The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

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Whatever Roger’s motive for staying away, he hadn’t yet returned by the time Lizzy and Verna arrived at the Kilgores’ house in the sporty 1928 red LaSalle two-seater Verna had bought, used, to celebrate her promotion to acting county treasurer. Lizzy had lashed her bicycle behind the rumble seat so she would have a way to get around the next day, and they had both brought clothes for the weekend. Riding in the LaSalle was an adventure, because Verna had only recently learned to drive and Lizzy had to hang on for dear life as Verna rounded corners and dashed down straightaways at frightening speeds. As they raced down the last three blocks to the Kilgores’ house, Lizzy dared a glance at the speedometer and shuddered to see that it registered 35 miles per hour. (Of course, she reminded herself, Grady drove fast—but he knew how to drive!)

It had rained again that evening, and the music of the summer cicadas was loud in the velvety darkness as Lizzy and Verna got their bags out of the car, walked up the path to the house, and knocked at the door. Mildred, looking pale and tense but composed, showed them upstairs to their bedroom, which was adjacent to Miss Dare’s and across the hall from Miss Flame’s. She turned on the overhead light.

“The ladies aren’t back yet,” she said, “but I imagine they’ll be along shortly.” She opened a door. “This is your closet. That other door”—she pointed—“opens into Miss Dare’s room. You can bolt it on this side, and she can bolt it on her side, as well. The master bedroom is at the far end of the hall. Melody’s bedroom is next to ours, but she’s staying with one of her cousins this weekend. The bathroom is on the other side of the hall, next to Miss Flame’s room. There are fresh towels on your beds.”

“A very pretty room,” Verna said approvingly. There was cream-colored wainscot and pink wallpaper on the walls, twin beds covered in ruffled pink coverlets, and a pink and cream braided rug on the floor. A small cream-colored rocking chair sat beside the open window, which was dressed up in crisscross curtains of pink marquisette and pink window blinds. “Isn’t it, Liz?”

“It’s lovely,” Lizzy said, although to her way of thinking, there was a bit too much pink. “We’ll try our best not to put you to any trouble, Mildred. Verna has to work tomorrow, of course. But Mr. Moseley gave me the day off, so I’m available to help with the party preparations—until the afternoon, anyway, when I’ll be working in the Dahlias’ garden and taking care of last-minute festival stuff.”

Mildred nodded. “And Miss Dare’s plans?” Her voice was carefully neutral.

“She said she would spend the day at the airfield,” Lizzy said. “They’re giving rides—well, selling rides.” She smiled. “A penny a pound, according to the fliers.”

Mildred seemed relieved, and Lizzy knew why. If Miss Dare was working, she wouldn’t be with Roger. She said nothing at all about the reason for Liz’s and Verna’s overnight surveillance, if that’s what it could be called. Lizzy didn’t either.

“Well, then, I’ll see you at breakfast,” Mildred said. “It’s been a long day and I’m very tired. I’m going to bed as soon as the ladies get back from the movie.” As if on cue, there were voices downstairs, and a woman’s laughter. “Oh, there they are,” she said, sounding relieved. “Well, I’ll say good night.”

She left, closing the door behind her. Lizzy watched her go, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Mildred’s manner seemed strained and oddly disconcerting, with an unusual tension that was unlike her usual self-possessed calm. It reminded her uncomfortably of their conversation that afternoon, and she felt a ripple of apprehension.

Verna did not appear to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. She turned on the lamp between the beds and turned off the overhead light. “Now that we’re here, I feel a little silly,” she remarked, sitting down on one of the beds. She took out a package of Pall Malls and lit one, dropping the match into the ceramic ashtray—in the shape of a pink donkey—beside the lamp. “All this seems so . . . normal.” She gestured around the room. “You don’t really think there’s any serious threat against Miss Dare, do you?”