The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

Lizzy could picture Miss Dare rolling her eyes. “How the hell should I know who wrote it? The damn thing wasn’t signed. She said there were two of them, but she got rid of the first one. She also had a photograph of you and me together—a compromising photograph, I should add. It was taken when we were eating at that café in the French Quarter. She was delighted to shove my nose in it. She didn’t show it to you?”


“She’s bawling her head off,” Roger said thickly. “Got a washcloth over her face. Won’t talk to me. Keeps saying I have to talk to you, that you know all about it.”

“Well, maybe we’d better talk in the morning when you’re sober,” Miss Dare said. “And when your wife has stopped crying. There’s some business the three of us have to settle.”

“The three of us?” Roger asked warily. “I don’t think so. Whatever it is, let’s leave Mildred out of it. But first—” His voice dropped. “Com’ere, sweetheart. We’ve got other fish to fry.” The bed creaked. Clark Gable was making his move. “Gimme a kiss, babe.”

There was a silence, a long silence.

Lizzy pressed her ear to the door. It wasn’t hard to imagine what was happening on the other side. She had seen Miss Dare in action twice before: kissing Roger and kissing Charlie. Only this time, the woman was wearing . . . what? A filmy negligee? Lizzy closed her eyes, but the image stayed with her. Miss Dare in a clingy nightgown that concealed none of her personal assets, Roger Kilgore kissing her, his hands all over her body, his mouth on hers. For some odd reason, Lizzy thought of Grady and her own mouth went dry. And then she thought of Grady and DeeDee Davis and—

“Cut it out, Roger,” Miss Dare said firmly. “I’m not in the mood.” The bed creaked again, as if she had pushed him away and gotten up. “If you want to settle our business now, you can start by telling me about the blackmail. Nine hundred dollars was what she said.”

“Can it, Lily,” Roger snapped. “You want more? Forget it. You’ve got every nickel you’re going to get from me. There’s nothing left. Nothing.” He didn’t sound drunk now. He sounded angry.

There was a silence. Then, “What are you talking about, Roger?” Miss Dare asked, sounding genuinely baffled. “I don’t understand. What is all this crap about money?”

“You damn well know what it is,” Roger said roughly. “It’s about those telegrams you sent me. You said you were desperate for cash and I was the only one you could turn to, and I believed you. You said you loved me and I was fool enough to—”

“By golly,” Verna whispered. “He did do it for love! What an idiot.”

Roger was going on. “Mildred says it was blackmail, but I don’t agree. I didn’t think you were threatening me. I just thought you needed money.”

“But I didn’t!” Miss Dare said hotly. “I mean, I always need money. But I didn’t ask you for any. And I didn’t say I loved you and wanted—” She stopped. “I mean, I do love you, sweetie, heart and soul, honest Injun, cross my heart and hope to die. But I never sent you any telegrams asking for money. And I never got a cent from you. Not one red cent!”

“But if she didn’t ask for it,” Lizzy whispered, puzzled, “who did?”

“Yes,” Verna said. “That’s the question, isn’t it? And if it wasn’t blackmail, it was extortion. Somebody was using her name—fraudulently.” Then, true to her habit of looking under every rock, she added, “But maybe she’s lying. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Roger seemed to think so, too. “You’re lying, Lily. And I’ve got your signature on those checks to prove it.”

“I don’t know who the hell signed those checks,” Miss Dare said grimly, “but it sure wasn’t me. I didn’t know the first thing about them until your precious little wifey started waving that letter under my nose and screaming like a banshee.”

“You could at least be respectful,” Roger replied in an ominous tone. “Mildred hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Oh, she hasn’t, has she?” Miss Dare hooted. “Be respectful—after that little witch popped me in the eye? See this? If you think it looks bad now, just you wait until tomorrow. I’m going to have a pretty purple shiner. And when people ask me where I got it, I’ll tell them that your battle-ax—”

“Don’t you call Mildred names,” Roger said, low and hard. “She’s twice the woman you are. You took my money and—”

“But I didn’t take your money!” Miss Dare cried petulantly. “You big sap! You don’t have the sense God gave a billy goat! You’ve been played for a sucker. Somebody rolled you for a wad of dough and you think you can blame me for it. Well, I’ll show you. I’ll—”

“Shut up,” Roger snarled. “You just shut your mouth!” The bed creaked again as if he had gotten up. Lizzy heard a scuffling noise, then heavy breathing and more scuffling.

“Ouch!” Miss Dare gave an injured whimper. “Stop twisting my arm, you big bully. If you don’t lay off, I’m going to—”

There was the loud sound of a fist striking flesh.

Verna straightened up. “He’s beating on her! Liz, we have to—” She started for the door, Liz at her heels. But once again, they were too late.