Miss Dimple Picks a Peck of Trouble: A Mystery (Miss Dimple Mysteries)

by Ballard, Mignon F.

  Instead, she told him how fast Delia’s little Pooh was growing and what fun she was having being around a baby, as one day she hoped they would have some of their own. The thought made her long for him even more. A part of her was missing and Charlie wished she could climb into the envelope and mail herself to him in England—or wherever he was now. It only made things worse to dwell on all the things that might have happened since she’d last heard. He probably just hadn’t had time to write.

  She had lost count of the times she had read his last letter, and now she read it again.

  My own Charlie,

  Do you know how very much I love you? Miss you? I’ll bet you didn’t know you go with me everywhere, as I keep your picture in the cockpit, and all the fellows who’ve seen it are jealous of my good luck—although they don’t understand it one bit. I don’t, either, but I’m darned grateful for it and for having you in my life.

  This is the greenest place I’ve ever seen and the countryside, except for the bombed areas, is beautiful. I’d love to bring you here someday when this blasted war is over. We listened to Bob Hope on BBC radio the other night and it made me think of home and how lucky we are to live in the good old USA. It’s a country worth fighting for and I’m proud to do my part.

  Keep writing and keep on loving me and pray it won’t be long until I hold you in my arms once again.

  Yours always,

  Will

  Charlie put the thin, wrinkled letter under her pillow and went to sleep, dreaming of their last time together. He’d had a few days’ leave at the end of February, before being shipped overseas, and on the last night she had gone to sleep in his arms on the sofa in front of the living room fire. And that was the way she wanted to go to sleep for the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Of course you can use the car today,” Jo Carr told Charlie over breakfast the next morning, “but you won’t get far on the few gas rations we have left.”

  “Annie and Miss Dimple are helping out with that,” Charlie said, noticing an immediate gleam in her mother’s eyes at the mention of those two names. “And we won’t be driving all that far,” she continued, trying to make the prospect sound as dull as possible.

  “Oh, and what are the travel plans for today?” Jo asked. She concentrated on spreading margarine on her toast as she spoke, as if she wasn’t all that interested, but she didn’t fool her daughter for one minute. Charlie knew she might as well tell her mother the truth and deal with the consequences.

  “We thought we’d try to talk with Mary Joy Hodges—you know, Leola’s daughter. She lives in Covington, but her husband said she was taking care of his mother for several days. She’s had some kind of operation, I think. Anyway, his mother lives somewhere close to Griffin, and she doesn’t have a telephone.”

  Jo bit into her toast and chewed thoughtfully. “I suppose this is all about that fire at Leola’s.”

  Charlie busied herself slicing a peach onto her cornflakes, and with a shrug she told her mother Miss Dimple thought it would be worthwhile to find out if Mary Joy might have an idea why anybody would do something like that.

  “Somebody wanted Leola Parker off that land.” Jo faced her daughter and spoke in a matter-of-fact voice.

  Charlie nodded. “It would seem that way.”

  “Hmm…” Jo sipped her coffee and let the steam waft into her face. “I wish Lou and I could go with you. I just have a feeling we could find out something—and I used to be fairly familiar with that area, you know. My old college roommate lived on the other side of Griffin.… You remember Olivia, don’t you? Married a lawyer and moved up north. I never could see what she saw in him … had an Adam’s apple as big as a baseball and talked through his nose.”

  Charlie smiled. She remembered Olivia and thought she was probably lucky to have landed the lawyer who talked through his nose.

  “But Mama, aren’t you and Aunt Lou supposed to work at the ordnance plant today?” Of course they were, and Charlie knew it very well. That was why she felt safe in telling her mother about today’s mission.

  Jo Carr frowned. “You’re right, but I do wish we could go along. That fire didn’t start from the road, you know, and if it hadn’t been for Lou and me, who knows how long it would’ve been before they figured that out?”

  Charlie laughed and hugged her mother. “You’re right. They’d probably still be in the dark, but Miss Dimple doesn’t feel like we can afford to wait on this now that they’ve arrested Clay.” She planted a kiss on Jo’s cheek. “I promise I’ll give you a full report tonight when I get home.”

  * * *

  “It’s not that I don’t want them to come,” Charlie explained to the others later as they drove past the courthouse on their way out of town. “It’s just that they always end up putting their lives in danger, and I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to those two.”

  Beside her in the front seat, Dimple frowned over her bifocals. “And don’t you think your mother might feel the same about you? It’s not as if you haven’t given her good reason.”

  Charlie sighed. She had to agree Miss Dimple was right. “Okay. Maybe next time,” she said.

  It was half past nine before they left, and already the sun scorched the streets with a bold yellow light. The statue of the Cherokee Indian that marked the town’s limits looked as if he would welcome a cooling shower or at least a tall glass of iced tea.

  “How far is it to this place where Mary Joy’s mother-in-law lives?” Annie asked from the backseat.

  “You remember Griffin, don’t you?” Charlie reminded her. “We went there with Will and your brother, Joel, soon after we started teaching together—had lunch at that little place right outside of town.”

  Annie laughed. “Oh my gosh! How could I forget? That seems like a million years ago. Is this place close to there? Does anybody have directions?”

  Miss Dimple took a folded paper from her purse. “I have this for a start, if I can decipher it. At least it should give us an idea of where to begin.”

  “Look! Isn’t that a new rhyme?” Annie said, calling their attention to a series of small Burma Shave signs placed at intervals along the roadside. She read them aloud as they passed:

  Maybe you can’t shoulder a gun

  But you can shoulder the cost of one

  Buy defense bonds

  Burma Shave

  Miss Dimple smiled. “That must be a new one. I don’t think I’ve seen it before.” The verses not only livened up what might be a monotonous drive but often carried a patriotic message.

  “Tell us again where we’re headed,” Charlie asked Miss Dimple as they left Elderberry several miles behind them.

  Dimple unfolded the small paper she had taken from her handbag and frowned as she read it aloud. “According to Mary Joy’s husband, Luther, it’s between Zebulon and Orchard Hill, only you turn left before you get there.”

  “Turn left before you get where?” Charlie asked.

  Dimple examined her notes again. “To tell you the truth, I jotted this down so quickly, I’m really not sure. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until we get close and try to find our way.”

  Annie shook her head. “Sounds like an adventure—oh, wait! Slow down, Charlie! There’s a soldier up ahead. Looks like he needs a ride.”

  The young figure in khaki, duffel bag by his side, stood by the side of the road in the partial shade of a sweet-gum tree and his slender tan face broke into a wide smile when Charlie stopped beside him.

  “Where to, soldier?” she asked, smiling.

  Climbing into the back beside Annie, he hoisted his bag in behind him and leaned forward to thank the driver. “Anywhere near Sparta, thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to standing out in that sun for long,” he said with a grin. “We get enough of that at camp.”

  “Have you been waiting very long?” Annie asked.

  “Only a few minutes. I’ve never had any trouble getting a ride. Most folks are glad to stop if they h
ave room—and some even if they don’t.” He laughed. “On my way home on leave the other day, my buddy and I rode part of the way on the back of a truckload of chickens.”

  Charlie laughed. “And where’s your buddy now?”

  “Oh, he went on back to Fort Benning, but I have an extra day, so I’m stopping to see my girlfriend in Sparta.”

  “I don’t think that’s very far out of our way,” Miss Dimple said with a questioning look at Charlie. “Perhaps we can take you there.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Charlie agreed, thinking someone would have probably done the same for Will and Fain. After introductions, they learned that Pvt. Jack O’Donnell from Rockmart, Georgia, was returning from a visit with his parents after completing his basic training at Fort Benning, in Columbus. “I saved a day of my leave to stop and see my girl before I have to go back to base,” he explained. “It might be the last time I get to see her, as it looks like we might get shipped out sometime soon.”

  Miss Dimple tried to ignore the lump in her throat. “And what’s your girl’s name?”

  The young soldier grinned. “Beth—well, it’s really Elizabeth, but nobody calls her that.” He took a worn black-and-white photo from his wallet to show them, and everyone took turns telling him how pretty she was. They didn’t have to exaggerate. Fair hair framed the oval face of the smiling young woman in the photo, which was signed, Love you forever, Beth. Miss Dimple hoped she meant it.

  “We met at the university,” Jack explained. “Both of us finished our freshman year before I signed up. I decided I might as well go on and get it over with. Beth has promised to wait.”

  “I hope she doesn’t have to wait long,” Miss Dimple told him.

  Less than an hour later, the three women watched silently as Jack jumped from the car, tossed his duffel bag aside, and ran to embrace the smiling young woman who greeted him with outstretched arms. No one spoke until they had driven several miles down the road.

  Finally, Annie, remembering the reason for their trip, blinked away her tears and asked if anyone had spoken to Clay.

  “Delia went to see him yesterday,” Charlie told them. “She said it was pretty grim.”

  Miss Dimple shook her head. “Losing someone you love is tragic enough, but to be blamed for her death! I can only imagine the turmoil he must be going through. Somebody planted that ring in there, but it won’t do any good until we find out who.” She eyed the road ahead as if she could will the car to speed up the miles in front of them. “Let’s hope some good will come of today’s efforts.”

  “It shouldn’t be long,” Charlie said. “It’s not that far to Griffin.”

  “But shouldn’t we turn at this other place first—what is it, Zebulon?” Annie asked.

  Charlie glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Okay, everybody, start looking for a sign.”

  “There’s supposed to be a store on the right with a rooster painted on it.” Miss Dimple examined her notes again. And you’ll see a silo just before you turn.… Where are you going, Charlie? I don’t see any store.”

  “And I don’t see any silo,” Annie added as Charlie swung abruptly into a narrow side road and began to drive faster. “I don’t think this is where we’re supposed to turn, Charlie.”

  “Thought I’d try a shortcut,” Charlie mumbled as they bumped over ruts in the road.

  “Well, I suppose we can always turn around,” Miss Dimple said, casting a quizzical look at the driver. She glanced at the darkening sky. “Oh, dear, it looks like it’s coming up a storm.”

  “And a bad one,” Charlie said as black clouds loomed overhead and the day that had begun bright and sunny turned dark and threatening. She increased her speed as she continued down the deserted country road, finally slowing as rain descended in sheets and the road became awash in water.

  Charlie gripped the wheel and leaned forward. It was hard to see in the distance and the surface of the unpaved road was becoming mired in mud. “Good! Looks like some kind of building up ahead. I’m turning around before we get hopelessly stuck.”

  Dimple wondered why it wouldn’t be just as easy to get stuck going the other way, but she withheld her opinion for the time being. “I believe it’s a mill,” she said. “Or it used to be. Seems to be abandoned.”

  Charlie glanced in the rearview mirror and took the next curve in a burst of speed. “Good! It couldn’t come at a better time,” she said, and turned quickly into the weed-covered entrance and circled behind the weather-washed building. “Keep down,” she said as she parked behind a screen of scrub pine and turned off the engine.

  Soon a dirt-spattered vehicle, slinging mud in its wake, sped past and disappeared over a hill. Immediately, Charlie turned back onto the road and started back the way they had come.

  Annie leaned forward in her seat. “What in the world was that all about?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you, but this car has been following us since we left Sparta,” Charlie told them. “Even when I made a couple of stops—remember when we bought cold drinks at that filling station back there, and circled the block to look at that pretty old church? It kept behind us. I thought I’d find out for sure by turning off here.”

  “Why would anybody be following us?” Annie asked.

  Charlie slowed as she turned back onto the main road, then accelerated. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.”

  Miss Dimple finally leaned back in her seat and allowed herself to relax. “I didn’t want to mention this,” she began, “but now that we’re well on the way, I suppose it’s all right to tell you.… That old mill back there was Robinson’s Mill. The sign was faded, but I could still make out the letters. That was the road Luther advised us to avoid.”

  Charlie laughed. “Good thing I didn’t know that earlier.”

  Miss Dimple was quiet for a few minutes, and then she said, “I wonder who knew we were coming here today.”

  “Do you think somebody followed us from Elderberry?” Charlie asked. “I told Mama, but that’s all, and who would she tell … except Aunt Lou?”

  “And I mentioned it to Ben Morrison and Phoebe, and I believe I might’ve said something to Virginia, too,” Dimple confessed.

  “I can’t see what difference that makes,” Annie said. “Who cares how many people knew where we were going today? Why would anybody want to follow us?”

  Charlie concentrated on the road ahead. “I don’t know, unless somebody wants to find out if we’ve talked to Mary Joy.”

  “But how would they know Mary Joy wasn’t in Covington?” Annie asked.

  They would learn the answer to that question when they finally arrived at Luther’s mother’s home a short while later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The brief thunderstorm passed as quickly as it had come up, and by the time they noticed the sign to Zebulon, sunlight again sparkled on the grassy verges on either side of the road.

  “I think I see the store Luther was talking about,” Miss Dimple said a few minutes later, pointing out a small gray building ahead, and if one looked closely, you could barely make out the faded red rooster on the side.

  Soon after that, Charlie turned onto a rutted dirt road immediately past the silo that Mary Joy’s husband had mentioned.

  Maisie Hodges lived in a small farmhouse set back from the road, and it looked like it had been there almost as long as the ancient oaks on either side. The house, although unpainted, looked neat and welcoming with bright red geraniums in tin-can planters lining the front porch railings. An elderly Negro woman sat in a rocking chair, shelling field peas into an enamel pan, and chickens strutted around a bare-swept yard.

  “Hello! You must be Maisie.” Miss Dimple stepped from the car to greet her. “I’m—”

  The woman’s face lit up in a broad smile. “I reckon you be Miss Dimple. My Luther said you was comin’.” She started to rise. “Mary Joy, she out back hangin’ out the wash again. Had to bring it all in when it started to rain.”

 
“Ma Maisie, you sit yourself down and behave now, you hear?” Mary Joy, apron flapping, hurried around the side of the house and smiled at the newcomers. “Luther told us to look for you today. Come on up on the porch and have a seat. I’ll bring us some iced tea.”

  Odessa had packed a Thermos of tea in their lunch basket, along with ham-salad sandwiches and a few tea cakes left over from Phoebe’s last meeting of the Jolly Jonquils Garden Club, but it would have been rude to refuse refreshment, so they all trooped onto the porch and sat in the welcome shade.

  Mary Joy introduced Luther’s mother to everyone, explaining in a low voice that she was recuperating from a female operation.

  Miss Dimple murmured appropriate sentiments. “It feels twenty degrees cooler out here,” she said. “You must enjoy this nice shady porch.

  “But tell me,” she added, addressing Mary Joy, “how did you know to expect us if you don’t have a telephone?”

  “Oh, Mr. Mule Blackstock tell us when he come by with the mail,” Maisie said.

  Annie smiled. “Mule?”

  Mary Joy laughed. “Well, his real name’s Thomas, but everybody calls him ‘Mule’ because he used to make his living selling them. He has a telephone and lives right down the road, so he doesn’t mind bringing messages when he can. I reckon Luther’s daddy worked for Mr. Mule forever, didn’t he, Ma Maisie?”

  Maisie Hodges smiled and nodded. “More’n thirty years, I reckon.”

  Luther, they learned, had received another call soon after Miss Dimple’s, from someone asking how to get in touch with Mary Joy.