The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

Caught again, Purley nodded, and his eyes filled with sudden tears. “He said it was the right thing, and it was the lawful thing. It was sinful for me to make whiskey out there for Mickey, and I was breakin’ the law. I could go to jail for whut I done. The only way to wipe the black mark off my soul was to help him shut it down.”


Al clenched his fists. Kinnard had broken no law when he coerced Baby Mann to betray his friends and family. But what Kinnard had done was wrong, and that wrong had led to a worse one: a young boy’s death. If he ever got a chance, he was going to let this fellow Kinnard know exactly how he felt.

“So that’s why I done it.” Purley squared his shoulders and met Al’s eyes. “I told Mr. Kinnard where to find Mickey’s still.” The tears were spilling over now, running down his cheeks, and his mouth twisted. “But I swear to God I didn’t know there’d be shootin’, or that young Rider would catch a bullet. If I’d a know’d that, I never would never’ve done it, Mr. Duffy. Never, never.”

Purley dissolved into sobs, his shoulders shaking. Al came around the desk then, and put his arms around the boy, holding him as if he were his own son. After a little while, Purley quieted and Al stepped back.

“Whut do I do now?” Purley asked, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Whut do I do?”

“Well,” Al said, “I think if it was me, I’d tell my dad.”

“No, sir.” Purley shook his head quickly. “He’ll beat me.”

“I’ll go with you,” Al said, and added, with a wry grin, “He won’t beat you as long as I’m there. And he’s a fair man. After he’s had a chance to think about it for a little while, he’ll see that you did what you thought in your heart was right and lawful. He’ll stand up for you to folks who might not be so forgiving.”

“Like the LeDoux boys.” Purley sounded resigned. “Thank you,” he said humbly. He put one hand on the satchel. “I’m glad I brung it back.”

“So am I, Purley,” Al said, and went to the hat rack for his hat. “Come on. Let’s go see your dad.”





SIXTEEN


Verna and Aunt Hetty Make a Visit



When Verna got back to the office, she put in a telephone call to Aunt Hetty Little to ask the question that was on her mind. After a moment’s thought, Aunt Hetty agreed that Verna’s idea had possibilities, and offered a suggestion. Five minutes after that, Aunt Hetty called back to say that she had made the appointment and would be ready to go whenever Verna could get away.

“I hope you know that this is a long shot,” she added.

“At this point,” Verna said with a sigh, “they’re all long shots. But it’s the only thing I can think of. Mr. Duffy says he’s run out of options.”

Telling Sherrie and Melba Jean that she was leaving to do some development work for the county (the very truth!), Verna hurried home to get her car, the sporty 1928 red LaSalle two-seater she had bought, used, the summer before. It was her first car, and she loved driving it, especially on a pretty day—like today—when she could fold the top back.

Aunt Hetty was waiting on her front porch, wearing a white straw sailor hat, a white cotton dress printed with little pink and blue flowers, white gloves, and her summer white shoes.

“You look like you’re going to visit the queen,” Verna said, as Aunt Hetty got into the car.

Aunt Hetty grinned. “Exactly.” At Verna’s mystified look, she added, “You’ll see when we get there.” She looked up. “Mercy, Verna, your car is missing its roof! What do you do when it rains?”