The Devil's Puzzle (27 page)

“No argument there. I’m just thinking that Jesse could stretch this out a little, give it a little play, as they say in the news business. I’d rather he find out whoever is behind this crime spree we’re having. Vandalism and theft, that’s bad publicity. No way to spin that.”

“I agree.”

“Which is why he focuses on the crimes and I hint to the world that we have uncovered something quite interesting in the backyard of one of our leading citizens. If the identity can’t be hidden at this point, that’s okay. We can use it to our advantage. We can plant stories about the old days when a lot of prominent families used to summer up here. A bit of nostalgia, a few ghost stories . . .” He was getting excited.

“I don’t know if that’s in good taste, Mayor. Considering what happened to Molly. A visitor to town gets attacked and left for dead. That’s the kind of bad publicity you want stopped, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“This was found near where Molly had been hit.” I showed him the button again. “The other day you handed out one each to the members of the committee.”

“So what?”

“Is that all the buttons there are?

“For the moment. The rest are ordered. They’ll be here a week before the celebration.”

“So someone who was in that committee room dropped this button at the spot where Molly was hurt. And Molly’s fingernail got stuck in it, maybe when she pulled it off her attacker.”

“Exactly what I’m talking about, Nell. You and your wild theories. It could be the button I handed you.”

“It wasn’t. I still have mine. Maggie still has hers. That leaves you, Glad, and Ed.”

“And Molly.”

“She gave hers to Dru Love over at the library.”

“Well, then any one of us could have walked past your grandmother’s shop and dropped it. Or given the button away. Or thrown it away. That’s the sort of thing Ed would do.”

“Where’s yours?”

He stopped. “Not on me, if that makes me a suspect. It’s probably in my office.”

“You still haven’t explained about last night. Molly saw you in a serious conversation with Glad at Moran’s, and it’s not the first time the two of you have met in secret.”

“It was perfectly innocent, but coming out of your mouth it sounds like something clandestine. Not that I mind. Might be great for my reputation. People think my only interests are my businesses and the future of Archers Rest. I was thinking of taking up golf if I could find the time for it, but I don’t know where I can . . .”

I wasn’t letting him take me to a safer subject twice. “What were you doing with Glad?”

“Dog with a bone, Nell Fitzgerald,” he said. “Glad and I are both very committed to making this anniversary celebration a success. It’s more work than either of us imagined and she’s a little—no, make that a lot—concerned about it coming off without a hitch. She’s worried some of our team chairs don’t have the right experience.”

“I’m aware.” I winced a little at the insult but kept up my line of questioning. “Is that what you were talking about at the library? Am I the ‘ridiculous woman’ she was afraid would ruin everything?”

“Yes, but not just you. Everyone. Glad’s a control freak. She’s decided to install window boxes around town, painted in a bright red, with white and blue flowers. She’s very insistent about the color scheme, at least that’s what I heard.”

“What you heard? She didn’t talk about it with you?”

“I only heard about it because she bought the paint from my son’s hardware store. She told him. But why should she tell me? I’m only the mayor.”

“Your son told Jesse that no one had bought red paint recently.”

He took a breath. “I know what you’re thinking, Nell, but Glad wouldn’t deface Archer’s grave. You have no idea how many times we’ve discussed that very event. Given how Glad’s purchase could be misinterpreted, my son and I thought it would be better if she didn’t have to explain herself.”

“Why? If she has nothing to hide . . .”

“She has a reputation to uphold, and enough trouble doing so considering the sort of things that are said about her sister. She asked that we not mention it, and we didn’t. That’s all.”

“That’s what you’re talking about? Her reputation?” I asked.

“Not old times?”

He laughed. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s none of my business. It’s just Mary Shipman . . .”

“That’s an interesting lady.”

“Yes, she is. She mentioned that you and Glad had dated.”

“A lifetime ago. We were kids. Glad was . . .” He searched for a word. “Less formal, less offended by the world. She was even fun, if you can believe it.”

“I’m not sure I can,” I admitted. “Mary said her father didn’t see you together either.”

“Hated the idea of it. Thought I wasn’t good enough for her. He did everything he could think of to break us up.”

“It obviously worked.”

“No, it didn’t, actually.” He stopped walking and looked down for a moment at the pavement, smiling sadly. “We were madly in love. We were seventeen, eighteen, so you have to put that in context, of course. Her father couldn’t keep us apart.” He sighed. “We put an end to it ourselves after about nine months of serious puppy love. Our differences started to matter, and we found ourselves fighting. The last one over a Yankees game. I wanted to go to New York on the day her mother was having a tea or some such nonsense. She said if I went to the game, it was over, and I went to the game anyway. That was it.” He shrugged and started walking briskly again. “Eight months later, I walked into an ice cream shop and met a girl named Bunny Giordano. You know her better as Mrs. Williams. We’ve had thirty years of wedded bliss, so I’d appreciate your not suggesting otherwise.”

I’d only met the mayor’s wife twice, but I had to admit that both times the couple seemed devoted to each other. Which didn’t mean he was telling the truth about his meetings with Glad—only that there might be something more dangerous than an affair going on between them.

We were at the steps to city hall, a one-story brick building that housed the mayor’s official office, as well as the city council meeting room and the Archers Rest Historical Society.

“I heard Mary Shipman threatened to blow this place up once,” I said.

“At least once.” He chuckled and headed up the steps and into the building.

CHAPTER 43

I
was next door to the police station, so I stopped in and told Greg, the detective in charge, about the button I’d found with Molly’s fake nail still stuck under the pin. He put it in an evidence bag and promised to tell Jesse once he returned from a meeting with Glad about security during the anniversary celebration.

As I walked out of the station, I had a weird feeling. For the third time in weeks, I felt as if I were being watched. I looked around. It was a bright, warm day and there were people on the streets, but no one was paying any particular attention to me.

I took a deep breath and made a few careful steps toward Main Street. As I did, I kept an eye on everyone around me—even on the buildings that I passed. I couldn’t see anyone that should concern me. But I could
feel
it.

I walked slowly down Main Street, toward the river. If someone was following me, it would be harder to do once there were open spaces and fewer people. I headed toward the park, keeping myself near the edge of the river, looking around as discreetly as possible. No one was there, yet I felt as if I weren’t alone.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I turned around, hoping to catch whoever was behind me. But there was no one. There was a patch of trees behind me. I could have searched them, but suddenly the idea scared me.

Keeping myself from breaking out into a run and reminding myself that this was broad daylight, I turned back toward the town center and kept walking until I reached Jitters.

“Anyone behind me?” I asked Carrie when I walked inside.

“Behind you how?”

“Watching me?”

She looked behind me. “No. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I guess. I’m just chasing my tail. I was talking—”

“Oh my God.” Carrie was standing behind the counter pouring a cup of coffee, but she was focused on whatever was going on outside her window.

I turned. Ed was standing outside Someday Quilts talking, and laughing, with Eleanor.

“I guess Glad was lying,” Carrie said.

“I guess so.”

We watched as Ed and Eleanor hugged, and then he walked down the street.

“I’ll pay for this later,” I said as I grabbed my coffee and ran off after him.

I wasn’t sure if I was following him or trying to catch up, so I kept a normal pace. Ed walked briskly, like a man with an appointment to keep. I’ve seen dozens of movies where people trail a suspect. They follow closely, and duck into doorways or between buildings when they’re about to be caught. Unfortunately for me, all the doorways along Main Street are flat to the sidewalk, and there are no spaces between the buildings, so I tried to look casual, and kept walking. I was feeling pretty good about my ability to follow someone undetected, when Ed turned around to face me, just as he reached the theater.

“Hi there, Nell,” he said. “Lovely day.”

“It is. Nice day for a movie, I suppose.”

“Today? No. Too much sunshine and summer breezes for sitting in air-conditioning. No one will come for a movie today. Might as well keep the place closed.”

“I wanted to ask if I could take you up on your offer to display some quilts in your theater. It has so much space in the lobby, and it would be great to keep the antique quilts indoors.”

“Absolutely. I’m happy to help.” He paused. “Is that it?”

“Yeah. Were you out taking a walk?”

“Yes. Just over at the park. I love to watch the kids on the swings, don’t you? But I have to admit, I’m always very tempted to jump on one myself. I used to love that as a kid. The freedom I had when I would swing high, as if I were soaring into outer space. You know what I mean?”

“Sure,” I said.

His whole attitude was light and playful, like a kid on Christmas morning. As he spoke, he rocked a little, and when he opened the door to the theater, he hummed. If I hadn’t known Ed had just been talking to my grandmother, I’d say he was a man in love.

After he told me about the playground, he smiled, turned his back on me, and headed into the theater. I stood there long enough to hear him bolt the door.

“So Ed lied to you,” Natalie said when I told her about the conversation.

“And for the second time. Eleanor and Ed were laughing and hugging not five minutes before.”

We were at the back of Someday Quilts, whispering and hoping that the sound of the longarm machine would keep Eleanor, who was at the front of the shop, from overhearing.

“They weren’t just hugging outside,” Natalie told me. “They were talking for about twenty minutes.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Ed came in looking for her, so I sent him back to her office. She closed the door. I couldn’t hear a thing.”

That deflated me. That, and the feeling that I had to rely on eavesdropping to find out about my own grandmother. Eleanor was hiding something from me. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have parts of her life that were none of my business. Of course she could. But she had never been anything other than direct and open—until now.

“I did hear one thing,” Natalie said. “I don’t know what it meant.”

“What?”

“When they were walking out of her office, I heard Ed say that
she
had done exactly as Eleanor had instructed.”

“She who?”

“He didn’t say. Eleanor told him to be sure that she kept it up. She said to do a little bit every day, nothing too big, just enough to keep the momentum going.”

“A little bit of what, I wonder?”

“I don’t know, but as they were walking out the door, Eleanor said that Glad was next.”

“Glad was next for what?”

Natalie threw her hands up. “Nell, stop asking me questions I don’t know the answers to. I told you everything I overheard. After Eleanor said that about Glad, she and Ed went outside the shop.”

“That’s when I saw them hugging and laughing,” I said.

“What could they be doing?”

“Whatever they’re doing, they certainly don’t hate each other.”

“Then why would Glad say they did?” Natalie asked. “And why is she next?”

“It’s not so much why that concerns me,” I said. “It’s what. What will happen to Glad?”

“I don’t know, but whatever happens, it will be because Eleanor told Ed to make it happen.”

CHAPTER 44

T
he answer to what would happen to Glad came just a few days later. I was in the middle of a great dream, getting my first good night’s sleep in days, when my cell phone rang at 6:25 AM.

“Is somebody dead?” I asked as I answered the phone. “Because it’s too early to call for any other reason.”