Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause

by Mignon F. Ballard

  Buddy Oglesby smiled. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just that I’ve been—well—kinda busy. You know how it is. We sure had us some good times though.” He glanced behind him to make sure he hadn’t been followed. Thank goodness Ima Jean still lived in her mother’s old place a few miles on the other side on the little town of Winder and so far out in the sticks nobody would think to look for him there.

  “Is anything wrong, Buddy? What’s going on?” Ima Jean stooped to pick up the baby. The screen door remained closed between them, and she made no move to let him in.

  He sighed. “There’s been sort of a mix-up, Ima Jean, and I just need a place to stay.” Buddy reached back to rub his neck. He’d slept in his car all night and ached in places he didn’t even know he had. “It won’t be long, I promise, and I have a little money. I can help you out with groceries and things.”

  “Well, you can’t stay here. I reckon you haven’t heard, but I got married a few years ago. My husband’s in the army, and I don’t think he’d like it a whole lot if he was to hear you were living here with me.”

  “Oh, no! No! It wouldn’t be anything like that. Don’t you still have that little building out back? The one your mama used for a sewing room?” Buddy glanced at the baby and tried to look interested. “Come on, Ima Jean, please! I really need somewhere to stay, and you could use a little extra money, couldn’t you? I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  He could see she was relenting, but she still didn’t open the door. “What have you done, Buddy?”

  He sighed. “Ima Jean, I reckon you know I wouldn’t hurt a soul. It was all a big mistake, and I can explain … oughta be cleared up in no time … please, you gotta believe me!”

  “You better not be lying!”

  He raised his right hand. “I swear. Just for a few days … okay?”

  “Heck, there’s nothing out there to sleep on except that old sofa,” she said, “and no bathroom, either, but I guess you could use the one Daddy had put in off the back porch.”

  “How are your folks?” Buddy asked. If those two were still around, they might not take too kindly to this arrangement.

  “Daddy died a year ago,” Ima Jean told him. “And Mama’s gone to live with my sister in Americus, but just ’cause it’s just me here with the baby don’t mean you don’t have to behave, Buddy Oglesby!”

  Again Buddy raised his right hand and swore he’d be as good as gold.

  * * *

  The day had finally come! Annie woke early and stretched, luxuriating in the double bed in the room that had been assigned her. It was definitely a boy’s room. College pennants and framed photographs of sports teams lined the walls, and a snapshot of a pretty girl smiled at her from the bedside table. It was signed, Love, Mary, and Annie wondered if she was a special girlfriend of the sailor whose room she was using.

  After catching a ride to Atlanta with one of Phoebe’s neighbors, she had been welcomed the night before with a light supper by Geneva’s aunt Maggie. Afterward they listened to a radio program featuring the All-Girl Orchestra with Evelyn and her Magic Violin, and Maggie shared pictures of her son, who was serving under Admiral Nimitz in the Pacific Theater. He had just begun his sophomore year at Georgia Tech, his mother said, when he enlisted with several of his friends.

  When the radio program ended, they listened quietly to the news, Maggie concentrating intently on every word, and when it was over, she took a deep breath and smiled. “Well … no news is good news—for now.”

  Annie hoped it continued. She was glad her hostess understood the importance of this time with Frazier and had assured her she was not to worry about the hour she returned as the door would be unlocked.

  Frazier was staying with parents of one of his old Georgia Tech fraternity buddies and would have the use of their car for the next day. Earlier, she had given him the phone number and address of Geneva’s aunt, and the two women were finishing breakfast when he telephoned.

  “I’m not that far away and can’t wait to see you,” Frazier began. “I can probably be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Annie glanced at her polka-dotted flannel pajamas, her feet in blue fuzzy slippers. “Could you make that twenty?” she asked.

  After the fourth try with the hairbrush to tame her short dark curls, Annie gave up in disgust. She added a dab of powder, although it did little to disguise her freckles, and fastened the locket Frazier had given her for her birthday around her neck. The gold oval looked perfect against her new burgundy sweater, and she had even found a shade of lipstick that matched it.

  Less than twenty minutes later, Annie watched him swing up the front walk in his easy, long-legged stride, overseas cap in one hand and a bunch of red roses in the other. As he drew nearer, she could distinguish the silver first lieutenant’s bar from a recent promotion on his collar.

  She was breathing too fast! Please, God, don’t let me pass out! He was so handsome with his dark hair and eyes the warm color of chocolate that could look right into her heart. So wonderful, and so right, Annie couldn’t wait another minute. She flung open the door and threw herself into his arms.

  He picked her up off her feet and kissed her right then and there while Geneva’s aunt looked on discreetly from the living room and, after brief introductions, they were on their own for an entire day in Atlanta.

  “I’ve a surprise for lunch,” Frazier told her after spending the morning sharing peanuts with the elephants and monkeys at Grant Park Zoo. “I hope you don’t mind my planning our day, but I thought you might enjoy seeing some of the places most people like to visit when they come here.”

  The October weather was sunny but cool enough for a sweater, and leaves were just beginning to turn red on dogwood and sumac. Soon sweet gum would join them with darker hues, and hickory would show off in glorious gold.

  Annie didn’t care what they saw as long as she was with him, and told him so. He took her hand as they walked back to the car. “I don’t think you can beat the atmosphere of the place I’ve chosen, but we have to make a stop first,” Frazier said.

  Annie was surprised when, after a short drive, they pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant on Ponce de Leon Avenue. The Ship Ahoy looked like a good place to eat, but atmosphere? Maybe it would be different on the inside, she thought.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you around,” Frazier said, leading her to the door. “I worked here while I was at Tech, and I still like the food.”

  After hugs and greetings from all the staff, Hugo the cook presented Frazier with a huge picnic basket filled with good-smelling things and covered with a red-and-white-checkered cloth.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Hugo insisted when Frazier tried to pay. “This is our going-away gift to you with blessings from all of us. Just come home safely,” he said, clearing his throat before turning away. The waitresses all cried, and the maître d’ kissed him on both cheeks and walked with them to the door.

  “Wow!” Annie sighed upon reaching the car and, sniffing, swallowed a salty tear. “Now I think I’m going to cry.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Frazier told her, but she noticed that his eyes were wet, too.

  A few minutes later they spread their cloth in the shade of a large oak in Piedmont Park and enjoyed a lunch of baked ham, deviled eggs, pickles, potato salad, and crusty french bread, followed by rich, dark brownies with pecans and fudge frosting. Their friends at the restaurant had also included disposable dinnerware, cups, and a container of sweet iced tea.

  “What? No wine?” Frazier peeked in the basket and feigned disappointment.

  “Heavens, what would Froggie say? You want to get me fired?” Annie laughed. “Besides, I don’t need spirits to lift me up today.” She blew him a kiss and lay back on the cloth after they cleared away their lunch things, and Frazier stretched out beside her as they watched a group of local musicians set up for a concert in the bandstand.

  “You didn’t tell me there would be entertainment,” Annie said as peopl
e began to gather in groups around them.

  “Especially for you.” Frazier leaned over for a quick kiss and laughed. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t know, either.”

  The band could’ve been led by Glenn Miller, Harry James, or Benny Goodman and it would have made no difference to either of them as they sat beneath their tree and talked about a future together when the fighting would be over and their loved ones safely home.

  “I wish we could carve our initials on this tree,” Frazier said, running a finger over the rough bark, “but I doubt if park officials would approve.”

  “We don’t need to mark it to make it ours,” Annie reminded him.

  “One of these days we’ll bring our children here.” Frazier pulled her to her feet and, to the delight of onlookers, lifted her face for a kiss. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

  And Annie Gardner threw her arms around his neck and cried all over his uniform.

  Stroking her hair, Frazier laughed softly. “Uh-oh! Is the very thought of marrying me that terrible? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Annie took his hand and kissed it. “What scares me is having to let you go, but I’ll be right here when you come back, and don’t think for one minute I’m going to let you forget your offer.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Frazier said, “and, just to be sure, maybe this will help you to remember.” And while the band played “When Johnny Comes Marching Home,” he slipped a ring on her finger.

  * * *

  “I meant to give you the ring tonight, but I just couldn’t wait,” Frazier said later as they strolled the meandering pathways of the park.

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I’ll probably never have another chance for a standing ovation.” Annie’s face was still burning from the applause they’d received from the surrounding crowd, many of who had offered congratulations and hearty good wishes for a happy life together.

  The gathering grew thin as evening shadows crept across the grass, and the group on the bandstand packed up their instruments and left. Soon the park would close, and still Annie clung to Frazier’s hand, taking comfort in his nearness. This time tomorrow he would be on his way back to Fort Benning to join his company, and all he could tell her was that they would be serving in the European Theater. When would she see him again? Would she see him again?

  This won’t do at all! He is not going to remember me as dreary and weeping on our last day together before he ships out. “I guess we’d better head back to the car before we get locked in the park for tonight,” Annie said in what she hoped was a spirited tone.

  “Would that be such a terrible thing?” he whispered in her ear. “But you’re right. If we’re going to make it to the Place to Be, we’d better get a move on or we might not get back before midnight.”

  “The Place to Be? What in the world is that?”

  “Only where you’ll find the best barbecue in the world. It’s a little place between here and Athens where I’m taking you for dinner. Don’t worry. It’s less than an hour away.”

  “Frazier Duncan, how can you even think of eating again after all that food we put away at lunch?”

  “But that was hours ago, and I’m a growing boy,” he said as he stowed the empty picnic basket in the trunk of the car. “As my always-ailing aunt Hortense used to say, ‘I believe I might be able to sit up and take some light nourishment.’”

  “And I believe I’d better learn how to cook,” Annie said with determination.

  * * *

  It was soon after they drove through the small village of Winder that she saw him. “Frazier! Turn around—we have to go back!”

  “Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Frazier slowed the car and looked for a place to turn around. “Annie, what is it?”

  “It’s him—Buddy Oglesby! The man who disappeared with the War Bond money. Remember? I told you all about it.”

  “Where? Are you sure?”

  “I saw him go into that little store back there. I know it’s him, Frazier. Nobody is as tall and lanky as Buddy. Hurry! I have to find out for sure.”

  But in the five minutes it took to turn around and go back to the store where she’d seen him, Buddy Oglesby—or the man who looked like Buddy Oglesby—was no longer there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  If he hadn’t had a hankering for a fried bologna sandwich, she never would’ve seen him—and chances were, she hadn’t. But how could he be sure? Ima Jean had on occasion been good to share what she’d had with him, but a fellow can eat just so many pinto beans, and lately he’d been remembering how his grandmamma used to fry up sliced bologna with onions until he could pretty near smell it. The general store down the road stayed open pretty late, and if he walked fast, he could get there before it closed. He could almost taste that bologna.

  And now look where it had gotten him! He had paid for his purchases and was getting ready to leave the store when he saw her getting out of the car only a few yards away. Buddy slipped behind a shelf of canned goods and looked again. Sure enough, it was Annie, the pretty little teacher who’d helped with the follies back in Elderberry.

  Frantically, he looked around. The door behind him opened into a storeroom and then to the outside. Gripping the bag of bread and bologna, Buddy Oglesby took his chances and ran.

  * * *

  “Are you sure it was him?” Charlie asked. “I mean, could you really tell from that far away?”

  Annie nodded. “Had to be. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and the storefront was lighted. He crossed the road right in front of us, and I’m sure he went into that store—but then it seemed like he just disappeared.”

  Charlie frowned. “Did you mention it to the store clerk when you went back?”

  “He said somebody matching Buddy’s description was just there, but unless he’s become invisible, he didn’t leave the way he came in. I think he must’ve seen me and slipped out the back.”

  “I just can’t imagine what Buddy Oglesby would be doing in Winder,” Charlie said.

  “Hiding out, I suppose. Waiting for a chance to spend all that money he took.” Annie kicked a twig from the sidewalk and took pleasure in imagining it was Buddy. “I told Chief Tinsley about it, and he said he’d look into it, but I don’t think he believed me.”

  “Do you think Buddy might’ve had something to do with setting that fire at Jesse Dean’s? If he was the one who shot him, he might’ve come back to—”

  Annie stopped in mid-stride and turned to face her. “Oh, Charlie, I hope not! It’s awful to think he’d be capable of something like that, but when you think about it, Winder’s not that far away.”

  “You’re right. It isn’t, and if Buddy didn’t do it, then who did?” It was Monday following Annie’s weekend trip to Atlanta and the two were walking back to school after their noon meal at Phoebe’s, where everyone had made a big production of admiring Annie’s ring, although a few had seen it on her return the day before.

  “If Will gave me an engagement ring I think I’d walk around with my hand out in front of me for everyone to see,” Charlie said, admiring her friend’s diamond as they waited to cross the street.

  Annie laughed. “Just wait! It won’t be long. Do you think you’ll be able to see him before they move on to advanced?”

  “I doubt it. You know as well as I do their time’s not their own. When’s the last time you saw Joel?”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Annie said, smiling. “My brother has more important things to do than spend time with me, but he said in his last letter they expect to be moving on to advanced training the end of this month.”

  Charlie nodded. “And Craig Field’s in Selma. That’s way down in the middle of the state. Will thinks we might be able to meet in Columbus or even Montgomery sometime during Thanksgiving.”

  “Wouldn’t that be appropriate? The two of you met a year ago on Thanksgiving. Remember?”

  Just thinking of it made Charlie feel warm inside in spite of a chill wind bringing rain. How could
she ever forget?

  * * *

  “Well, I hope Bobby Tinsley will pay attention to you and Annie now,” Phoebe said when Dimple told her what she’d learned about Buddy’s connection with Cynthia Murphy. “Thinks nobody knows anything but him. I never saw a man so thickheaded!”

  Odessa had left early that day, and Dimple was helping her friend set the table for a light supper. “Yes, well, we had a little chat, and he seemed most interested when I told him Buddy and Cynthia were a couple back in high school. He admitted he didn’t take it seriously when Annie told him she thought she’d seen Buddy in Winder, but I’m confident that he’ll look into it now.” She put a bowl of potato salad on the table and went to the buffet for a serving spoon. “I keep thinking of how upset Buddy was the day they found Cynthia’s remains. He must have had some idea who it was even then … the thought disturbs me.”

  “Just one more good reason why Buddy Oglesby should be behind bars—and the sooner, the better!” Phoebe said. “Reynolds has been told not to leave the area, so they obviously believe he had something to do with his wife’s death, but from what you’re telling me, it might’ve been Buddy who killed her.”

  She pulled out a chair and sat abruptly. “Oh, Dimple, you don’t suppose he set that fire the other night, do you?” She lowered her voice. “And could Buddy be the one who’s been sending me those notes?”

  Miss Dimple shook her head. “Let’s hope they get to the bottom of that fire business soon, but I don’t know about the notes since all but the first one were postmarked here.” She paused to sit beside her. “We’re going to find out who’s doing this, Phoebe. When I walked past the house on Legion Street early this morning everything looked the same, but Virginia promises we can try again tomorrow night.”

  Phoebe ran her fingers over the starched white tablecloth, worn thin in spots and patched in others. “You can’t keep on watching that place forever. Perhaps I should tell the police…”