The Darling Dahlias and the Confederate Rose by Susan Wittig Albert

isn’t in yet? What time can I see him?”
    “He’s not here, Verna. He’s in Birmingham, and then he’s driving over to Warm Springs to meet with Governor Roosevelt. He won’t be in at all this week.” Lizzy shook her head, bewildered. “I don’t understand. Why would anybody want to
arrest
you?”
    “Not here?” Verna wailed, disconsolate. She sank into the chair on the other side of Lizzy’s desk. “But I need him, Liz! I
need
Mr. Moseley.”
    And with that, she began to sob, which by itself was incredibly shocking, since Lizzy had never once seen her friend cry, not even when Verna sprained her ankle on the courthouse steps and had to hobble a whole block to Doc Rogers’ office, leaning on Lizzy’s arm. Verna was one of those stoic women who hid her feelings and kept an absolutely stiff upper lip. And now she was falling apart, right in front of Lizzy’s eyes.
    Lizzy stood up and took charge of the situation. “What you need more than anything else,” she said firmly, “is a cup of coffee and a doughnut. And then you need to tell me all about it.
All,
” she repeated emphatically. “The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Verna. I can’t help you if I don’t know every detail.”
    Actually, she didn’t know whether she could help Verna at all. There must be something seriously wrong, if her friend was afraid of being arrested. But they had to start somewhere. And she had heard Mr. Moseley say those very same words to many clients who came to him in desperation, wanting him to fix this or that predicament they’d gotten themselves into. He always insisted on knowing every little detail about the situation, good, bad, or indifferent.
    “You?”
Verna asked in surprise, and then bit her lip. “I didn’t mean—That is, I wasn’t expecting . . .” She stopped, took a breath, and went on lamely, “I was hoping that Mr. Moseley would take my case, Liz. I can’t ask you to listen to—”
    “Oh, yes, you can,” Lizzy said firmly, and put the coffee cup down in front of Verna. “If you want Mr. Moseley to take your case, you are going to sit right there and tell me everything from
A
to
Z
, every single thing you know about this situation. I am going to write it all down.” She opened the drawer and got out the bag of doughnuts. “When Mr. Moseley calls on the telephone, I’ll relay what you’ve told me. He can tell us what to do. When he gets back, he can take over.”
    Verna heaved an enormous sigh of relief. “That sounds good, Liz. Actually, that sounds
swell.
I’m so grateful. I don’t know how I can thank you.”
    Lizzy raised her hand. “I can’t promise anything, of course. But Mr. Moseley is very good at straightening things out for people.” She paused, thinking how proud she felt when she said that. Mr. Moseley really was a very good lawyer. “In fact,” she added reassuringly, “I’ve never seen him tackle a case that turned out to be too tough to handle.”
    Verna’s face darkened. “Have you ever seen him tackle an embezzlement case?”
    Lizzy was jolted. “Embezzlement?” She had been thinking that Verna might be involved in a minor property dispute or even a disagreement over an unpaid bill. But
embezzlement
? Why, depending on the amount, that could be a felony! But of course even if she were arrested and charged, Verna wouldn’t be convicted. Mr. Moseley would get her off, because she was innocent. Steal money? She would never in the world do such a thing. In fact, this whole thing was beginning to seem like some sort of unfunny prank.
    “You’ve got to be kidding, Verna,” she said at last. “This is a joke. Isn’t it?”
    “I wish it were, Liz.” Verna’s voice was grim. “But I’m afraid I’m in serious trouble. Come on. Let’s get started.”
    Still half disbelieving, Lizzy reached for her steno pad and a pen. Ten minutes later, she had to agree. If even half of what Verna feared was true, she was in
very
serious