The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

“I’m afraid I do,” Lizzy said ruefully, thinking about the woman’s many enemies—including their hostess. “And as Miss Marple might say, there’s a difference between what seems and what is.”


She pulled the window shade down, then opened her bag and took out the red print blouse and slacks she planned to wear the next day, as well as the gray silk dress for the party. She carried them to the closet and hung them up, then put her underthings and stockings in the top drawer of the bureau beside the window, taking special care with the chiffon-weight silk stockings with the French heels that she had bought especially for the party, for the unreasonable price of a dollar forty-nine a pair. The stockings were folded in tissue paper, to protect them from snags.

“But I don’t think anything is likely to happen here,” she added, over her shoulder. “If there’s trouble, it will probably be out at the airfield, with the airplanes. That’s why Charlie is staying out there tonight, with Mr. Hart.” She paused, frowning. “Although—”

There were footsteps and women’s voices outside in the hallway, and the sound of doors closing, first one, then another. In a moment, Lizzy heard a window being raised in the adjoining room.

“Although what?” Verna asked. She picked up the ashtray and swung her stockinged feet onto the bed, propping herself up against the headboard with a pillow. “Don’t keep things to yourself, Liz. If there’s something important, I ought to know it—oughtn’t I?”

It was a good question. Verna already knew about the airplane sabotage, but Lizzy had actually been thinking that perhaps she ought to tell her about the other things—the anonymous letters, the checks, the uncomfortable and perhaps perilous triangle involving Roger, Mildred, and Miss Dare. Yes, she had promised Mildred she would keep those things confidential. But Mildred’s comments that afternoon, as well as her manner just now, were definitely disturbing. And there was that odd business between Angel Flame and Miss Dare after lunch at the diner. It wasn’t likely that something was going to happen here, tonight. But if it did, and if Verna understood what was going on, she would know better how to respond.

Verna listened intently to Lizzy’s complicated story, smoking in silence. When she had finished, Verna let out her breath, and a stream of blue smoke. “I had no idea,” she said softly. “Miss Dare certainly has her share of enemies, doesn’t she? Sabotage is one thing. But kidnapping?”

“I think Charlie went a little overboard on that,” Lizzie said. “But I heard on the radio tonight that there was a kidnapping in Mobile yesterday—the wife of a local grocery store owner. The crooks were asking three thousand dollars, but she tricked them and got away.” She sighed. “It seems to be happening everywhere.”

Verna was thinking about something else. “I wonder what’s going on between Miss Dare and Angel Flame—jealousy, maybe? Could be personal, could be professional. And we don’t know much about Rex Hart. How do you think he fits into this?”

Lizzy frowned. “Charlie thinks he may have had something to do with the sabotage, especially since both attempts seem to have been made by someone who knows something about airplanes. But Miss Dare refused to answer any questions about him. She told Charlie to leave him out of it.”

“Mmm,” Verna said thoughtfully, and stubbed out her cigarette. “Do you suppose Rex Hart wrote those anonymous letters?”

Lizzy hadn’t thought of that possibility. She cocked her head on one side, considering. “The letter I saw was written in purple ink on pink paper. Mildred said that the handwriting was a woman’s, but now that I think about it, I’m not sure. It could have been a man’s—and I suppose a man could have used that paper and ink, especially if he wanted to make the letter look as if it were written by a woman.” She frowned. “But what motive would Rex Hart have?”

Verna shrugged. “Maybe he’s jealous of Roger Kilgore and hoped that Mildred would tell her husband to drop Miss Dare or else. Or maybe he was trying to push Mildred to the point where she would make serious trouble for Miss Dare. And then of course, there’s the blackmail. Maybe—”

“Blackmail?” Lizzy asked blankly. “What blackmail?”

Verna frowned at her. “Really, Lizzy. Haven’t you thought through this at all? Those checks Roger wrote. It sounds to me as if Miss Dare has been blackmailing him. Threatening to reveal their relationship if he didn’t pay up.”

Lizzy blinked. “Really, Verna, I don’t think I—”

“Come on, Liz, think,” Verna broke in urgently. “Why else would he be paying her? I’ve had several dealings with Roger Kilgore in the probate clerk’s office. The man is by no means a pushover. I seriously doubt that he would fork over nine hundred bucks out of the goodness of his heart.”