The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree (Berkley Prime Crime)

I’ve had in cosmetics. I worked for a really classy drugstore in Monroeville until they had to cut back and I got laid off.” She fluffed her hair with her fingers. “Why, with my training and experience, not to mention my looks, I bet I’d get a job on Fifth Avenue faster’n you c’n say scat. It would be a whole lot more fun than workin’ for ol’ Lester Lima.” She made a face. “He ain’t always the gentleman he seems to be, y’know.”
    Lizzy was about to ask what she meant by that, but Verna spoke up, in a cautioning tone. “I wouldn’t bank on getting a job in New York, Bunny. Times are pretty tough. Maybe tougher there than here. Lots of people are out of work. Don’t you read the newspaper? Folks are lined up just to get a bowl of soup.”
    Bunny pushed her lipsticked mouth into a pout. “Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket, Verna. A girl’s gotta have a little fun in life, don’t she? An’ there sure as shootin’ ain’t no fun in this burg.”
    “Well, then, do it, Bunny,” Verna said, with a shrug. “Go on. Try your luck in New York. See if you can beat the odds.”
    Bunny sniffed. “Y’know, I might jes’ do that, Miss Smarty-Pants.” Having delivered this telling blow, she scrambled to her feet and flounced off, hips swaying.
    “Silly girl,” Verna said, shaking her head ruefully. “Young and silly.”
    “But you like her anyway,” Lizzy said, and chuckled.
    “Yes, I do,” Verna said candidly. “She has a lot of energy, and she wants more than most people want—or maybe she just wants it harder. Going to New York is probably a mistake, but I guess everybody’s got a lesson to learn.” She grinned. “With her looks, I doubt she’ll starve.”
    Lizzy stood up and brushed the grass clippings off the skirt of her blue print dress. “Speaking of going, I’d better get back to work.”
    “I’ll walk you,” Verna offered, and the two Dahlias went across the street together.
    “This business about Jed Snow and Lucy Murphy,” Lizzy said, going back to the subject that most concerned her. “Do you think we should say anything to Ophelia?” She paused. “The thing is, if people are talking and Ophelia doesn’t know anything, she’ll feel even worse when she finally hears it.” She hesitated, feeling torn. “But maybe she won’t hear anything. Maybe Jed will come to his senses and start behaving himself.”
    Verna chuckled ironically. “You’ve seen Lucy Murphy. Do you really think that’s going to happen?”
    Lizzy thought about it. Lucy had the tiniest waist she had ever seen on a person, plus the most beautiful, naturally curly red hair and the creamiest skin. And she couldn’t be a day over twenty-two. Whereas Ophelia was round and dumpy and...
    She sighed. “So you think we should tell her?”
    “I’m not sure we have to,” Verna said mysteriously. “Myra May called last night, to ask me to go next door and tell Mr. Norris that Buddy’d broken his arm. She happened to mention it was Lucy who telephoned Jed, asking him to come out”
    “So?” Lizzy asked, puzzled.
    “So after Myra May hung up, I stayed on the line and counted. Four clicks. The Snows are on my party line. Somebody at Ophelia’s house was listening.”
    “Ophelia?” Lizzy hazarded.
    “Who knows?” Verna replied. “Jed might’ve been home by that time. But yes, it could have been Ophelia.”
    “So I guess we just wait, then,” Lizzy said. She felt relieved.
    “I guess,” Verna said quietly. She took Lizzy’s arm. “Listen, Lizzy, there’s something else I need to tell you. Beatty Black stone came into the probate office this morning. He wanted to see the plat record for the three hundred block of Camellia.”
    Lizzy felt immediately apprehensive. “Did he say why?”
    “Nope. Just asked for the plat. When he was gone, I had a look for myself. It’s interesting, the way they carved up the old Cartwright property when it was divided into lots and sold, back in 1890. Camellia Street was just a two-rut country road back then, running along the front of the Cartwright grounds. From the old plat, it looks to me like the lane that went to the mansion came right through where Dahlia Blackstone’s house now stands.”
    “That makes sense,” Lizzy said. She frowned. “I wonder what Beatty was after. I don’t trust that man, Verna. He’s ... underhanded.”
    “Underhanded!” Verna hooted. “Lizzy, you’re too kind. He is devious and dishonest, and I’m not at all