Lizzy had to admit that Verna had a point. Some people cheated; others lied. She had recently read a news item about a family in Florida who had welcomed their long-lost son, kidnapped years before. Unfortunately, the man turned out to be an imposter angling for an inheritance. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to look a little more closely at Miss Lorelei LaMotte.

“Maybe we ought to have a talk with Bessie Bloodworth,” she suggested. “Bessie has known Miss Hamer longer than the rest of us. If anybody knows anything about why Miss Jamison is here in Darling, it would be Bessie.”

“Actually, now that you mention Bessie, I do remember something,” Myra May said. “I’d forgotten about it until right this minute. But somebody—a woman—in Chicago telephoned Bessie a couple of weeks ago, asking about Miss Hamer. Since it was long distance, I stayed on the line long enough to make sure that the call went through okay. The woman said she was calling Bessie because her aunt doesn’t have a telephone, and she needed to find out a few things.”

“Find out what things?” Verna asked curiously. “What else did she want to know?”

“I have no idea. I got off the line.” Myra May pointed at Verna with her fork. “And even if I hadn’t, I couldn’t tell you what I heard. I shouldn’t have told you as much as I did.”

“All you’ve said is that a woman was calling from Chicago, Myra May.” Verna sounded cross. “Anyway, we’re not asking for the combination to the bank vault. We’re just trying to understand why a woman calling herself Miss Hamer’s niece—”

“Forget it, Verna,” Myra May said firmly, and applied her fork to her mashed potatoes. “You’ve worked on the switchboard yourself. You understand that the operators aren’t supposed to listen to people’s conversations. And if they do catch a bit of it, they’re definitely not supposed to talk about what they hear.”

Lizzy knew that this was true. Verna had worked part-time on the switchboard a few years back, when Mrs. Hooper was sick and needed the help.

“Violet can keep her mouth shut,” Myra May was going on. “But Olive and Lenore are still just kids. If I told tales and they found out, they’d think it was all right for them to do it and then I’d have to fire ’em. I love you with all my heart, Verna dear, but don’t ask me to tell you anything I might’ve heard on the switchboard. Okay?”

Verna rolled her eyes. “Myra May, you are a hard woman. I am sure glad I don’t have to work for you.”

Lizzy chuckled. The four switchboard operators had to be among the best-informed and most up-to-date people in Darling. All the news in town went through the Exchange—the price of cotton, how many kids had the measles, whose wife had left him, whose sister had miscarried. But Myra May made sure that her operators played by the rules. What comes into the Exchange, stays in the Exchange.