The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

*

As things turned out, Miss Tallulah was willing to see Mr. Duffy that afternoon, and since the roads to the plantation weren’t marked, Verna volunteered to go along, so he wouldn’t get lost. At least, that was the reason she gave, although if she had been completely honest with herself, she might have confessed to another reason. And it wasn’t just that she wanted a ride in his late-model Oldsmobile, either, although that might have been a factor.

When they reached the LaBelle plantation, Verna went inside with Al to introduce him to Miss Tallulah, then excused herself and went back out to the car so that the two of them could talk privately. Wishing she had brought her Ellery Queen mystery, she lit a cigarette and settled down to wait, wondering what was going on inside. As the acting county treasurer, she was used to dealing with money—and accustomed to working with strong-minded people, like Mr. Tombull and the other county commissioners. But she had never before asked someone to buy a bank, and the fact that she had had the temerity to do that half astonished her. She hoped Mr. Duffy and Miss Tallulah were getting along all right. He could be charming—yes, she had to admit that. But could he charm the old lady into opening her purse? And even if he could, did she have enough money to actually do the deal?

Ten minutes grew into fifteen, and then into a half hour, and Verna found that she had smoked three cigarettes all the way down to a tiny butt, and she was feeling the nicotine. To keep from smoking another, she stuck her pack in her pocketbook and her pocketbook under the seat. She was relieved when, ten minutes later, Al came out, walking jauntily and with a broad smile on his face.

“It’s all settled,” he said jubilantly, sliding under the wheel. “Miss Tallulah is going to do it! She’s buying twenty-five percent of the shares in the bank—and she has the available cash to do it with.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “Add that to Mrs. Johnson’s twenty-five percent, and we’ve met Delta Charter’s fifty percent requirement! Thanks, Verna, for this.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Verna protested. “Miss Tallulah is Aunt Hetty’s friend.”

“You thought of her,” he said. “And I’m grateful.”

“Well, it’s grand news.” Verna was surprised by how relieved she felt. She stole a sideways glance at him as he turned the key in the ignition and started the Oldsmobile. “Now that you’ve got that straightened out, when do you think the bank will reopen? Soon, I hope.”

“We’re a lot closer than we were.” He shifted into first gear and they were off. “I hope the Darling Dollars will take some of the urgency out of it. Pumping what amounts to ten thousand extra dollars into our local economy will help people buy what they need—which will help the merchants. It’s all tied together, you know.” He grinned. “Basic economics.”

“True,” Verna agreed, “although I don’t think most people understand the process.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe you should have Charlie write a story about it for the Dispatch. Better yet, you could write it yourself.” Somehow, she imagined that he would be a pretty good writer.

He gave her an appreciative look. “Actually, I’m doing that, for Friday’s paper.”