Miss Dimple Suspects Read Free Page A

she was being manipulated. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” she quoted. “Your mama and daddy should be home from that wedding before long, and if Peaches isn’t back by then, I’ll bet one of them will go and hunt for her.” She tucked Peggy’s rag doll, Lucy, under the covers beside her. Violet’s aunt Odessa had made the doll for Peggy two years before when she’d lost her mother and everything she’d owned in that awful fire. “And what if Peaches came home and found us gone?” she said. “What would she think then? I’ll bet if you close your eyes and take a little nap, that cat will be back by the time you wake up.… And I’m not supposed to tell, but I happen to know your mama’s bringing you a piece of wedding cake from the reception, and if you put it under your pillow tonight, you’re supposed to dream about the man you’re going to marry.”
    “Won’t it get smushed?”
    Violet smiled. “Well, I reckon they’ll wrap it up real good in wax paper.”
    Peggy made a face. “Shoot, I’d lots rather eat it! What if I dreamed about Willie Elrod?”
    *   *   *
    A half hour later, having listened to The Green Hornet on the radio, Violet quietly opened Peggy’s bedroom door and tiptoed in to check on her. She hadn’t heard one peep from Peggy since she’d tucked her into bed and assumed the little girl had dropped off to sleep.
    Not only was the bed empty, but six-year-old Peggy Ashcroft was nowhere to be found and neither were her hat, coat, or mittens. Her neatly folded pajamas had been left on the chair, and a dress she had worn the day before no longer hung on the back of the door.
    Not even stopping to put on a wrap, Violet started on a run for the Methodist church where Kate Ashcroft was to play the piano for the wedding. The ceremony should have been over by now, but guests were probably lingering over punch and cake at the reception. She had almost reached the corner when Violet saw nine-year-old Willie Elrod racing toward her on his bicycle.
    “Willie! I need you to ride over to that wedding reception at the church and tell Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft Peggy’s done taken off to find that cat, and I think I know where she’s gone! Hurry, now! You can get there faster than I can!”
    Violet Kirby watched the child wheel about and pedal for dear life for the Methodist church a few blocks away. Only after she saw him safely across the street did she allow herself to cry.
    *   *   *
    Dimple Kilpatrick felt herself go weak as she reached for the flashlight in her pocket, and only then did she realize she had been holding her breath. The ribbon was red, the same color as the dress Peggy Ashcroft had been wearing when she disappeared that afternoon. She must be somewhere close by! Dimple felt a peculiar emptiness in the pit of her stomach. What if she had turned around earlier without looking further? Clutching the ribbon as if it could somehow lead her to Peggy, Miss Dimple called the child’s name. Still no answer.
    Well, she certainly wasn’t going to turn back now. Standing there in the semidarkness, Dimple Kilpatrick devised a plan. She would take twenty steps forward and call again; then twenty more, and twenty more. After that time, if she still hadn’t found Peggy, there should be barely enough light to go back for help. Miss Dimple tied the ribbon to the bush where she had found it to mark the spot and plunged forward. Underbrush clawed her legs, and overhanging limbs raked her so that she had to hold her hat on with one hand to keep from losing it. She tucked the little flashlight back into her pocket to use later and pulled herself along by low-hanging branches, pausing now and then to shout the little girl’s name and listen for a response.
    But branches and bushes weren’t the only things that grabbed at Dimple Kilpatrick as she made her way along uncertain ground. The smothering threat of fear hovered so near she could almost smell