Free The Devil's Puzzle by Clare O'Donohue Page A

so.”
    “It’s a long shot, but he wouldn’t have kept a record of who got them?”
    “Heavens no,” Ed told him. “We just handed them out to whoever came through the door for a movie. I worked the ticket booth in the summers. I probably was the one who gave out that very poker chip.”
    I perked up at that. “Do you remember giving a chip out to a stranger?” I asked. “A tall man?”
    “Not that I recall, Nell. But if you find my fingerprints on the chip, I just want you to know how they got there.” He slapped Jesse on the back and laughed a loud, friendly laugh.

CHAPTER 14
    “S o, assuming that our friend went to the movies and collected a chip, he was in Archers Rest sometime between July 4th and July 18th of 1975,” Jesse said as we walked into Jitters for our usual cappuccinos and chocolate-dipped biscotti.
    He settled into the corner of the purple couch and I sat close enough for him to put his arm around me, while I rested my hand on his thigh.
    I sipped my coffee. “But you’ve already checked missing persons in the seventies, haven’t you?”
    “Yes. And got nothing. The thing to do now is ask about those years . . . you know, to find out what she remembers.”
    “You mean Eleanor?”
    “She was living there in 1975. She has to know something.” My head did an involuntary jerk as I pulled back from Jesse. He grabbed my arm to keep me from moving farther away. “I’m not saying Eleanor did it. Obviously she didn’t kill him. Eleanor wouldn’t harm anyone,” he said. “But even if I didn’t know Eleanor I’d still say it was pretty unlikely she killed a man in his prime, someone over six feet tall, all by herself. She wouldn’t have had the strength.”
    I relaxed back into his arms. “Just to play devil’s advocate, couldn’t she have shot him?”
    “Yes, but if she had, there would be bullet wounds. There aren’t. From what the medical examiner has been able to tell, he was hit over the head with something. Repeatedly. It would take someone pretty strong to do that.”
    “And you figure Eleanor wasn’t strong enough?”
    “You and she are about the same size. You’re only a few years younger than she would have been then. I’m about the same height and probably the same weight as the victim. Maybe a few years younger than he would have been. How many times could you hit me with something without my stopping you?”
    “If you were asleep, I could get in enough blows to kill you.”
    “I’ll sleep with one eye open from now on.”
    “But assuming the victim was asleep when he was killed,” I said, “then someone would have had to drag him out to the backyard, dig a hole, and dump him in.”
    “So asleep or awake, the killer would have to be pretty strong . . .”
    “And probably male.” It was hard to argue with his logic. “Unless the killer had help.”
    “Or a wheelbarrow,” Jesse admitted. “Then maybe she could have moved the body on her own. Or he could have. And if the victim were drunk, or drugged, his reflexes would be slower, making it easier to get a blow in.” He sighed. “With just a skeleton to work with, there’s no way of telling whether there were drugs in his system. So I guess we haven’t eliminated someone Eleanor’s size.”
    “Not yet. What’s the next step? We talk to Eleanor?”
    “Which she won’t like.”
    I sat up. “What if you came over for dinner? You, me, Oliver, and Eleanor. You could slip it into the conversation somehow.” I hesitated before adding, “But just so you know, she’s going to hint around about a wedding because she thinks you’re about to propose.”
    “She thinks what?”
    “She knows you and Oliver went to the jewelry store together and figured it was you buying the ring.”
    “Amateur sleuthing runs in the family.”
    “The point is, just go along with it because we don’t want her suspecting that it might be Oliver. Not until we’re sure why she’s against remarrying.”
    “Until you’re