Free Miss Julia Paints the Town by Ann B. Ross

you heard from Helen? I couldn’t believe what was in the paper and I’ve tried and tried to get her on the phone, but nobody answers. But can you believe Richard, of all people, being accused of fraud?” She stopped for a minute as her face took on an awed expression. “And they can’t find him, either! You reckon there’s a connection?”
    â€œBetween Richard and Horace? Oh, I wouldn’t think so. They’ve never been particularly close, as far as I know. Besides, Horace is not what you’d call financially experienced, since he’s never had any finances of his own. Still,” I mused aloud, “it is strange that they’re both missing at the same time.”
    â€œMark my words, Julia, something weird is going on, but,” she said, heaving a great sigh, “I have enough to worry about. I don’t need to take on anything more.” She stepped out onto the porch, then turned back to me. “I guess I’ll see you at Mildred’s. Just because Larry’s ready to abandon his flock doesn’t mean I have to.”
    After seeing Emma Sue off, I went back into the kitchen where Lillian had her carrot cake ready for delivery.
    â€œLloyd call and say to tell his mama he keep on playin’ tennis till suppertime,” Lillian said. “Then he be home. An’ tell Miz Allen I be prayin’ for her.”
    â€œI will, and I know she’ll appreciate it.” I walked over to the counter to pick up the cake. “You haven’t heard from Sam?”
    â€œNo’m.”
    â€œWell, James said he went downtown, so maybe he ate lunch there. But if he comes in, tell him to call me at Mildred’s. I need to talk to him, and I can’t understand why he’s always gone every time I need him.”
    â€œHe pretty much around when you do,” Lillian said, always quick to defend Sam, or anybody for whom I had the least tinge of criticism. “An’ you be careful with that cake, and don’t squash down on that tinfoil. I put yo’ name on the bottom of the plate, so we get it back.”
    â€œGood, there’s so much food coming in over there that it’ll be a wonder if any plate makes it home again.”
    I hurried out to Hazel Marie’s car and set the cake plate down carefully on the floorboard of the back seat. Just as I straightened up and prepared to get behind the wheel, Lillian stuck her head out and called to me.
    â€œMiss Julia! You got a telephone call, an’ I think it’s that sweet Miz Stroud.”
    â€œOh, my goodness.” I hurried back into the house, hoping Lillian had gotten it right this time. Picking up the phone, I said, “Helen? Is that you? I’ve been trying to get you all day.”
    â€œYes, and so has everybody else,” Helen said, her voice low and subdued. “I’m not answering the door or the phone, Julia, and I hope all my friends will understand. I just can’t face the questions, especially since I don’t have any answers. I just heard about Horace on the radio and wanted to know how Mildred is doing.”
    â€œShe’s doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances. When I left about thirty minutes ago, there’d still been no news. They’ve not been able to find him, and I tell you, Helen, she doesn’t know which way to turn.”
    â€œI know how she feels. Tell her I’m thinking of her, and would love to be there, but, well, I just can’t right now.”
    â€œI will, but, Helen, you need support, too. Let me come over just as soon as I drop a cake off at Mildred’s. In fact, I’ll ask Lillian to start another one for you.”
    â€œNo,” she said with some firmness. “Thank you anyway, but I can’t see anybody right now. I have to go. Tell Mildred she’s in my prayers.”
    â€œBut…” But she’d hung up. “Lillian,” I said, turning to her, “I