The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady

“If you’re bringing a suspect in, you might need backup.” Wayne cocked an eyebrow. “Want me to come with you?”


Personally, Buddy would have been glad of the backup, but there were other things to consider. He shook his head. “Better you stay here and keep the radio on, Wayne. Last time we had a big storm blow through, maybe seven, eight years ago, Pine Mill Creek came up and flooded half the town. The sheriff and the mayor teamed up to make sure people were okay, so we’ll be doing that again. The Exchange has a list of old folks to call and find out if they need any help. The Methodist church basement is a good place for people who don’t feel good about staying in their houses. If the mayor stops in while I’m gone, tell him we’ll do whatever we can if things get bad.”

Wayne nodded. “Maybe you could also check with the head man out at the camp. There are a lot of young guys out there who could give us a hand if we need them. And we might, if there’s much flooding.”

“Good idea,” Buddy said, thinking that—whether it was smart planning or just plain luck—he had hired a deputy who had his head on straight. “Actually, I’m supposed to have dinner with that guy tonight, over at Verna Tidwell’s house. Campbell, his name is. Captain Campbell.”

Wayne smacked the side of his head with his hand. “Damn,” he said. “I knew I should have written it down. Miz Tidwell called just before you got back from talking to Miz Hart. Tonight’s dinner is off, because of the storm. She’ll let you know when it’s rescheduled.”

“Just my luck,” Buddy said ruefully, reaching for his black rubber raincoat. “I lived next door to that woman when I was growing up. Nobody in the world makes a better chicken pot pie.”





SIXTEEN


Charlie Dickens Meets Mata Hari and Is Enlightened



The sun had been shining fitfully when Charlie went home for lunch. An hour later, when he walked across the street to the sheriff’s office, the clouds were piling up in the southwest. By the time he got in his car to drive out of town to meet his informant, the air was so sultry and heavy with heat and humidity that it was difficult to breathe, and the sunlight seemed to have been leached from the sky. The storm clouds now filled the southern horizon, and lightning lanced from one towering thunderhead to another. It was going to rain before long, he guessed, and rain hard.

The abandoned schoolhouse where Charlie had agreed to meet Mata Hari was some seven miles west of town, on Loblolly Road. The narrow, rutted dirt road had once led to a sawmill down by the river, but the area had been logged over, and the sawmill, too, was abandoned. The one-room school had never enrolled more than a couple of dozen students at one time and had been closed seven or eight years before, when Cypress County created a consolidated school district.