be trying to hide something else altogether.” Verna frowned. “In any case, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already stopped loving that woman, or lusting after her, or whatever his feelings were when he got himself into this tricky situation. He’s no dimwit. He may have already broken it off.”

Lizzy nodded. “He has to know that their relationship is dangerous in a lot of ways. Maybe he’s trying to extricate himself.” On the other hand, maybe Roger was like Miss Dare, who seemed to thrive on danger. Maybe that was what had brought them together in the first place.

She shivered. She couldn’t love someone—
truly
love him—if she had to worry about the risk involved. Maybe that was why she felt more comfortable with Grady than with Mr. Moseley. Grady was safe, and Mr. Moseley was . . . well, not so safe. Mr. Moseley himself was
not
a dangerous man, of course—in fact, he was rather conservative and sometimes even stodgy. But there were certainly potential dangers in a relationship with him.

Verna thought for a moment. “And Roger seems not to be the only one dangling from Lily Dare’s string. There are those
other
men you mentioned.”

“Yes,” Lizzy mused. “The men who ‘support her expensive habits,’ was the way the letter put it.”

Verna stood up and stretched. “I’ve had enough mysteries for one night. I’m going to brush my teeth. Do you want to take the first watch, or shall I?”

“The first watch?” Lizzy asked, still thinking about those other men.

“Two hours, don’t you think? Whoever’s on watch can sit in the rocker beside the window. Miss Dare has her window open, too, so we’re sure to hear if she screams or anything. Why don’t I go first?” She looked at her wristwatch. “It’s ten o’clock. You get some sleep and I’ll wake you at twelve. Then you can be on watch until two. Okay?”

Lizzy began to unbutton her blouse. She was glad that Verna was there to think things through for them and make a plan, since she herself usually just took things as they came.

“But I think we ought to leave our clothes on,” Verna went on. “Just in case we hear something and have to investigate, I mean.” She walked to the window, let up the shade, and looked out. “And for whatever it’s worth, there’s another way out than the stairs,” she remarked, over her shoulder. “We’re only about ten feet off the ground, and there’s a trellis under this window—and the one next door. We could climb down easily.”

Lizzy went to look. “I’m pretty sure Miss Marple would draw the line at climbing down a trellis from a second-story window.”

Verna grinned and pulled down the shade again. “Maybe. But Nancy Drew would be just fine going down, don’t you think? And somebody could certainly climb
up.
Heigh-ho. I’m off to brush my teeth. Back in a flash and then it’s your turn.”

A little later, back from her turn in the bathroom, Lizzy pulled off her shoes and stretched out, still wearing her clothes, on the pink chenille coverlet on one of the beds. She was dozing off when Verna spoke into the shadowy darkness.

“Grady Alexander came into the office today on some property business. He said you’re going to the party tomorrow night with Mr. Moseley. True?”

“Not true,” Lizzy said. “I mean, it
was
true when I told Grady. But Mr. Moseley had to go out of town. So I don’t have a date.” As an afterthought, she added carelessly, “Which is fine with me.”

“It’s definitely not fine with Grady,” Verna remarked. “He thinks he’s lost you and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

“Did he say that?” Lizzy asked, surprised.

“Not in so many words,” Verna admitted. “But I could hear it in his voice. You’re not going to see him again? You two have broken up?”

“Not exactly,” Lizzy said, and told Verna what had happened. She didn’t often talk about her feelings, even with Verna, who was a close friend—her best friend, actually. But the dark made the words come a little easier, somehow. And made it easier for her to admit that she’d been wrong.

“I wish I hadn’t agreed to go with Mr. Moseley,” she said. “That was where I made my mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“Well, yes.” Lizzy hesitated. “For one thing, I’m not sure how easy it would be to work with him afterward.”

“After what?”

Lizzy frowned. “After—well, you know.” She wished that Verna would be satisfied with one answer instead of always pushing for more. It was very irritating.

“After a few kisses—or something else?”

“Nothing else!” Lizzy said indignantly, and then subsided. “But a few kisses would be bad enough, wouldn’t they? Bad as in dangerous, I mean.”

It might be easy for Verna to work with a man she had kissed. But not for Lizzy. Grady had kissed her often enough—and passionately enough—and she knew how she felt afterward. If Mr. Moseley kissed her the way Grady did, it might be hard for her to sit on the other side of the desk while he dictated letters to her the next morning—no, not hard; impossible! She could never in the world pretend that nothing important had happened between them when it
had
. Just thinking about it, she could feel her insides softening and her cheeks burning.

“Liz, sweet Liz,” Verna said pityingly. “You do have a
lot
to learn. Not that I’m an expert when it comes to romance,” she added. “But if you’ve decided that it’s too dangerous to go out with Mr. Moseley, I think you should do something about Grady. He’s pretty unhappy.”

“He’s unhappy because he’s been taking me for granted,” Lizzy said, not very logically. “And now he knows he can’t. Or shouldn’t.” She slid back down on the bed. “Or won’t. Or . . . something,” she added, and pulled the pillow over her face.

“You don’t sound very happy, either,” Verna remarked.

“I’m not,” Lizzy confessed. “Not when it comes to Grady. I just wish he—” She stopped. She couldn’t finish the sentence because she had no idea
what
she wished. She was utterly confused and she hated it. Hated being confused, that is.

Verna laughed shortly. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to be even unhappier when I tell you who Grady has asked to the party tomorrow night. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but somebody has to tell you so you can be prepared.”

Lizzy pushed the pillow aside and sat bolt upright. “Grady is bringing somebody? To the party?” She swallowed. “He’s got a date with somebody
else
?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Verna replied. “He said he’s asked the former Miss Cotton of Monroeville. DeeDee Davis. Fourth runner-up in the 1930 Miss Alabama contest. And voted Miss Congeniality, too.”

The news burst on Lizzy like a bombshell. “Oh, no, not
her
!” she moaned. “Not DeeDee Davis!”

She buried her face in the pillow. Everybody knew that blond, curvaceous DeeDee Davis was the most beautiful girl in three counties. She was nice, too. And young—no more than twenty-five, if that. She worked as a secretary in the Monroe County Ag office. As agriculture agent for both counties, Grady no doubt saw her whenever he went over to the Monroeville office.

“Jealous?” Verna inquired gently.

“Absolutely
not
,” Lizzy snapped, dropping the pillow. “What makes you think I’m jealous?”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Well, I’m not.” Grady’s mother might think they were going to get married.
Her
mother might think so, too. But they were both wrong. Lizzy knew for a fact that she and Grady were not committed to one another, so there was no reason to be jealous. No reason at all.

“That’s good,” Verna said. “That way, you won’t be the least bit upset when you see them together tomorrow night.”

“Oooh,” Lizzy groaned, and rolled over to face the wall. Why did life have to be so
complicated
?

“Two hours,” Verna said. “I’ll wake you.”

The day had been a long one and Lizzy was bone-weary. Despite fretting over Verna’s bombshell (and no, she was definitely
not
jealous), she was soon asleep. How long she slept, she didn’t know. She was dreaming that she was driving a bumper car in a carnival ride, dressed in her gray silk party dress and wearing her silver earrings and bracelet. Mr. Moseley and Grady, driving separate cars, were bumping her car, very hard, each one shouting that he had come to take her to the party because she had promised to go with
him.
To make matters worse, she knew she had promised one of them but she couldn’t for the life of her remember which one, and she felt terribly guilty for forgetting such an important commitment—almost as important, it seemed in her dream, as a promise to marry.

And the minute she thought of that, Lizzy remembered that she definitely
had
promised to marry one of them. Which one? Was it Grady or Mr. Moseley? Or maybe she had promised to marry
both
of them! Oh, dear! She must love
one
of them, mustn’t she, or she would never have promised to marry him. Or maybe she loved them
both
?

But that was impossible—wasn’t it? And anyway, she couldn’t marry either one of them because she was wearing her gray dress (
married in black you’ll wish yourself back; married in gray you’ll die far away
) and she loved living in her little doll’s house all alone, with only Daffy for company. Which of course was entirely and unforgivably selfish, just as her mother said, but there was nothing she could do about that.

And then, to make matters worse, DeeDee Davis, decked out in her Miss Cotton gown and crown, suddenly appeared in Grady’s car. Grady pulled over to the side and the two of them began necking passionately. To escape the sight, Lizzy drove her car out a door and down a dark, winding alley into an empty field. She was sitting there, wondering what she should do next, when she felt someone gently shaking her shoulder. It was Mr. Moseley. “Wake up,” he said. “Wake up, Liz, it’s time to go to the party. Wake up!”

Startled out of the confusion of her dream, Lizzy opened her eyes into the shadows of Mildred’s pink guestroom. Verna was leaning over her, still shaking her shoulder, not so gently now.