Read Online Miss Dimple Suspects by Mignon F. Ballard - Free Book Online Page A

stone bridge in the town park and hurried past the two magnolia trees that bordered the walkway to the library. “Charlie’s mother’s using theirs. She and Charlie’s aunt Lou drove out to visit a cousin somewhere in the country.”
    Charlie had admitted earlier that the two sisters had long delayed visiting their cousin Eva. Not only was she a tiresome hypochondriac, they knew she’d insist on sending them home with her awful fruitcake, but as the holidays drew nearer, they couldn’t put it off any longer. That afternoon, with a box of chocolates from Lewellyn’s and a fruit jar of Lou’s sherry-flavored boiled custard, the sisters had resigned themselves to an afternoon of listening to their cousin’s list of maladies.
    Charlie dropped the book she was holding the instant they stepped inside the building. “What’s wrong? Is it Mama and Aunt Lou? They haven’t had an accident, have they?” Hurrying to meet them, she reached for Annie’s hand and pulled her into the room, still warm from the dying fire and smelling of wood smoke. “You know how Mama gets distracted when those two are togeth—”
    Dimple Kilpatrick gave her a look that clearly read: Settle down at once! Charlie Carr had seen it often and had been on the receiving end more than once during her own experience in Miss Dimple’s first-grade classroom. “As far as I know, your mother is fine,” Dimple reassured her, “but I received a frantic telephone call from Mrs. Hawthorne’s companion this afternoon and she seems to be in some kind of trouble.
    “Virginia, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to drive if you will.” She glanced at her friend, who was already gathering her wraps. “We need to get there as soon as possible.”
    After banking the embers in the stone fireplace and replenishing the water bowl for Cattus, the library cat, the four of them drove through the darkening December day through the outskirts of town and into the country, dust billowing like russet smoke behind them.
    “Should we stop first at Esau’s?” Charlie asked as Virginia turned onto the narrow rutted road that led to the hill where the artist lived.
    Miss Dimple frowned. “I don’t see his truck there, but we might find his wife at home. Maybe she can tell us something.”
    Annie jumped out and hammered on the door, but no amount of racket brought anyone to answer her. “I guess nobody’s home,” she said, rejoining Charlie in the backseat. “Suzy must’ve gone back up the hill to Mae Martha’s.”
    “I wonder why she telephoned you?” Charlie said, addressing Miss Dimple. “If it was an emergency, why not call Doc Morrison or the sheriff?”
    “Don’t forget, Suzy is a relative stranger in this area,” Dimple reminded her. “She probably didn’t know who else to call … and she had my telephone number. Remember? You gave it to her yourself.”
    Charlie remembered. “Still, you’d think she’d first go to Esau or his wife, or even that fellow, Bill …
    “Well, maybe not Bill,” she added when Annie shivered and made a face. “He did look kinda like one of Odessa’s ‘haints.’”
    “We’ll find out soon enough,” Miss Dimple said a few minutes later as they bumped into the clearing behind Hawthorne’s rustic house.
    A galvanized bucket holding sprays of greenery, still with the strong scent of cedar and pine, sat on the stoop by the door. “Strange, I don’t see Max,” Miss Dimple said, pausing at the top of the steps.
    “Probably inside with Suzy,” Annie said. “I can hear him barking.
    “Suzy! Mrs. Hawthorne! Anybody home?” she called, and was soon joined by the others. When no amount of knocking or hollering brought a reply, Miss Dimple found the door unlocked and stepped boldly inside.
    Max immediately threw himself upon them and began whining and racing frantically back and forth to the door that led to the studio.
    Miss Dimple knelt and spoke softly to the animal while calmly stroking his head. “It’s all