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

telling people what they didn’t want to hear, I guess. Why are you asking?”
    “Because I’m trying to think who else—besides Alice Ann—might have been taking money from the bank. If you still want to go to Monroeville tomorrow evenin’, I’ll be glad to drive—if we can spend some time checking out Imogene Rutledge. She lives over there now, with her mother.”
    “It’s okay with me,” Lizzy said, “although I hope you’re not planning to walk straight up to her and ask her if she’s an embezzler. She’ll tell you where to get off.”
    There was a silence on the other end of the line. “I’ll think of a way,” Myra May muttered. “So we’re goin’ to drive over there and poke around?”
    “If you’re agreeable. Oh, and could you do a couple of things for me? Telephone-operator type things? Remember last night when we were playing hearts and Verna was telling us about Maxwell Woodburn, the guy who might be Bunny’s pen pal? One of the girls at Mrs. Brewster’s told Verna that she thought this fellow lived in Montgomery. Could you find a telephone number for him?”
    “Great idea!” Verna applauded from the table. “Wish I’d thought of it.”
    “Sure, I can do that,” Myra May said. “Let me write that down. Maxwell Wood-b-u-r-n?”
    “Right. And also, last night you mentioned that the Pontiac that Bunny Scott is supposed to have stolen belonged to Fred Harper’s brother.”
    “He lives in Monroeville, too,” Myra May said. “He’s a dentist.”
    “Could you get a phone number for him?”
    “And an address,” Verna put in.
    “Verna says we need an address, too,” Lizzy repeated.
    “What’s all this about?” Myra May asked.
    There was a click on the line. “Lizzy, could I break in?” Mrs. Freeman asked, in her old-lady’s quivery voice. “Myra May, I need to get hold of Mr. Lima at home, quick. Howard’s stomach is real bad again, and Doc Roberts is here. He says Howard has to have some new medicine and wants to tell Mr. Lima which one to order.”
    “Mr. Lima isn’t at home, Mrs. Freeman,” Lizzy said. “He and Mrs. Lima drove down to Mobile this morning, on a little vacation. There’s a sign on the drugstore door that says it’s closed.”
    “Actually,” Myra May put in, “they drove on to Pensacola. Mr. Lima telephoned his sister not twenty minutes ago to let her know where they were.” She sounded apologetic. “He says they plan to stay for a week, at least. Mrs. Lima wants to sit on the beach.”
    “A week!” Mrs. Freeman exclaimed. She sounded frightened. “Mr. Lima has never closed that drugstore before! He always says he’s here to take care of this town, regardless. What are we supposed to do for medicine while he’s gone?”
    “Tell you what, Mrs. Freeman,” Myra May replied. “I’m here at the telephone switchboard, and Tommy Ryan is sittin’ out front in the diner, polishin’ off a piece of Euphoria’s chocolate meringue pie. Tommy works out at the Coca-Cola bottling plant, but he lives over t’wards Monroeville and drives back and forth every day. If you’ll put Doc Roberts on the phone, he can tell Tommy what he needs and Tommy can pick it up at the drugstore in Monroeville tomorrow morning and bring it to you.”
    “Oh, what a wonderful idea, Myra May,” Mrs. Freeman said, with a sigh of relief. “I’ll go fetch the doctor.”
    “I’ll go get Tommy,” Myra May said. “Lizzy, see you tomorrow at five.”
    “I’ll get off the line now,” Lizzy said. “Mrs. Freeman, I hope Mr. Freeman gets to feeling better.”
    “I do, too, dear,” the old lady said fervently. “Howard suffers so with that stomach of his. And I sure hope Lester Lima gets back from that vacation real soon. There’ll be lots of folks in town needing medicine.” She sighed heavily. “Oh, and Lizzy, there’s a few more eggs for you here, if you want them. The hens are laying good right now.”
    “Thanks,” Lizzy said. “I’ll get some extra for Mother, if you can spare them.” Going back to the table, she said, “Myra May says that Mr. Lima called his sister and said they’d gone to Pensacola so Mrs. Lima could sit on the beach.”
    “I really would like to know why they left town so suddenly,” Verna said.
    “We may never know,” Lizzy replied. They finished their meal in silence, the deposit book and the telltale photograph on the table between them.

NINETEEN
    Bessie Bloodworth Bags a Ghost
    Evenings were always quiet at Magnolia