“I think that’s right,” Bessie replied. “Miss Jamison’s mother—Miss Hamer’s sister—has been dead going on twenty or twenty-five years. I don’t remember Miss Hamer ever mentioning that she had a niece.” Although of course it wasn’t a subject they talked about. Like the other part of the Hamer family history, which neither of them had ever mentioned to the other, at least not in the past twenty years. The Hamer and Bloodworth history, two chapters of a single story.

Verna was frowning intently, as if she were mentally sorting through a series of filing cards. “Did Miss Hamer verify who she was?”

Bessie could see where this was going and wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. “You mean, did the old lady get somebody to check her out? No, I don’t reckon she did. Why are you asking?”

Verna cast an I-told-you-so look at Liz, who said, rather hurriedly, “I don’t suppose Miss Jamison mentioned anything to her aunt about dancing. Or vaudeville or Broadway or Mr. Ziegfeld.”

“You’re certainly right about that,” Bessie said caustically. “If she had, she’d still be in Chicago. Dancing is one of the things Miss Hamer can’t abide. One of the many things.”

“I suppose that’s why Miss Jamison refuses to admit that she’s Lorelei LaMotte,” Verna said reflectively. She folded the playbill and put it back in her handbag, then gave Liz another look. “I guess there’s no point in even thinking about the talent show, then.”

“The talent show?” Bessie had to laugh at that. “You were planning to ask Nona Jean Jamison to put on an act for the Dahlias’ talent show?”

Verna shrugged and gave her a half-embarrassed grin. “Well, yes, I was. Not a very good idea, huh?”

“Sure it’s a good idea,” Bessie agreed. “That is, if she really is Lorelei LaMotte. And if she could clean up the act enough to be decent. And if she weren’t nursing her aunt. And if her aunt didn’t hate dancing so much.” She shook her head emphatically. “Miss Hamer finds out about the Naughty and Nice Sisters, and Nona Jean Jamison will be out on the street in the blink of an eye. She and Miss Lake both.”

Verna chuckled. “It’s a little hard to think of Lorelei LaMotte as a nurse.”

Bessie lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “Well, these days lots of people are doing things they never thought they’d do. And she’s not getting paid. Miss Jamison said on the phone that she’d do it just for the board and room, if her friend could come with her. That’s what got her the job, most likely. Miss Hamer would probably die before she paid out any real money.”

“On the phone?” Liz asked. “Was that when she called from Chicago? Myra May mentioned that there was a call.”