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

sure. I’m staying out of that. Even if you are helping with the murder investigation.”
    “I’m helping you talk to Eleanor in a way that will be open and relaxed, so she won’t think you’re accusing her of something.”
    “Oliver and I are lucky men to love such interesting women.”
    I grazed his lips with mine. “It’s amazing how often we agree these days, isn’t it?”
    I had just settled back into his arms when I heard a booming voice from above. “Hello, lovebirds.”
    I looked up at our mayor, smiling at us, his favorite green tea in one hand and a double-chocolate brownie in the other.
    “I like to balance my bad habits with good ones,” Larry said when he saw me looking at his food.
    “Smart man.” I smiled.
    With him was a young woman in her late teens or early twenties with an intense, almost angry look. She had long black hair—so dark that it could only be from a bottle—long black fingernails, and a large Celtic cross hanging from her neck. But she was wearing a soft pink lipstick that matched her outfit, a light T-shirt, and khaki pants. She looked as though she were trying to be Goth enough for her friends and country club enough for her parents, though neither look was a perfect fit.
    “This is Molly O’Brien. Summer intern down from Newton. She’s helping with the anniversary celebration. She’ll coordinate with the committee chairs,” the mayor nodded toward me, “on anything they may need.”
    Molly smiled vaguely at us but seemed bored.
    “And Molly,” he turned to her, “this is our chief of police, and this is Nell Fitzgerald. It was in her grandmother’s garden that we found our skeleton.”
    Now Molly was interested. “I saw the mayor’s blog,” she said, her voice more animated with each word. “It’s so cool. A dead body just buried in your backyard all these years. Any idea who he is?”
    “Not yet,” Jesse said.
    The mayor sat on the arm of the couch and leaned in. Larry Williams owned the local travel agency, sold insurance, and from January to April did the taxes of nearly half the town. He’d even set his sons up in a hardware store that served as one of his many unofficial campaign offices. And when Larry wasn’t working, he was helping. He had a jovial, laid-back way about him, but he was absolutely passionate about Archers Rest.
    “We have to talk about this skeleton situation, Chief,” he said.
    “We’re doing everything we can to identify the victim,” Jesse said.
    “Oh, I’m sure you are. It’s just I’m thinking of the big celebration this Fourth of July.”
    Jesse nodded. “And you don’t want this becoming bad publicity for the town. Which is why posting pictures on your blog is a bad idea . . .”
    The mayor waved him off. “On the contrary. I want this to be huge publicity for the town. A skeleton in a backyard in a small town like Archers Rest? If we can get you a few interviews with some of the New York papers, talking about how the town is full of secrets, maybe even ghosts . . .”
    “Ghosts!” I nearly spit out my coffee.
    “City folks love staying in haunted bed-and-breakfasts, visiting old houses where spirits still roam,” he said, with a confidence that suggested he’d done a study of it.
    “Mayor,” Jesse interrupted, “there aren’t any ghosts in this investigation.”
    “You don’t know that,” Molly jumped in. “The house with the skeleton has to be full of ghosts. I’d love to see it sometime. Poke around for spirits. It’s at least a hundred years old, isn’t it, Nell?”
    “A hundred and thirty,” I told her. “But no ghosts.”
    “But those New Yorkers don’t have to know that.” Larry looked around as if he were afraid of being overheard, which was likely considering how loudly he spoke. “We have a picturesque little town here, right on the banks of the beautiful Hudson River. We have the nicest people in the world, the best shops, great little coffee places like this one. What we don’t have