The Darling Dahlias and the Poinsettia Puzzle
Copyright © 2018 by Susan Wittig Albert
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. For information, write to Persevero Press, PO Box 1616, Bertram TX 78605, or visit www.PerseveroPress.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or, in the case of historical persons, are used fictitiously.
Distributed by Greenleaf Book Group
For ordering information or special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Greenleaf Book Group at PO Box 91869, Austin, TX 78709, 512.891.6100.
PUBLISHER’S CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA IS AVAILABLE
Names: Albert, Susan Wittig, author.
Title: The Darling Dahlias and the poinsettia puzzle / Susan Wittig Albert.
Series: Darling Dahlias
Description: Bertram, TX: Persevero Press, 2018
Identifiers: ISBN 978-0-9969040-7-0 (Hardcover)
978-0-9969040-6-3 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH Women gardeners--Fiction. | Gardening--Societies, etc.--Fiction. | Nineteen thirties--Fiction. | Murder--Investigation--Fiction. | Alabama--Fiction. | Historical fiction. | Mystery fiction. | BISAC FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General | FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths | FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Historical | FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Cozy
Classification: LCC PS3551.L2637 D396 2018 | DDC 813.54--dc23
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper
18 19 20 21 22 23 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
For my mother, who could
make a merry Christmas
in the hardest of hard times.
Remembering.
December 1934
The Darling Dahlias Clubhouse and Gardens
302 Camellia Street
Darling, Alabama
Dear Reader,
Christmas in Darling is a special time, so we were glad when Mrs. Albert let us know that she was writing a book about our Darling holiday season. In this modern world, it’s easy to get the idea that you need to spend a lot of money on presents, fancy food, and glittering ornaments. Well, take it from us, you don’t have to spend money to make merry, and we hope Mrs. Albert makes this plain in her book.
We were also glad because there was a bushel of Darling holiday doings this year. The big event was the Holiday Jigsaw Puzzle Tournament, and the Dahlias sponsored a team! Another big thing: Earlynne Biddle and Mildred Kilgore decided to scrape their pennies together and open a bakery. This did not go as smoothly as hoped, and they need a little more practice with their bread, but we can recommend Earlynne’s croissants without a quibble. The first-ever Merchants’ Association Holiday Window Contest was a smashing success, too, although the competition got a little heated at times.
But Christmas was not all candy canes and carols. Myra May and Violet are still shuddering over the threat to their little family. (We won’t tell you what it was because that might spoil Mrs. Albert’s story.) The sheriff and Mr. Moseley had to figure out what was going on at the Jericho State Prison Farm and put a stop to it. And Liz Lacy (our Dahlias’ president and everybody’s friend) is faced with what looks like a pretty big decision.
In case this is the first time you’ve read one of Mrs. Albert’s books about us, you might be interested to know that our garden club is named for Mrs. Dahlia Blackstone, who had one of the greenest thumbs God ever gave His children. If you live north of the Mason-Dixon Line, we hope you won’t be too mad at us if we tell you that winter is a glorious time in our Southern gardens: pansies, snapdragons, honeysuckle, and sweet peas are blooming, along with camellias (our state flower) and winter jasmine. But if you don’t have a winter garden to make you happy, don’t despair. Just get out there and sow some smiles and compliments. As Aunt Hetty Little says, “One kind word will bloom all winter long.”
Well, that’s enough for now. We’ll let you go so you can turn the page and start reading. Or if you’re in the mood to bake, Mrs. Albert says you have her permission to skip to the end of the book for some good old-fashioned Southern holiday desserts—always a sweet way to end any party!
Happy holidays to you!
The Darling Dahlias
P.S. Mrs. Albert also wants us to tell you that she’s included some notes at the bottom of certain pages to remind you of the other stories she’s written about us, in case you want to read (or reread) these, too.
THE DARLING DAHLIAS CLUB ROSTER
Winter, 1934
CLUB OFFICERS
Elizabeth Lacy, president. Garden columnist for the Darling Dispatch and part-time secretary to Mr. Benton Moseley, attorney-at-law.
Ophelia Snow, vice president and secretary. Until quite recently, a reporter, Linotype operator, and advertising manager at the Darling Dispatch. Now works full time at the CCC camp. Wife of Darling’s mayor, Jed Snow, who also owns Snow’s Farm Supply.
Verna Tidwell, treasurer. Cypress County treasurer and probate clerk, organizer of the Darling Girl Scout troop. A widow, Verna lives with her beloved Scottie, Clyde. She is in an on-again-off-again relationship with Alvin Duffy, the president of the Darling Savings and Trust.
Myra May Mosswell, communications secretary. Co-owner of the Darling Telephone Exchange and the Darling Diner. Lives with Violet Sims and their little girl, Cupcake (Violet’s niece), in the flat over the Diner.
CLUB MEMBERS
Earlynne Biddle, a rose fancier and hobby baker. Married to Henry Biddle, the manager at the Coca-Cola bottling plant. Earlynne and Mildred Kilgore are about to open a new bakery in downtown Darling.
Bessie Bloodworth, owner of Magnolia Manor, a boardinghouse for genteel elderly ladies. Bessie is Darling’s local historian and grows vegetables and herbs in the Manor’s back yard.
Fannie Champaign, noted milliner and proprietor of Champaign’s Darling Chapeaux. Recently married to Charlie Dickens, publisher and editor of the Darling Dispatch.
Mildred Kilgore owns Kilgore Motors with her husband Roger. They live in a big house near the ninth green of the Cypress Country Club, where Mildred grows camellias. She and Earlynne Biddle are about to open a bakery on the courthouse square.
Aunt Hetty Little, gladiola lover, senior member of the club, and town matriarch. A “regular Miss Marple” who knows far too many Darling secrets.
Lucy Murphy grows vegetables and fruit on a small market farm on the Jericho Road. Married to Ralph Murphy, who works on the railroad and is never home.
Raylene Riggs, Myra May Mosswell’s mother. Cooks at the Darling Diner, manages the garden behind the Diner, and lives at the Marigold Motor Court.
Dorothy Rogers, Darling’s librarian. Knows the Latin name of every plant and insists that everyone else does, too. Resident of Magnolia Manor.
Beulah Trivette, owner of Beulah’s Beauty Bower, where all the Dahlias go to get beautiful. Artistically talented, Beulah loves cabbage roses and other exuberant flowers.
Alice Ann Walker, secretary to Mr. Duffy at the Darling Savings and Trust. Alice Ann grows iris and daylilies. Her disabled husband, Arnold, tends the family vegetable garden.
CHAPTER ONE
“NOTHING UNUSUAL EVER HAPPENS IN DARLING”
Friday, December 14, 1934
“I don’t think I heard that right,” Elizabeth Lacy said as she began setting up the card table in the front room of the Darling Dahlias’ white-frame clubhouse (the parlor, when club founder Dahlia Blackstone had lived in the old house). “Ea
rlynne and Mildred are opening a bakery?”
“It’s true,” Aunt Hetty Little replied energetically. “I heard it from Beulah at the Beauty Bower yesterday morning. Beulah said she heard it from Alice Ann, who got the word straight from Mildred herself, when she came into the bank to open the bakery’s checking account.”
Past eighty and the oldest member of the club, white-haired Aunt Hetty sometimes complained of arthritis in her knees and often walked with a cane, fancifully carved by her nephew, Billy Ray. But she was full of pep and vinegar and could be found out in her garden at the crack of dawn on a sunny day, planting, pruning, and picking.
“Earlynne started baking when she could stand on a stool to reach the top of the table,” Bessie Bloodworth said. She added doubtfully, “But baking for a hobby is not the same thing as baking for a business. And Mildred isn’t much of a cook. She admits that herself.”
Aunt Hetty chuckled. “Well, you know Earlynne. She’s got enough confidence for the two of them. Not to mention that hoard of recipes. That woman has more recipes than Carter has little liver pills.”
“Confidence is one thing, stick-to-it is something else,” Verna Tidwell said skeptically. “Earlynne never met a new project she didn’t love—for a week or two. Not to be critical,” she added. “Just stating a fact.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” Aunt Hetty said. “Verna, did you bring your magnifying glass?”
“Here it is,” Verna said, putting it on the table. Slender and olive-skinned, Verna kept her dark hair short in an easy-care style. She was the first woman in the entire state of Alabama to be elected to the important job of Cypress County probate clerk and county treasurer. She was not one to waste time putting on makeup—a quick dash of vivid red lipstick was usually enough for her, and sometimes she didn’t even bother with that. “I’m not sure the rules allow us to use a magnifying glass, though,” she added.
“Well, I don’t know whyever not,” Aunt Hetty replied tartly. “Some puzzle pieces are so itsy-bitsy that they’re impossible to see. We’re allowed to wear our eyeglasses, aren’t we? What’s the difference between wearing eyeglasses and using a magnifying glass?”
“A magnifying glass ought to be okay,” Elizabeth Lacy said. “But I’ll ask Miss Rogers. She’s the one who’s making the rules.”
“Dorothy Rogers makes too many rules, if you ask me,” Aunt Hetty muttered.
Liz (as her friends called her) tried not to smile, but it was true. Miss Rogers had read about the jigsaw puzzle tournaments that were all the rage across the nation and decided that a competition would be a good wintertime community activity for their little town. And since she was the town’s librarian and the puzzle contest was her bright idea, she had decided to set it up as a fundraiser for the library, which was perennially short of money for new books.
As the organizer of the tournament, Miss Rogers had made all the rules: sixteen of them, to be exact, because she always liked to have things spelled out. There was a three-dollar nonrefundable entry fee for each four-person team, and so far, six teams had entered. The first team to finish its puzzle in the two-hour contest period would win. If no teams were completely finished at the end of two hours, the team that had assembled the most pieces would win. The prize was a big box of items donated by local merchants, to be shared by the winning team.
“Probably won’t amount to a hill of beans,” Aunt Hetty had grumbled. “They won’t want to give away anything they think they might sell.” But Liz had reminded her that the contest was a fundraiser, and that the prize wasn’t the most important thing.
When the Dahlias learned about the competition, they voted to sponsor a team. Bessie, Liz, Ophelia Snow, and Aunt Hetty (all avid puzzlers) volunteered, and Liz was chosen as the team leader. Then Ophelia—who worked three days a week at the Darling Dispatch and two days at the new CCC camp, outside of town—got an offer of a full-time job from the camp’s commandant.
“I hate to drop out,” she told Liz, “but I don’t think I should take on anything else right now.” Luckily, Verna was as passionate about puzzles as Ophelia and agreed to take her place.
The Dahlias’ team tried out a long list of possible names and finally agreed on Verna’s suggestion: the Darling Dahlias Puzzle Divas. Tonight was their second practice session, with a fivehundred-piece puzzle they had rented from Lima’s Drugstore for five cents a day. (If you want a three-hundred-piece puzzle, Mr. Lima will rent it to you for just three cents a day. If you’re looking for a thousand-piece puzzle, expect to pay a dime.)
A few years before, game manufacturers had begun marketing cheap, mass-produced cardboard jigsaw puzzles, replacing the expensive, hand-cut wooden ones. The new low price created a puzzle mania that swept the country, with sales peaking at an incredible ten million a week. The most popular of these new cardboard puzzles was the Picture Puzzle Weekly—a different puzzle was released each week—which was sold as the “perfect family entertainment.” Depending on the size, the Puzzle Weeklies sold for ten to twenty-five cents, and people rushed to buy them. Adding to the interest, retail stores had begun offering free advertising puzzles with the purchase of a toothbrush, a flashlight, a can of Dauntless cherries, or a box of Cremo five-cent cigars. What better (if more devious) way to help customers remember your brand name than to put them to work assembling a picture of your product?
Some suggested that puzzles were popular because they gave millions of unemployed people a cheap, absorbing way to fill the empty hours. But Lizzy thought it was more than that. You might be out of a job, but you could tell yourself that you were “at work” on the puzzle. Finishing a puzzle could give you a sense of accomplishment that was hard to come by when you weren’t bringing a paycheck home every week. You might even begin to feel that you were in control of something, at a time when most people felt that they were at the mercy of outside forces.
“Who’s got a wristwatch?” Liz asked, as she began setting the four folding chairs around the card table. The last time they did a five-hundred-piece puzzle, it had taken them over two hours to finish it. To be competitive, they would have to work much faster. But this was only their second practice, and the tournament was over a week away.
“I’ll time us, Liz,” Verna volunteered, taking her wristwatch off and putting it on the table. “How many pieces are there in this puzzle?”
Bessie—comfortably round, with graying curls, a little fringe of gray bangs, and a ready smile—leaned across the table and picked up the box. “This one has straight border edges, not like that crazy round one we practiced with last week. Miss Rogers says the one we’ll be doing for the tournament will have straight edges.”
“And all the teams will get the same puzzle, I hope.” Aunt Hetty adjusted her eyeglasses. “Since we’re racing against one another, it wouldn’t be fair if some of us got an easy one and some got a hard one.”
“Yes,” Liz replied. “Everybody gets the same puzzle, although poor Miss Rogers is going a little crazy.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “There are seven teams, so she’s trying to round up seven copies of the same five-hundred-piece puzzle—with no missing pieces.” That was the frustrating problem with “used” puzzles. They were inevitably missing a piece or two.
Bessie sat down in the chair to Liz’s right. Changing the subject, she said, “Does anybody know the name of Earlynne and Mildred’s new bakery?”
“Mildred and Earlynne’s Folly?” Verna suggested drily.
“Now, you be charitable, Verna.” Aunt Hetty hung her wooden cane on the back of a chair and sat down. “Last I heard, they were still debating what to call it, Bessie. But they’ve rented a place to put it.”
“Earlynne Biddle and Mildred Kilgore, in business together. Now that will be something to see.” Bessie put her elbows on the table. Those two bicker, bicker, bicker, all the livelong day.”
“You say they’ve rented a place, Aunt Hetty?” Verna sat across from Bessie. “Where?”
&nb
sp; “That old frame building next to Fannie Champaign’s hat shop,” Aunt Hetty said.
Verna settled herself. “Oh, that’s where AdaJean LeRoy used to have her cake shop. Remember that place? The front part is about the size of a bathtub. Put three or four customers in there at once, and you’ll have a crowd. But as I remember, there’s a nice big oven in the kitchen, and a sink and an icebox.”
“They’ve got their work cut out for them, then.” Bessie shook her head. “Nobody’s been in that building since poor AdaJean broke her hip and went to live with her nephew up in Montgomery. And that was . . . oh, three years ago, at least.”
“More than that,” Aunt Hetty said. “I know, because I got a Christmas card from her last year. She mentioned that she’d missed five Darling Christmases and wished she could be here for the holiday.” She sighed reminiscently. “I told her we missed her, too. She made the best gingerbread. Maybe I’ll write tonight and ask her for her recipe. Earlynne and Mildred might want to add it to their list.”
“I wonder if they’ve got my recipe for Red Velvet Cake,” Verna mused.
Liz cleared her throat, feeling that if she didn’t take charge, they would never get around to working on the puzzle. “Shall we get started?” She held up the puzzle box so everybody could see the picture on the cover. “This one is Milton Bradley’s Dutch Bargain. Two little Dutch girls are trading dolls—and it looks like the bigger girl is taking advantage of the smaller one.”
“So that’s what ‘dutch bargain’ means,” Bessie mused thoughtfully. “Somebody taking advantage of somebody else. Seems like life is full of dutch bargains.”
“It looks pretty easy,” Liz said. She dumped the pieces in the middle of the table, then propped up the lid where everybody could see the picture.
“Let’s turn all the pieces right-side up first,” Verna said, always the organizer. “And we don’t have to stay in our chairs. We can walk around the table for a better view.”
The Darling Dahlias and the Poinsettia Puzzle Page 1