Free Miss Dimple Suspects by Mignon F. Ballard Page A

dolls—the kind that came about ten in a box—just because they said Made in Japan on the back,” Annie said.
    Charlie groaned. “Well, that’s silly! The dolls couldn’t help where they were made.”
    Miss Dimple smiled. “Just as Suzy had no choice in her family’s origin.”
    “I’m certainly no friend of the Japanese, or the Germans, either,” Virginia said. “And with good reason, but I’m afraid most people would be hostile toward anyone they thought might be affiliated with the enemy. If you believe this young woman really is of that heritage I can understand why this would be a problem for her.”
    “It doesn’t help that she seems to have run away,” Charlie said. “I honestly don’t know what we can do.”
    “Wait, I suppose,” Miss Dimple said. “She phoned once. Maybe she will again, but right now we need to report this to Sheriff Holland, and the sooner, the better.”
    A light burned in a back window of the house where Esau Ingram and his wife, Coralee, lived at the foot of the meandering road, but Virginia drove past without slowing and everyone seemed relieved when they turned onto the main road to town.
    The streets of Elderberry looked deserted, illuminated only by dim lights in some of the stores. “I miss the lighted Christmas tree we used to have on the courthouse lawn,” Charlie said sadly.
    “And the big blue star over City Hall,” Virginia added, “but we wouldn’t want to attract attention in case there’s an air raid.”
    They were all familiar with air-raid drills during which everyone turned off their lights and draped their windows with black, but the town was so far inland, Dimple didn’t expect enemy planes to be able to reach them. She had read about the dreadful bombings in England and watched accounts of them in the newsreels, and her heart ached for the people there whose homes were being destroyed and their loved ones killed. Some of the children in the larger cities over there were being separated from their families and sent to safer homes in the countryside. How disheartening it would be if the small ones in her care were forced to do the same!
    Annie remained in the car with the dog while the other three went in to see the sheriff. They found Sheriff Holland at his desk, finishing a big bowl of ham and bean soup and corn bread his wife had sent over for his supper, and the tantalizing smell of it made Charlie’s stomach rumble.
    The sheriff washed down his last spoonful with black coffee after offering the women a seat and listened intently as Miss Dimple explained the reason for their visit.
    “And you say this woman—this companion—phoned you ?” he asked after she had related the details of their experience.
    “That is correct,” Dimple responded, “but she wasn’t there when we arrived. She would’ve had to go somewhere to use the telephone, possibly the Ingrams since they were the closest neighbors, but no one answered the door there.”
    “There’s no telling where she might be by now.” Sheriff Holland reached for the phone. “Can you give me a description?”
    Miss Dimple fingered the pin at her throat. “Small, attractive … probably in her mid or late twenties with dark hair.” She paused. “And Asian. Suzy’s Asian.”
    He relayed that information to someone on the other end of the line. “Suzy?” the sheriff repeated. “What’s her last name?”
    “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Miss Dimple said. “She never told me, but I really don’t think she had anything to do with what happened to Mrs. Hawthorne, Sheriff. She was confused and terrified at finding her the way she did. Suzy had no reason to kill her.”
    Excusing himself, the sheriff stood and stuck his head in the door of the room behind him. “Clyde, looks like we’ve got a homicide over there near Fox Grape Hill. Woman’s companion reported it and then took off. I’ve called in a description but you need to get Mabry in here—Dennis, too, and anybody else