“Sally-Lou,” she said, “I wonder if you could go over to Miss Hamer’s house this evening and have a little visit with DessaRae.”

There was a silence. “Might could.” Sally-Lou rolled the piecrust around the rolling pin and then neatly unrolled it over the top of the peaches in the pie tin, something that Lizzy had tried to do a hundred times and failed every time. “Why fo’ would I be visitin’ with Aunt Dessy?”

Lizzy had learned a long time ago that there was no point in trying to fool Sally-Lou, but the situation was complicated, and she didn’t want to go into it now. “Just something I need you to do.” She hesitated. “It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.”

“Like maybe spyin’ on those two ladies livin’ there, huh?” Sally-Lou asked. She pulled the pie tin toward her, picked up a knife, and slashed a vent across the top so juices and steam could escape.

“Sort of,” Lizzy said, and felt compelled to add, “It might be a little dangerous.” She didn’t really think so, but felt she should warn Sally-Lou anyway. They needed an insider in the house. An insider who had instructions on what to do, in case something should happen. Sally-Lou was smart, resourceful, and dependable. They could count on her.

“Dang’rous?” Sally-Lou chuckled. She began to crimp the pastry between her fingers, sealing the top and bottom crusts together. “Well, reckon I could,” she said judiciously. “Seein’s how it’s you that’s askin’, Miss Lizzy. And seein’s how I jes’ loves to do dang’rous things. Does ’em ever chance I gets.”

“Oh, good.” Sally-Lou loved drama, so Lizzy had been pretty sure she’d do it. But she had a mind of her own, and she was stubborn as all get-out, so you could never tell. “I have to go to the Magnolia Manor, so I’ll walk over with you and tell you all about it on the way.” Lizzy squeezed Sally-Lou’s arm. “Thanks. I’ll let Mama know, so she won’t fuss.”

Sally-Lou rolled her eyes. “Yo’ mama gone fuss anyhow. But I be used to it. Don’ you worry none.”

Mrs. Lacy was sitting in her white wicker rocking chair on the front porch, a tablet on her lap and a pencil in her hand. She looked up. “Oh, there you are, Elizabeth,” she said cheerfully. “I will be wantin’ that key again tomorrow. I’d like to take another look at the dining room. I think we can fit—”