Excerpt from The Edge of Town by Dorothy Garlock, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Joe or Papa will be coming in with the wagon and a list in a few days. I need a can of baking powder and a small bottle of vanilla flavoring to get me by until then."

Julie waited while Mr. Oakley went to the back of the store. Her eyes roamed the neatly stocked shelves, the barrels of crackers, beans and rice and the bright red, big-wheeled coffee grinder that sat proudly on the counter. She breathed in the mixture of scents: coffee, spices, leather goods and overripe bananas. The pucker-mouthed wife of the blacksmith waddled into the store, paused to look around, then greeted Julie.

"Ain't seen ya at church lately, Julie," she said in an accusing tone.

"I've been there almost every Sunday, Mrs. Yerby."

"I meant durin' the week. Been havin' good crowds fer the revival meetin's."

"I'm glad to hear it." Julie turned to Mr. Oakley and noticed the jar of peppermint sticks on the counter. "I'll take a half dozen sticks of peppermint. The kids need a treat once in a while." As she placed them in her cloth bag, the grocer pulled a thick ledger from beneath the counter, thumbed through the pages to the Jones account and added the purchases.

"Thank you," Julie murmured, then said more loudly, "Nice seeing you, Mrs. Yerby."

"Come to the revival, Julie. Ya just might meet a man lookin' for a wife. Ya ain't never goin' to get one jist stayin' out there on the farm takin' care of them kids."

Julie laughed nervously. "I'm not looking for a man, Mrs. Yerby."

"Pshaw! Ain't a woman alive who ain't lookin' for a man. Yo're better-lookin' than most."

"Thank you," Julie said dryly.

"Ya won't have no trouble a-tall if ya just spruce up and show yoreself some. That's if ya've not got yore sights set on one of them good-looking rich fellers like that William Desmond Taylor that got himself murdered out there in Hollywood." Mrs. Yerby's laugh was more of a dry cackle.

Embarrassed, Julie angrily turned and adjusted the items in her bag. Mrs. Yerby didn't seem to notice that she had made Julie uncomfortable and continued in a confidential tone. "They ain't found out who killed him yet. I heard a feller say it on the radio. Bet it was that oh-so-pure Mary Miles Minter. Pshaw! Pure, my foot. Ain't nothin' pure in that wicked place." Mrs. Yerby picked a raisin from the barrel and popped it quickly into her mouth when she saw Mr. Oakley wasn't looking. It didn't stop her from talking.

"That awful Johnson man came to the meetin' the other night and stood out in the dark lookin' in. I told 'em that they ain't ort to hold services in the pavilion with the sides raised up so that hill trash like Walter Johnson can see what's goin' on. But they went right ahead and done it, and look what they got."

"Did he disrupt the service?" Mr. Oakley asked.

"He was drinkin' and quarrelsome. When church was over he tried to pick a fight with Stan Decker. He called him a blank-blank hypocrite, but out of respect for the church Stan just walked off and left him. That Johnson is the meanest man I ever did see. He's too mean to live, is what he is. A person can see the devil right in him."

"I must go," Julie said. To the shopkeeper she added, "Tell Mrs. Oakley I'm sorry I missed her."

"Ya better watch that little sister of yores, Julie." Mrs. Yerby lowered her voice. "It's said that man's ruined more'n one young girl in this county. Wouldn't put it past him to waylay her out in the woods someplace and have his way with her. Now that his boy is back, there's two of 'em. I heard there's a girl down in Well's Point that was sent away sudden-like."

"Thanks for the warning, Mrs. Yerby."

Copyright © 2001 by Dorothy Garlock