The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

More than that, she was deeply ashamed that she had learned this intimate information in such a devious and underhanded way. She didn’t think she could spend an entire evening with the man without confessing to her guilty knowledge and admitting that she had surreptitiously asked someone—several someones, actually—to look into his personal history. When he found out, he would be so angry that he would never speak to her again. And she would deserve it, too, every bit. Her snooping was, to put it bluntly, reprehensible.

But she still needed to know about the bank—what he was doing to resolve Darling’s precarious situation, and where he was looking for somebody who could buy up 50 percent of the stock in the bank. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt she might know someone who could help—it was a slim chance, certainly, and probably wouldn’t pan out. But what if he didn’t have any better prospects, or any prospects at all? She had to talk to him about this, but not over dinner. It would be better to discuss it at the office, where they weren’t so likely to lapse into a personal conversation.

“I’m afraid I’ve already made other plans for this evening,” she replied in a level tone. “But as I remember, you’re bringing the scrip to the courthouse this afternoon, so we can get it into Friday’s payroll envelopes. So I’ll see you then.”

He turned his mouth down. “There’s been a delay,” he said gruffly. “Charlie Dickens claims he printed it up but now he can’t find it. It seems to have just . . . disappeared. He thinks he’ll have it reprinted in time for your Friday payroll, but I can’t promise. I’m sorry. I am really sorry.”

He looked up at Myra May, who had come back to their end of the counter and was waiting to take his order. “I’ll have the special, please. And coffee.”

“The scrip disappeared?” Verna asked in surprise. “How? Who—” She pulled in her breath, suddenly aware of the consequences. “But that means no payroll!” Not only for the county employees, but the sawmill and the bottling plant as well.

“I wish I could tell you for sure that it will be ready tomorrow,” Mr. Duffy said, sounding resigned. “It depends on whether the paper supplier can get the paper on the Greyhound bus—and whether the bus actually gets to Darling. Maybe we can make it, maybe not.”

“I’m not sure I heard that right.” Myra May filled a white china mug with coffee and slid it across the counter. “What’s that you were saying about the scrip?”

“It’s disappeared,” Mr. Duffy said flatly. “Dickens doesn’t have the ghost of an idea where it might have gone. He claims he—”

“What does it look like?” Myra May asked. “This stuff you’re talking about. Scrip, or whatever.”

Verna chuckled ironically. “It doesn’t look like money, I’m willing to bet. It looks like—”

“It looks like this,” Mr. Duffy said, taking a paper out of his jacket pocket. “These are the designs I gave Charlie Dickens, so he could print them up. Each denomination is on a different color paper—yellow, red, purple, green—although I couldn’t tell you what colors he used for which.” He frowned at Myra May. “Why are you asking?”

“Because this morning, a customer gave me this.” Myra May reached into the apron pocket where she kept the currency the diner took in during the day, and pulled out a yellow piece of paper. It was a little smaller than a dollar bill, with the words DARLING DOLLARS printed across the middle, and $1 printed in each of the four corners. She put it on the counter. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“That’s it!” Mr. Duffy exclaimed, picking it up and turning it over in his fingers. “How did you get it?”

“Pete Starkey—you know, from Pete’s Pool Parlor—came in for breakfast, the way he usually does. Two eggs over easy, sausage, fried potatoes. When it was time to pay up, he said he didn’t have any cash on him, so he gave me this. Said it was as good as money, and now that the bank is closed, it’s all the money we’re likely to have for a while. I took it because I’d heard that something like this was going to be issued later this week. I just figured it had already been put out there and somebody forgot to tell me.”