The Darling Dahlias and the Confederate Rose

“Money trouble. Thousands and thousands of dollars worth of trouble.”


“Thousands?” Lizzy croaked, shocked. From what Verna had told her, she was aware that some amount seemed to be missing from the county treasury. But she had no idea how much. Thousands? That was real money. All of a sudden, Verna’s plight became more real, and much more frightening.

Myra May was nodding. “Violet and I . . . well, we overheard several telephone conversations over the weekend.” She held up her hand. “I know, I know. We’re not supposed to listen in, and mostly we don’t. But once Violet heard how much money was involved and connected it with Verna’s office, we felt we had to. Now, I’m not sure what to do, whether I should tell Verna or—”

“Of course you should tell me,” Verna said indignantly, pushing the closet door open and stepping out. “I need to know, Myra May. I have a right to know!”

Myra May jerked around. “You were hiding, Verna!” she said in an accusing tone. “You were listening. You were eavesdropping!”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Verna muttered darkly.

“Verna came here because she wanted to get Mr. Moseley’s advice about something that’s been bothering her,” Lizzy explained in a soothing tone. “When she heard you coming up the stairs, she thought you might be somebody she didn’t want to see.”

“Then she went into the closet so she could eavesdrop,” Myra May said reproachfully.

“Not exactly,” Verna replied. She pulled another chair forward and sat down. “But now that I’ve heard it, I want to know everything you know, Myra May. And I want to know now. So spill those beans.”

Myra May became sympathetic. “I’m sure you do, Verna, and I don’t blame you one bit. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to know it, too. The trouble is, I don’t know what you can do about it.”

“Well, we won’t know what we can or can’t do until you tell us what you know,” Lizzy pointed out, trying not to sound impatient. “Come on, Myra May. Now’s the time. Tell.”

And for the next few minutes, Myra May told, while Verna listened in growing disbelief and Lizzy shook her head, clucking her tongue softly.

“Fifteen thousand,” Verna said numbly. “I knew things were a mess in the treasurer’s office, but I had no idea the mess was that big.” She swallowed. “Fifteen thousand?” she repeated. “And they’re talking about restitution? That’s crazy, Myra May! I see the account books every week. The county doesn’t have that kind of money. It’s barely got enough to make the payroll.”

“By restitution,” Lizzy said gently, “they probably meant that the thief—whoever it is—will have to give it back.”

“And you said that Amos Tombull wanted to get the sheriff to investigate—” Verna began.

“But Earle Scroggins didn’t,” Myra May broke in. “Which I couldn’t figure out.” She frowned. “You’d think Mr. Scroggins would want to get to the bottom of it right away, wouldn’t you? Maybe he doesn’t trust Sheriff Burns to handle the investigation.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.” Lizzy giggled. “Mr. Moseley always says that Sheriff Burns couldn’t investigate his way out of a paper bag.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Or maybe Mr. Scroggins just doesn’t want to look bad. Maybe he thinks he can figure out what happened and take care of it himself without anybody else finding out.”

“I think you’ve put your finger on it, Liz,” Verna said grimly. “Remember, he didn’t want Charlie Dickens getting wind of it. If people read in the newspaper that fifteen thousand dollars is missing from the treasurer’s office, they might blame Mr. Scroggins and refuse to reelect him. And the thing that man wants most in life is to win every election right up to the moment he keels over dead.” She smacked her fist against the arm of her chair. “Now I have fifteen thousand reasons to get started on my investigation—tonight!”

Myra May gave her a quizzical glance. “Investigation?”

Verna pulled herself up importantly. “I have a copy of the key to the office, Myra May. Tonight, after it gets dark, I’m going to have a look at those account books myself. I made notes while the auditor was doing his work. I’m sure I can figure out where that money went. And you mentioned that the state auditor is sending a report to the office. Maybe I can get a look at that. I might even be able to copy the pertinent information from it.”

“Uh-oh,” Myra May said softly, ducking her head.

Verna and Liz traded uneasy glances. “Uh-oh?” they asked in unison.

“Yeah.” Myra May sighed. “There’s one thing I forgot to tell you. When Mr. Scroggins called Coretta Cole to ask her to come in and manage the office while you are taking a furlough, he said he was getting the locks changed. He would be giving her a new key.”