The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady

“Yeah,” Sarah said and pulled a book out of the satchel on the floor. “Nancy Drew. Miss Rogers got it for me at the library.” She held it up. “The Secret of Red Gate Farm.”


“Oh, good,” Ophelia said. Grown-up that she was, she enjoyed reading the Nancy Drew books, and she always reached for them when Sarah was finished. “What’s it about?”

“Nancy, Bess, and George are conducting an undercover investigation to get the scoop on a counterfeit money ring and turn the information over to federal agents. I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next—looks like Nancy is about to be captured by the counterfeiters.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “Maybe they’ll torture her to get her to give up the secret code she stole.”

An undercover investigation? Ophelia was startled, since those were the same words—the very same!—that Charlie had used to describe the assignment he had given her. It was unsettling to hear that Nancy Drew, who was usually so astute and careful, had gone undercover and was about to be captured. And tortured? Surely not. She frowned. Anyway, that was a story, just fiction. It had nothing at all to do with real life. Still, maybe there was more to this undercover stuff than she had thought. Maybe—

Ophelia pushed the thought away, opened the door, and got out of the car, taking her large handbag with her. “I won’t be too long, Sarah. Please wait for me here. And don’t leave the car,” she added through the open window. She trusted her daughter, but she knew that the baseball game might be tempting.

“I won’t,” Sarah said, opening her book. “I want to see if Nancy actually gets captured. It’s kind of scary, actually. These counterfeiters are dangerous people. If Nancy can get the goods on them, it’ll shoot down their whole operation, so they’ve got a lot at stake. She’ll have to be careful.”

And for the first time, Ophelia (an optimistic person who liked to look on the bright side of things) thought of the dangers she might face—and the consequences—if somebody caught her doing what Charlie had asked her to do. She felt a cold knot of apprehension, almost of fear, tightening somewhere deep inside, and she shivered. She hadn’t thought of it before, but she could lose her job! And if she was accused of taking records she wasn’t supposed to have access to, she might even go to jail. But worse, if she was caught by whoever—

Ophelia was startled out of her frightened thoughts by footsteps on gravel and looked up to see a familiar figure coming toward her. It was Lucy Murphy, one of the Dahlias. Lucy had started working at the camp six months ago as a part-time kitchen helper, but she soon showed what she was made of and had been promoted several times. Now, she managed the entire food service for the camp, planning meals, making up the grocery and supplies orders, and supervising the enrollee kitchen helpers who did the prep work, cooked, baked, and cleaned up. Ophelia put Lucy’s menus in the Dispatch every week, so the mothers of local boys could see how well their sons were eating—fried chicken, meat loaf, pot roast, pulled pork, and macaroni and cheese, which they probably didn’t get at home on a regular basis.

“Hey, Lucy,” Ophelia said, raising her hand in a greeting. Trim and athletic, Lucy was wearing a green short-sleeved blouse and khaki-colored slacks, her flaming red hair tied back with a matching green ribbon, a purse swinging from one shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed—as a redhead, she had porcelain skin—and she looked unusually attractive.