The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree

“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 problem at the Darling bank? Could she have taken the money Alice Ann is suspected of taking?

Scanning the list with a critical eye, Verna thought it seemed pretty silly and amateurish and doubted that Miss Silver would approve. It wasn’t very likely that Dr. Harper would tell them anything about Bunny (if there was anything to tell), and it was altogether unlikely that Imogene Rutledge would even condescend to speak to them, much less give them any real information. Why should she—especially if it incriminated her? And would anybody tell them anything if all three of them marched up to the person and began clamoring for information?

But then she had an idea. Instead of all three of them trying to answer all three questions at once, why not split up? She was the one who was most interested in Bunny’s background—she could look into that. Lizzy had brought the photo of Bunny sitting on the car, so she could talk to Dr. Harper. And Myra May had already spoken to Miss Rogers about Imogene Rutledge (at Aunt Hetty Little’s suggestion), so she could look up Miss Rutledge.

“Well, what do you think?” Verna asked, when she had proposed this division of responsibilities.

“Sounds good to me,” Myra May replied with a little laugh. “I have a very good reason to knock on Miss Rutledge’s door. I want to see her face when I tell her that Miss Rogers sent met.”

Lizzy tilted her head to one side. “You know, I’ve done some reporting for the Dispatch. I could pretend to be on assignment from the newspaper, interviewing Dr. Harper for a human-interest piece on the theft of that car. That would give me a reason for having the photograph. I wonder how he’ll respond to it.”

“And I’ll see if I can track down Bunny’s old neighbors,” Verna said. “I’ll start at the drugstore. She used to work there.” She looked at her watch. “Two hours? Will that be long enough, do you think?”

“If we can’t find out something in two hours,” Myra May replied firmly, “we’re not going to find it out at all.”

“You’re probably right,” Verna said. “How about meeting at Buzz’s Barbeque for supper when we’re done? It’s just down the street, across from the railroad depot.”

“Or we could eat in the Commercial Hotel,” Lizzy put in. “It’s a little more ... civilized, maybe.”