China Bayles Mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert
THYME OF DEATH
WITCHES’ BANE
HANGMAN’S ROOT
ROSEMARY REMEMBERED
RUEFUL DEATH
LOVE LIES BLEEDING
CHILE DEATH
LAVENDER LIES
MISTLETOE MAN
BLOODROOT
INDIGO DYING
A DILLY OF A DEATH
DEAD MAN’S BONES
BLEEDING HEARTS
SPANISH DAGGER
NIGHTSHADE
WORMWOOD
HOLLY BLUES
MOURNING GLORIA
CAT’S CLAW
WIDOW’S TEARS
DEATH COME QUICKLY
BITTERSWEET
AN UNTHYMELY DEATH
CHINA BAYLES’ BOOK OF DAYS
Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter Mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert
THE TALE OF HILL TOP FARM
THE TALE OF HOLLY HOW
THE TALE OF CUCKOO BROW WOOD
THE TALE OF HAWTHORN HOUSE
THE TALE OF BRIAR BANK
THE TALE OF APPLEBECK ORCHARD
THE TALE OF OAT CAKE CRAG
THE TALE OF CASTLE COTTAGE
Darling Dahlias Mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE CUCUMBER TREE
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE NAKED LADIES
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE CONFEDERATE ROSE
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE TEXAS STAR
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE SILVER DOLLAR BUSH
THE DARLING DAHLIAS AND THE ELEVEN O’CLOCK LADY
With her husband, Bill Albert, writing as Robin Paige
DEATH AT BISHOP’S KEEP
DEATH AT GALLOWS GREEN
DEATH AT DAISY’S FOLLY
DEATH AT DEVIL’S BRIDGE
DEATH AT ROTTINGDEAN
DEATH AT WHITECHAPEL
DEATH AT EPSOM DOWNS
DEATH AT DARTMOOR
DEATH AT GLAMIS CASTLE
DEATH IN HYDE PARK
DEATH AT BLENHEIM PALACE
DEATH ON THE LIZARD
Other books by Susan Wittig Albert
WRITING FROM LIFE
WORK OF HER OWN
A WILDER ROSE
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Copyright © 2015 by Susan Wittig Albert.
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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-18564-7
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Albert, Susan Wittig.
The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O’Clock Lady / Susan Wittig Albert.—First edition.
pages ; cm
ISBN 978-0-425-26062-3
1. Women gardeners—Fiction. 2. Nineteen thirties—Fiction. 3. Alabama—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3551.L2637D38 2015
813'.54—dc23
2015012221
FIRST EDITION: September 2015
Cover illustration and logo © by Brandon Dorman.
Cover design by Judith Lagerman.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author’s use of names of historical figures, places, or events are not intended to change the entirely fictional character of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
Version_1
For readers and friends whose fathers and grandfathers served in FDR’s Tree Army and whose mothers and grandmothers made the best of things in the worst of times.
Contents
Also by Susan Wittig Albert
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Letter to the Reader
The Darling Dahlias Club Roster, Summer 1934
CHAPTER ONE: “I’ve Got the World on a String”
CHAPTER TWO: Sheriff Norris Investigates
CHAPTER THREE: The Dahlias Bloom in Beulah’s Beauty Bower
CHAPTER FOUR: Sheriff Norris Learns a Few Facts
CHAPTER FIVE: The Dahlias Do Business
CHAPTER SIX: Verna and Lizzy Make Plans
CHAPTER SEVEN: Sheriff Norris Learns a Few Facts of Life
CHAPTER EIGHT: Charlie Dickens: A Newsman in Search of a Story
CHAPTER NINE: Sheriff Norris Learns More Facts of Life
CHAPTER TEN: Lizzy’s Prayer Is Answered—But Which One?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE: Ophelia Goes Undercover
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Sheriff Norris Collects More Clues
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Ophelia Collects What She Came For
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Charlie Dickens Has Lunch with His Wife and Is Enlightened
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Charlie Dickens Meets Mata Hari and Is Enlightened
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: In Which Several Important Things Happen at Once to Different People
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: The Dahlias Celebrate the Fourth
Historical Note
Resources
Recipes
The Dahlias’ Household Magic
The Darling Dahlias Clubhouse and Gardens
302 Camellia Street
Darling, Alabama
Dear Reader,
We’ve all been pretty much up in the air with all the recent happenings in town, most of them connected, one way or another, with Camp Briarwood, the new Civilian Conservation Corps camp out beyond Briar’s Swamp. In fact, there’s been so much going on lately—so many threats to the peace and welfare of our dear little Darling—that some of us Dahlias are beginning to worry. And after what happened to Rona Jean Hancock, we are even more concerned.
So when Mrs. Albert dropped in at the clubhouse the other afternoon to tell us that she had decided to write another book about our town, we weren’t sure what to think. We’ve always imagined Darling as a beautiful place where mostly good things happen. After all, the people who live here are mostly very good, or at least above average. There are exceptions, of course. But when our Darling citizens do something bad, it’s usually a mistake or an accident or (at worst) a case of bad judgment.
Lately, though, it seems that the outside world has been pushing awfully hard to get into our dear little town, like that proverbial camel who keeps pushing his nose under the tent, and the threat has begun to worry some. Of course, when the camel brings
jobs and boosts business (like Camp Briarwood, our local CCC camp), folks don’t complain too much. But there are those who would just as soon that the camel went back where he came from and left us alone, while others argue that if Darling is going to have any future, our town is going to have to wake up and join the modern world. It’s a puzzle—or a conundrum, as Miss Rogers says. (She’s a librarian and very fond of big words.)
Well, enough of that. When Mrs. Albert asked us to recommend a title for her book, it was our club president, Miss Elizabeth Lacy, who came up with the winning suggestion: The Eleven O’clock Lady. This is the name of Liz’s favorite spring wildflower, so called because the starry white blossoms don’t open until the sun shines directly on them and wakes them up. Miss Rogers wanted to insist that this little plant be called by its nine-syllable botanical name: Ornithogalum umbellatum. But Mrs. Albert pointed out that if the book were called The Darling Dahlias and the Ornithogalum Umbellatum, probably nobody would read it. When she put it that way, even Miss Rogers (who, as a librarian, always encourages everyone to read) had to agree. As to how The Eleven O’clock Lady fits what happened here in Darling—well, you’ll just have to read it and see. We hope you will.
And we also hope you will remember our club motto, which Aunt Hetty Little has embroidered with a beautiful vase of sunflowers for our club wall: We keep our faces to the sun so we can’t see the shadows. It’s how we manage to stay (mostly) cheerful during these depressing times. We recommend the practice. Maybe it will work for you, too.
Sincerely yours,
The Darling Dahlias
The Darling Dahlias Club Roster, Summer 1934
CLUB OFFICERS
Elizabeth Lacy, club president. Secretary to Mr. Benton Moseley, attorney-at-law, and garden columnist for the Darling Dispatch.
Ophelia Snow, club vice president and secretary. Holds two jobs: at the Darling Dispatch and as liaison officer in the quartermaster’s office at Camp Briarwood, the new CCC camp. Wife of Darling’s mayor, Jed Snow.
Verna Tidwell, club treasurer. Cypress County treasurer and probate clerk. A widow, Verna lives with her beloved Scottie, Clyde.
Myra May Mosswell, club communications secretary. Co-owner of the Darling Telephone Exchange and the Darling Diner. Lives with Violet Sims and Violet’s little girl, Cupcake, in the flat over the diner.
CLUB MEMBERS
Earlynne Biddle. A rose fancier. Married to Henry Biddle, the manager at the Coca-Cola bottling plant, and works part-time in the office there. Teaches reading at Camp Briarwood.
Bessie Bloodworth. Proprietor of Magnolia Manor, a boardinghouse for genteel elderly ladies next door to the Dahlias’ clubhouse. Grows vegetables and herbs in the Manor’s backyard and manages the vegetable garden at Camp Briarwood.
Fannie Champaign Dickens. Proprietor of Champaign’s Darling Chapeaux and noted designer of women’s hats. Newly (and happily) married to Charlie Dickens, the editor of the Darling Dispatch.
Mrs. George E. Pickett (Voleen) Johnson. Widow of the former bank president and notable town matron, specializes in pure white flowers. Part owner (with Miss Tallulah LaBelle) of the Darling Savings and Trust Bank.
Mildred Kilgore. Owner and manager of Kilgore Motors. She and her husband, Roger, have a big house near the ninth green of the Cypress Country Club, where Mildred grows camellias.
Aunt Hetty Little. Gladiola lover, town matriarch, and senior member of the club. A “regular Miss Marple” who knows all the Darling secrets.
Lucy Murphy. Grows vegetables and fruit on a small market farm on the Jericho Road and supervises the kitchen at Camp Briarwood. Married to Ralph Murphy, who works on the railroad.
Raylene Riggs. Myra May Mosswell’s mother and the newest Dahlia. Cooks at the Darling Diner and lives at the Marigold Motor Court with Pauline DuBerry.
Miss Dorothy Rogers. Librarian for Darling and for Camp Briarwood. Knows the Latin name of every plant and insists that everyone else should, too. Resident of Magnolia Manor, where she plants her small flower-and-vegetable garden in very straight rows.
Beulah Trivette. Owns Beulah’s Beauty Bower, where all the Dahlias go to get beautiful and catch up on the latest news. Artistically talented, Beulah loves cabbage roses and other exuberant flowers.
Alice Ann Walker. Grows irises and daylilies, which don’t take a lot of time or attention—important for Alice Ann, who works full-time as a cashier at the Darling Savings and Trust Bank. Her disabled husband, Arnold, tends the family vegetable garden.
ONE
“I’ve Got the World on a String”
In less than an hour, Violet Sims’ well-ordered life was going to change. But right now, she was enjoying what in her opinion was the very best hour of a summer’s day—the earliest hour. That was the time when she went out to work in the vegetable garden behind the Darling Diner, which she owned and managed with her friend, Myra May Mosswell. And this hour, on this Saturday, seemed especially perfect. It had been hot and sultry all week, and the day ahead was likely to be another hot one, with the prospect of a storm in the afternoon. But the morning air was still cool and fresh, the dew was a silvery sheen on the ripe and flawless tomatoes, and the sun had just begun to peer over the rooftops of the little town of Darling to see if something of interest might be happening there on this very last day of June 1934.
And yes, things were already happening, interesting or not, depending on your point of view. Next door to the diner on the east, J.D. Henderson, who helped Mr. Musgrove in the hardware store, was burning trash in an old metal barrel behind the store. Across the alley and two doors to the north on Robert E. Lee, Mrs. Vader’s rooster was letting Mr. Vader know that it was high time he jumped out of bed and started for his foreman’s job at the Pine Mill Creek, where another big lumber order from the new CCC camp down by Briar’s Swamp was waiting to be filled. In fact, Camp Briarwood had placed so many orders recently (construction materials for officers’ quarters, a headquarters building, and a mess hall) that Mr. Vader had to get up extra early to supervise the three new men he’d just hired. But he didn’t complain. Everybody was happy that the sawmill was hiring again.
On the other side of Robert E. Lee, Bill Board, the milkman, was whistling as he delivered two quarts of Board’s Best milk and a pint of Board’s Best cream to Mr. and Mrs. Hart and the three little Hart grandchildren, who lived next door to Hart’s Peerless Laundry. Bill Board was whistling because the Harts had not only doubled their dairy order but paid their bill, to boot. The laundry business was flourishing, so much so that the Harts had had to hire two colored girls from Maysville to help with the extra washing. More jobs!
And from the diner’s kitchen window came the not-so-melodic sound of Myra May Mosswell singing along with Bing Crosby’s rendition of “I’ve Got the World on a String.” The song made Violet smile as she bent over and began filling her lard bucket with fresh green beans for the noon lunch. Actually, she thought, she’d better fill two buckets while she was at it. Now that the CCC camp was shifting into high gear, business was picking up nicely. In fact, it had gotten so good that she and Myra May were finally able to pay themselves a halfway decent salary. Under her breath, Violet hummed along with the radio. She had the world on a string and the morning was off to a glorious start.
Which was exactly how she felt for the next, oh, ten minutes or so. After that, the storm clouds began to gather (metaphorically speaking) and the day went downhill in a hurry.
* * *
In the sunshine-filled kitchen, Myra May glanced up at the clock over the sink. It was six thirty, and the diner would be open for business in a half hour. Violet’s sourdough bread was baking in the oven, and it was time to get the breakfast items started. She opened the refrigerator and took out eggs and milk, in preparation for stirring up pancake batter. On the menu, the pancakes were paired with her mother Raylene’s Southern fried apples and bacon or ham. Raylene’s fried appl
es had become a big hit with the Darling Diner’s breakfast customers.
Over in the corner, three-year-old Cupcake was dressing her Patsy doll and warbling gleefully with the radio. “Sittin’ on a rainbow, gonna make the rain go!” she crowed, and danced the Patsy doll up and down in time to the music. Seeing the morning sun glint off her soft strawberry curls, Myra May thought that Cupcake was much cuter than little Shirley Temple, the child movie star. She was an even bigger hit with the customers than her grandmother’s fried apples. In fact, she was such a popular little girl that she had been selected as Little Miss Darling for the town’s Fourth of July celebration coming up next week.
On the other side of the kitchen partition, behind the diner’s long counter, Cupcake’s grandmother, Raylene Riggs, had just finished making a pot of coffee, and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. Myra May could hear Raylene singing along, too, in her odd little tuneless way: Life’s a wonderful thing as long as I’ve got that string.
The song had it right, Myra May thought as she began breaking eggs into the heavy yellow pottery bowl. Life was a wonderful thing these days—well, it was going in that direction, anyway. She was her own boss, serving good, wholesome food to customers and friends in her very own place of business. Around her were gathered the three people she loved most in the world: her dear friend Violet, their little Cupcake, and her mother, from whom she had been separated for most of her life. Best of all, the gray skies of the Depression were finally beginning to lighten, at least here in Darling, where people seemed to have more money than they’d had in the past three or four years.
And the credit for this improved state of affairs, in Myra May’s opinion, was almost entirely due to the Civilian Conservation Corps camp, a half-dozen miles south of town. Some of the local people were working at the camp in various capacities, so they had a little extra money to spend. The camp quartermaster bought supplies, equipment, and services from local merchants, like the Pine Creek Sawmill and Mann’s Mercantile and Hart’s Peerless Laundry. The camp advertised its needs in the Dispatch and bought milk, butter, eggs, and produce for the camp kitchen from the local farmers. And when the CCC boys came to town on weekends, they spent their money at the Palace Theater, the dime store, the new roller rink, the pool hall, and (of course!) the diner. A couple of months ago, Myra May had started staying open late on Friday and Saturday nights just so the boys could stop in for a hamburger or a milk shake after the last picture show.
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