The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

This time, Verna was able to get through to the rental office, but the news she heard wasn’t good. “The tents apparently went north,” she reported gloomily, putting the phone down. “For some mysterious reason, the railroad shipped them to Indianapolis.” She made a face. “They’re not sure they can get them back here by tomorrow evening.”


“Well, if we have to, we can manage without the tents, I guess,” Lizzy said slowly. “As long as it doesn’t rain.” Of course, if it rained, there would be more difficulties. If the flying circus got to Darling, could they fly in the rain? She paused. “Have you heard anything about the carnival?”

“I ran into Mr. Trice yesterday. He says it’s on the way. Cross your fingers.” She frowned. “There’s nothing we can do about those tents, so I suppose there’s no point in worrying. But I wonder how they happened to end up in Indianapolis, instead of here. Seems suspicious to me.”

“Everything seems suspicious to you, Verna,” Lizzy replied, rising from her chair. “But there might be something we can do. Mr. Moseley gave me the rest of the day off. I’ll go back to the office and phone around and see if I can find another supplier. Just in case.”

But Lizzy didn’t get back to the office right away. After all, she had finished her “Garden Gate” column and she had the rest of the day off. As she came out of the courthouse, she paused on the steps for a moment, hearing a rumble of thunder and putting her hand up to settle her yellow straw hat against possible gusts. The air was sultry and heavy with heat and humidity, and to the northwest, the sky was beginning to fill with dark clouds. They could certainly use the rain, Lizzy thought, glancing at the annuals—marigolds, zinnias, strawflowers, and dusty millers—that the Dahlias had planted around the courthouse. They looked a little dry and wilted. And if it was going to rain, better that it rained on Thursday than on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday—especially if those tents didn’t show up!

On this hot and muggy July morning, the streets around the courthouse square were busy, as usual. Deputy Buddy Norris, on his red Indian Ace motorcycle, swung around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of the Darling Diner, raising a fishtail of dust on the dusty street. He parked next to a string of cars in front of the diner. Lizzy spotted Toomy LeGrand’s truck and the Newmans’ Nash. Toomy and Hank Newman, who were brothers-in-law, were probably having lunch.

Lizzy glanced at her watch. Maybe she should go to lunch now, and see for herself whether the new cook that Donna Sue had told her about was really that good.

“Hey, Liz!”

Hearing her name, Lizzy looked across Franklin Street to see Charlie Dickens standing in front of the Dispatch office, his big leather camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a blue and white striped seersucker suit and a straw fedora tipped to the back of his head. He waved at her, and she crossed the street.

“Glad I saw you, Liz,” he said. “I phoned upstairs to your office but didn’t get any answer. I’ve got some good news. Lily Dare is on her way to Darling and is due to land in the next half hour. Looks like the air show is going to come off after all.”

“That is a relief!” Lizzy exclaimed. “I’ll go call Mildred Kilgore and let her know that her guest is arriving. What about the others? Rex Hart and that aerialist? Are they flying in today, too?”

“A little later in the day,” Charlie replied. “The rest of the team is driving in. But I’ve already called the Kilgores—I figured they’d like to know right away.” He hitched his camera bag higher on his shoulder. “I’m driving out to the airfield now. I want to get some pictures.”

“Okay if I go with you?” Lizzy asked eagerly. “Mr. Moseley is out of town. He gave me the rest of the day off, so I’m free.” She was dying to meet the fastest woman in the world, the beautiful, sexy woman who had tantalized Charlie Dickens and wormed her way into the heart (or at least the pocketbook) of Roger Kilgore.

Charlie eyed her. “Did you talk to Mildred Kilgore about . . . you know. What we discussed on Tuesday?”

“I told her what you said about the sabotage,” Lizzy said. “And that there had been some sort of . . . well, threat. Mildred agreed that it might be a good idea if I stayed at her house. I’m to have the room next to Miss Dare’s.” She paused, wishing that she could tell Charlie about those letters—and the compromising photograph, and the checks Roger Kilgore had written to Lily Dare. But she had promised Mildred, so she couldn’t.

“Oh, and Verna Tidwell has agreed to stay with me,” she added. “Between the two of us, we ought to be able to keep an eye on the situation and make sure that nothing happens.”

“Good,” Charlie said. “Yeah. Come on out to the airfield with me, Liz. It’s time you met Lily Dare.”





TEN




The Fastest Woman in the World