Someone to watch over me

tiny tin of aspirin, and heaven knew what else.
    “He says if you grow your own vegetables you’ll cut down on his business. He fears he’ll lose other customers as well, who learn to do as you do.”
    Mrs. Prinney stared at Lily. “That’s absurd. There are still things I simply can’t grow. It takes a good three or four years to get a decent asparagus bed to produce, I’m told. Longer for a lemon tree to produce fruit, even if we keep it in the conservatory in the winter.“
    “But, Mrs. Prinney, I can see his point, I’m afraid. His stock-in-trade is mainly the same things you’re growing—beans, peas, carrots, tomatoes, and lettuce. He counts on our business to keep his shop going. He believes that we’re all rich and stingy and thoughtless, I’m sorry to say. You’d feel awful if you were responsible, even in part, to putting him on the dole.”
    Mrs. Prinney said nothing for a long moment. She merely stared at her garden. Then she heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. My vegetables aren’t turning out as well as I’d hoped, anyway. It’s too hard to keep up with the watering, let alone the weeding. The carrots I’ve pulled are already a bit gnarly. Not nearly as good as those Mrs. Anderson grows and sells to him. And they won’t be ready to eat until October, if ever. And I can’t keep the lettuces from wilting every afternoon. And the bugs and deer eat the best things every night. I have to admit I’m sorry I started this. It’s too much work for me.“
    “I’m glad you feel that way. I’ve worried about what it’s doing to your health, too.“
    “I hate to let it go, but between the pests and the time it takes and the poor results so far, I suppose I should abandon it. I’ll run to town tomorrow morning and tell Mr. Bradley I’m giving it up.
    Lily rose from where she was sitting on the grass. “You’re doing a very noble thing, Mrs. Prinney.“
    “Just a moment, dear. Give me a hand getting out of this chair. I think I’m stuck to it.”

Chapter 9

    By the time they got to church in the morning, Mrs. Prinney was in full flight, telling everyone she was giving up her garden in support of Mr. Bradley. The citizens of the town were obligated to help their own people keep in business. She didn’t actually say it was immoral to grow your own food but came as close as she could to expressing this view. She was very noble about it.
    But she was also careful not to offend Roxanne Anderson. Mrs. Prinney raved about Mrs. Anderson’s garden and the fact that she was selling her very fine excess produce to Mr. Bradley and helping him out.
    Lily suspected strongly that Mrs. Prinney had secretly been waiting for someone to give her a good reason to stop torturing herself with a vegetable garden, and Lily had provided it.
    But it left Lily with no valid excuse to miss Mrs. White’s emergency meeting. The residents of Grace and Favor went home from church to the best Sunday dinner they’d had in a long while, since Mrs. Prinney was no longer giving all her attention to the garden and had gone back to what she did best—spectacular cooking. In the afternoon Robert would drive Lily and Phoebe down the hill to Mrs. White’s and pick them back up.
    “So long as I don’t have to deliver you two to the door and talk to her,“ he specified.
    “Why would she want to talk to you?“ Lily said with a laugh.
    “I hear she’s very good at getting people to do what she wants. And I’ve heard nasty rumors about someone having to drive around in a truck. Not my cup of tea. Is that what the meeting’s about?“
    “I’m afraid so,“ Lily said. “What did you and Chief Walker learn about that suit yesterday? And why did it take you until midnight to get home?“
    “We stopped off at one of my favorite speakeasies in the city. I practically had to pour Howard onto the train. But we didn’t learn much about the suit. The old boy who ran the business had lost his records in a fire. He did give us a physical description of the person it was made for, though.“
    “That’s some help isn’t it?“
    “Unfortunately not. The man wearing the suit might have been given it when the original owner outgrew it or simply got tired of wearing it. You gave some of your clothes to Mimi when we came here because you’d lost weight and the clothes were out of style by then. Remember?“
    “True. So how else can the victim be identified? Will the pathology guy in Albany be able to tell how long