Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause (26 page)

Lou squeezed his fingers. “I’m sure she isn’t.” She wasn’t sure at all, but what else could she say? She would be forever grateful that Evan Mitchell, the Presbyterian minister, arrived shortly afterward and was there when a nurse summoned Jordan into Millie’s room to tell him his wife had died.

*   *   *

Virginia counted the money again. She had put the bills in stacks according to their denomination ranging from one-dollar bills up to fifties. Most were tens and twenties along with fives, ones, and a few fifties. The total came to an even twenty-four hundred. When compared with the list of people who had paid cash and the size of the bonds they bought at seventy-five percent of their value, the sum came to seventy-five dollars more than the amount missing. Frowning, Virginia checked the list again: six people paid for one-hundred-dollar bonds; eleven people bought fifty-dollar bonds, and seventy-eight purchased the twenty-five dollar bonds which should total $2,325.00. So where did the extra seventy-five dollars come from?

Virginia Balliew put the money back into the envelope, locked the library door, and marched straight to the bank, where she turned it over to Hubert Chadwick. He, in turn, promptly telephoned the representative from the War Finance Committee, as well as Bobby Tinsley, to let them know the money had been returned. Chief Tinsley showed up in Arthur’s office in what was probably record time.

No, Virginia told them, she didn’t know where the extra money came from, but the note that was in the envelope, and which she gave to Bobby, simply stated:
I believe this is the missing bond money. I hope it is all here.

Frowning, Bobby blew into the empty envelope and examined it again. “And that was it?” he asked Virginia.

“We got the money back—and more. Surely you didn’t expect them to sign it,” she told him.

After leaving the money, Virginia walked back to the library feeling as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from her. She glanced at the town clock high above the courthouse. She had just enough time before the officers from the Woman’s Club arrived to drop by Lewellyn’s Drug Store for a cup of coffee to celebrate. And from now on, she would gladly scrub floors, dig ditches, or even carry a rifle and drill with the Home Guard rather than be in charge of another bond rally.

*   *   *

Leaving Lewellyn’s with coffee in hand, Virginia almost collided with Lou Willingham, who told her of Millie McGregor’s death. Lou was on her way to Cooper’s grocery to see if she had enough ration coupons for a small ham to serve after the funeral service on Saturday.

“They don’t seem to have any family,” she said, “so I’ve invited some of the faculty and Evan Mitchell, of course, as he’s to conduct the service. I don’t know how many to count on, but I have plenty of sweet potatoes and a good mess of green beans, so I guess they can fill up on that.”

“I’ve never known of anyone going hungry at your table,” Virginia assured her, and offered to contribute a congealed fruit salad. She hoped she still had that can of pineapple she remembered seeing on her pantry shelf. She would make that recipe with grated carrots and lemon Jell-O that everyone seemed to like.

Lou’s eyes filled with tears. “Jordan is just heartbroken, and my heart goes out to him. They’ve only lived in our little apartment a short time, but I feel I’ve known him much longer.” She frowned. “Now, Millie … I never could figure her out. She just didn’t have a
place,
if you know what I mean. Have you ever known anybody like that? I can’t think of a way to describe Millie McGregor except that she was always ready for a good time and the young people seemed to take to her. Why, Delia was so upset when she heard about it, she had to go to bed.” Lou shifted her purse to her other arm and attempted to adjust her coat over her bosom. “It seems like we’ve been wading through a whole pile of troubles here ever since that woman’s skeleton turned up back in September.”

“Well, I happen to have some
good
news,” Virginia said, lowering her voice. And she told her about the return of the War Bond money that morning. “I suppose it’s all right to mention it,” she added, “as I wasn’t advised to keep quiet about it.”

*   *   *

Minutes later at the library she noticed the obvious absence of Emmaline Brumlow and was momentarily taken aback as Emmaline didn’t think any meeting could be conducted properly without her.

“I wonder if they’ll release Buddy Oglesby now that the money has been returned,” Emma Elrod suggested after Virginia told them her news. “He couldn’t have been the one who returned it if he was still behind bars,” she added, “unless, of course he did it earlier.”

“I don’t believe the person who returned it was the one who took it,” Virginia reasoned. “Whoever it was didn’t seem to be sure it was the correct amount that was missing.”

“Where else could it have come from?” Ida Ellerby wanted to know. “I don’t know of many people here who have thousands of dollars floating around.”

Virginia thought of the conversation she and Dimple had had earlier.
If Millie had been blackmailing Phoebe, she might’ve been the one who stole the War Bond money as well, and possibly Jordan had found it and returned it.
However, she had been brought up to believe it was in poor taste to speak ill of the dead, so she kept her thoughts to herself. For now.

Later that afternoon Charlie and Annie sat at Phoebe Chadwick’s dining room table, bare now except for writing materials and a scattered stack of reference books. Their principal, “Froggie” Faulkenberry, had assigned the two of them the responsibility of planning the assembly program to be held at the end of the month.

“We’ll need music—definitely,” Annie said, making a note in her composition book. “I’m sure Kate Ashcroft can get some of the children in her music classes to sing something appropriate … and Alice Brady might have some of her expression students perform a couple of skits. The children usually love—

“Aw—applesauce!” Annie stopped in mid-sentence when the lead broke in her pencil and sighed after erasing the mark it had made. “Look at the ugly black smear this old imitation rubber eraser made. I think I’d rather just cross something out than try to use one.”

Annie’s patience had worn thin because she had yet to hear from Frazier since he’d shipped out, and even small things seemed to annoy her more than usual.

“It doesn’t matter,” Charlie told her. “We’re the only ones who’ll see this anyway.” She tried to keep her voice calm as she knew how Annie felt. Will would soon move on to the final stages of his training at Craig Field and would probably leave immediately afterward to become a part of the Eighth Air Force in England. It wasn’t looking encouraging for the two of them to get together anytime soon.

“Froggie could’ve given us a little more time,” Annie grumbled. “We’ve only about two weeks to work this out.”

“It’s almost Halloween. What about a ghost story?” Charlie suggested. “Something that won’t be too scary for the smaller children. I’m afraid most of the ones I know would give them nightmares.”

Annie smiled. “I think I know who could help us…”

“Miss Dimple!”
they said together.

*   *   *

Dimple Kilpatrick deposited a neat stack of folders on the table and smiled. She had been waiting for this day. “I’ve collected these little stories over the years, and you’re most welcome to browse through them and use the ones you like best. Frankly, I would find it difficult to choose as I’m fond of all of them.”

Charlie selected a folder and ruffled through its contents. “
Hansel and Gretel—
one of my favorites, but isn’t it a bit frightening for the little ones?”

“Ah, but you haven’t read it,” Miss Dimple said. “These are
revised
fairy stories, and some of them will make you laugh out loud. As we know, most fairy tales are rather violent and terrifying, so from time to time I have asked my classes for suggestions to change them in any way they like. I believe the results may surprise you.”

Leafing through the stories, they laughed as they read.

Gretel put pebbles in the witch’s stew and the witch became so heavy she couldn’t move.

Instead of letting down her hair, Rapunzel slid down the drain-pipe and landed in a mud puddle.

Cinderella put poison ivy in the beds of her stepsisters and they both broke out in a rash and couldn’t go to the ball.

Snow White changed her stepmother’s mirror for one that couldn’t talk.

Red Riding Hood and her grandmother locked the wolf in the basement and wouldn’t give him anything to eat but spinach and turnip greens. When they finally let him out, he ran away as fast as he could and never came back again.

(Charlie felt a little sorry for the wolf in spite of herself.)

“These are wonderful,” Annie said, putting several stories aside. “I think they’ll be even funnier if we let some of the children read them.”

Charlie agreed and suggested a likely candidate. Willie Elrod would be perfect to take part if they could trust him not to embellish too much.

Miss Dimple nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a word with our William.”

Charlie sniffed as an appetizing aroma came from the kitchen. “Something sure smells good. What’s for supper?”

“I think Odessa’s warming up the leftover stew we had earlier,” Annie said. “I’m sure there’s plenty. Why don’t you stay?”

“Can’t.” Charlie made a face. “Have to go home and think of something for supper. Delia’s down in the dumps because of Millie’s death, and Mama’s supposed to be writing her obituary for the
Eagle,
so it’s up to me. Guess it’s going to be leftover meatloaf again.” Everyone knew her mother didn’t cook unless it was absolutely necessary, and Charlie really didn’t mind. Her mother worked hard at the ordnance plant and in her job writing the society news for the local paper. Besides, Jo Carr’s cooking left a lot to be desired.

“I really didn’t know Millie well,” Annie said, gathering up her papers, “and I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort. I suppose Jordan gave your mother the information she needed.”

Charlie nodded. “Not a lot. Just a little background information—where she was born, went to school, etcetera. Neither of her parents is alive, and I don’t think she had any siblings. I was kind of surprised to see she majored in math. She always seemed like more of the artsy type.”

Annie grinned. “Like me?”

“Not at all like you,” Charlie told her. There was no comparison between the two women.

“And where
did
she go to school?” Miss Dimple wanted to know.

“Right over in Milledgeville at G.S.C.W.,” Charlie said. Her own mother was a student at Georgia State College for Women in the day when women had to wear uniforms and were told to turn away when a young man passed by the window. Of course she doubted if it was that strict when Millie went there.

“Do you remember her maiden name?” Miss Dimple asked.

“Yes, it was Knight.” Charlie had no trouble remembering because while she and Annie were at Brenau College they had lived down the hall from two roommates whose last names were Knight and Day.

“Millie Knight … or perhaps Mildred Knight,” Miss Dimple murmured as she left the room. Phoebe’s daughter Kathleen had attended G.S.C.W. at about the same time.

But Phoebe Chadwick shook her head. “Millie Knight. No, it doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ll ask Kathleen if she remembers her.”

Dimple Kilpatrick stood in her friend’s doorway with her hands clasped in front of her. “And are you planning to explain to her just why you want to know?”

Phoebe sat at her dressing table and tucked a stray strand of hair into place. She took her time in answering.

“I don’t know, Dimple. I really don’t know. If, as you and Virginia believe, Millie McGregor was responsible for blackmail—and perhaps other things as well—she’s gone now. What good will it do Kathleen?”

“I wasn’t thinking of Kathleen,” Dimple said softly.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FOUR

So the coach’s wife was dead. Head hit a rock, they said. Well, that was a coincidence! And now rumor was the coroner believed it was likely Cynthia Murphy had died in the same way, probably from a blow to the head.

He knew from personal experience the woman could drive a man to violence; why, any of them might’ve done it. It would just be a matter of time now before somebody learned his secret and began to point fingers at him. Maybe he should leave town … but it was too late to run.

*   *   *

It had to be her! Strange that she should end up in Elderberry when she’d made light of the little town back in college. Kathleen knew right away who her aunt Phoebe was talking about when she told her about Millie’s death. Millicent Knight had lived in her dormitory during their first two years of college, but she didn’t remain Millicent long. Petite and vivacious with long blond hair that had a tendency to curl, she earned the nickname Goldilocks, and eventually, Goldie, when she ate the cookies her roommate’s mother had sent from home—the entire box. “I really didn’t mean to,” she’d explained, wide-eyed, “but before I knew it, I had eaten them all up!”

A keen math student, Goldie was in school on a scholarship, and for a while tutored Kathleen in the subject when she was having a difficult time in that class. Millie had seemed grateful for the small fee she collected from working with Kathleen and a few other students and often used it to supplement her meager wardrobe.

At the end of one of their sessions she had told Kathleen how she had been adopted after her parents died of scarlet fever when she was about seven.

“Sometimes I’ve felt like I might have been adopted,” Kathleen told her, more to make her feel better about her situation than anything else. “I don’t look or act like either one of my parents, but then I guess most everybody feels that way at one time or another.”

Goldie only shrugged. “Maybe you were,” she said. “I wish somebody with lots of money had adopted me.” A year or so later Kathleen learned that although Millie’s parents were older and lived frugally on the salary her father brought in as a telegraph operator, she was
not
adopted. It was one of the many lies she told to promote sympathy, or maybe she thought it would help her get some of the things she wanted. Millie didn’t have money for frills, and she did love frills. There had even been a couple of instances of missing jewelry in the dorm, but nothing could be proved, and no one wanted to point a finger.