The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

“Well, it’s something to think about,” Mr. Moseley said. “I have to drive up to Montgomery tomorrow. If you’d like to go with me, I could call Mr. Jackman and set up an interview.” He wore a very serious look. “I’m not urging you to do this, Liz. But if you want to get out of town while this affair is fresh in people’s minds—and on their tongues—this is a good way to do it. It would be an opportunity for you, professionally speaking.” He chuckled shortly. “God knows, there’s not much opportunity around here. And there won’t be, if Delta Charter leaves the table.”


Lizzy wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and the idea of professional opportunity didn’t hold much appeal, since she was satisfied with the job she had. But she thought of the ordeal of meeting people who knew about her and Grady. She thought of Mrs. Alexander and her mother, who would never stop berating her about her failure to get married. And Grady and his bride, living in the Harrison house. She knew she was brave, but still—

“Well,” she said slowly, “if you’re driving up there tomorrow, I suppose I could go with you. If you don’t mind my missing a day’s work, that is.”

“Of course not,” he said, and grinned widely. “Tell you what. I’ll get Jackman’s number and you can put in a call to—”

He was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone on Lizzy’s desk. “We’re on our lunch hour,” he said. “Let it ring. Whoever it is can call back.”

But Lizzy, who was grateful for the interruption, smiled and lifted the receiver. “Law offices,” she said briskly.

“Miss Lizzy?” a breathless voice said. “Miz Lizzy, is that you? It’s me, Sally-Lou. Mr. Johnson needs some help and he’s askin’ me to call. He says he wants Mr. Moseley to come over. Right now.”

“Help?” Lizzy frowned. “What kind of help does he need?”

“He don’ like me to say on the phone. Jes’ get Mr. Moseley to come. Quick as he can.” The connection was broken.

Lizzy replaced the receiver in the cradle. “That was Sally-Lou, the Johnson’s maid. Mr. Johnson wants you to go over there right now. She says he needs your help, but he doesn’t want to say why over the phone.”

“It’s probably that codicil he’s been putting off.” Mr. Moseley got up and went to get his suit jacket from the hook on the wall. “That’s the way the man operates, I’m afraid. He puts everything off until the last minute, and then it has to be done yesterday. He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, though. I don’t suppose I should criticize.” He glanced at his watch. “You come, too, Liz, and bring your steno notebook. If you take his dictation, we can get this little job finished up before Charlie Dickens shows up for that interview.” He shrugged into his jacket. “Lock up here, and we’ll go in my car.”

“Yes, sir,” Lizzy said crisply. She reached for her notebook and pen and tucked them into her pocketbook. Taking dictation was something she knew how to do. If Mr. Jackman tested her on it tomorrow, she was confident that she would do well.

*

Mr. and Mrs. George E. Pickett Johnson lived on one of the best streets in the oldest section of Darling, just a few blocks from the courthouse square. The street was lined on both sides by leafy green trees whose branches met in the center, and the wide lawns were spread like green shawls in front of the elegant, well-kept houses. Nothing was new here, but it was all beautifully maintained, even in these difficult years.

There wasn’t much in the way of a Darling aristocracy, but if there were, Voleen and George Johnson would have been it. They counted their friends among the town’s professional people—its three lawyers, Judge McHenry and Judge Andrews, Dr. Roberts (Darling’s only physician), and the president of the Darling Academy—several of whom lived within one or two blocks of their elegant, plantation-style white house. They entertained regularly, and lavishly, at least by Darling standards. Mr. Johnson drove the latest model automobile, and Mrs. Johnson had a sumptuous garden of white flowers, maintained by her colored gardener.

Mr. Moseley parked in the circular drive that led up to the wide veranda, and as they got out, Lizzy saw that the front walk and steps were splashed with dark red paint, and the bushes in front of the house were trampled.