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

changer. And don’t you think it’s something you should learn, too?” She pushed her chair back. “In fact, it would be a good idea if we put the spare on now, while the boy’s asleep. Come on.”
    And Ophelia—still wishing she’d worn her other shoes—had no choice but to follow. Lucy had taken charge.

TWENTY-ONE
    Verna, Myra May, and Lizzy: On the Case in Monroeville
    That same afternoon, right after work, Verna, Lizzy, and Myra May all met outside the diner, where they piled into Big Bertha, Myra May’s 1920 green Chevrolet touring car. Bertha had belonged to Myra May’s father, who had taken very good care of her. Even though she was ten years old and was on her fifth set of tires and her second carburetor, she still had a good many miles left in her. Big Bertha was roomy, too. There was ample space for all three of them with room left over, and they started off for Monroeville in high spirits.
    It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and they were dressed for an outing in light summer dresses with frilly collars—all except Myra May, who wore her usual trousers and tailored blouse. They all wore summer straw hats, too. Myra May’s was narrow-brimmed and mannish, Lizzy’s was decorated with flowers, and Verna’s sailor hat sported blue and red grosgrain ribbons.
    “Did you hear about the excitement in the garden behind the Dahlias’ clubhouse last night?” Myra May asked when they had all piled into the car and were driving off.
    “Excitement?” Lizzy asked, startled. “No! What was it? Is everything okay?”
    “Somebody was digging in the back garden, under the cucumber tree,” Myra May said. “The ladies at the Magnolia Manor heard it and they all got up to see what was going on. Bessie Bloodworth took her shotgun out there and actually shot at him.”
    “Shot at him!” Verna exclaimed.
    “Right. She meant to shoot over his head, but she thought she might’ve hit him, according to Miss Rogers. She’s the one who told me the story.” Myra May giggled. “Would you believe? This fellow was dressed up like the Cartwright ghost.”
    “Well, my goodness,” Verna said. She shook her head, frowning. “Who would have done such a thing? And why? Do you suppose it was the escaped convict?”
    “Could’ve been, I suppose,” Myra May replied. “That’s what Miss Rogers thinks, anyway.”
    “But why?” Verna persisted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
    “We’ll have to get Bessie to tell us all about it,” Lizzy said. “No word about the convict yet?”
    “Nope,” Myra May said. “It’s as if he’s dropped off the face of the earth.”
    “And Alice Ann?” Verna asked, concerned. “She hasn’t been arrested yet, I hope. Have you heard anything about the situation at the bank?”
    “I heard Mr. Johnson talking to the bank examiner,” Myra May said soberly. “They’re still looking for evidence. Alice Ann has been warned not to leave town.”
    “As if she would,” Lizzy said. And with that, they settled in for the ride to Monroeville.
    Route 12 took them to Route 47, through the village of Mexia and into town on West Claiborne Street. Monroeville, the county seat for Monroe County, was the major market town for the whole area, and anything that couldn’t be bought in Darling was sure to be found in one of the Monroeville stores. Around the square were the First National Bank (“The Only National Bank in Monroe County”), the Monroe County Bank (“Promoting the Progress of Monroe County”), the U.S. Post Office, the Commercial Hotel, the office of the Manistee & Repton Railroad Company, the Monroe Journal building, Dawson’s Drugs, and a dry goods store. In the center of the square: a grand brick courthouse, a twin of the one on Darling’s courthouse square, with a large white-painted dome and a clock.
    “Well, ladies,” Myra May asked as they came into town, “where do we start? Sounds to me like we have a long list of things to do.”
    Myra was right. On the way over from Darling, they had gone over all the questions that needed answers, and Verna had jotted them all down.
    Which of the stories about Bunny is true? Was she really her widowed mother’s only child or the abandoned daughter of a runaway mother?
    Fred Harper’s brother (Dr. Wayne Harper, a dentist) owns the green Pontiac that Bunny was supposed to have stolen. Did he know Bunny? Did he take the photo of her sitting on his car in her teddy?
    Did Imogene Rutledge have anything to do with the money