Last Puzzle & Testament (27 page)

The heirs all pushed forward, with the exception of Daniel Hurley, who remained seated at the table, and regarded them with contempt. “That’s it, that’s it,” he said. “Hurry up and get your clues so you can get home in time to see me on TV. Elbow your way right in there as if an extra thirty seconds was going to make the slightest bit of difference. My, my, you’re a greedy lot.”

The heirs ignored him, continued to crowd around Cora Felton. She held them at bay, managed to accept one puzzle at a time to compare against the computer printout Sherry’d provided her with. The Applegates and Hurleys were letter perfect.

So was Daniel Hurley. When he finally submitted his puzzle Cora found he had corrected
Longa
and
Gar
. Cora handed him the new set of clues. He folded them up, jammed them in the pocket of his leather jacket, and strolled out the door without looking back at Becky Baldwin, who trailed along behind.

“What an insolent boy,” Cora Felton said as she gunned the motor and pulled away from the curb, after watching Daniel Hurley take off on his motorcycle with Becky Baldwin clinging to his shoulders.

“I kind of like him,” Sherry said.

Cora Felton groaned. “No, no, Sherry. Don’t make a big mistake. Like you did with Dennis. You don’t
really
like him. You just
think
you like him. Because you see him dumping on Becky what’s-her-name. It a tough thing to learn. If a guy treats a woman like dirt, it doesn’t make him a nice guy just because the woman he’s treating like dirt isn’t you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sherry said. “Where’s the puzzle? In your purse?”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“I’m a total moron,” Sherry said. “I thought I couldn’t do the puzzle till we got home because I didn’t have the grid. But we
have
the grid. We have the printout you just used to check the heirs’ puzzles.”

“Yeah, but it’s only got the first two quadrants,” Cora objected.

“That’s all right. I can probably fill in the third from memory. Plus, we got the clues.”

Sherry dug in Cora’s purse, came out with the grid and the sets of clues. She took out a pen, leaned on the door to brace herself against the swaying of the car, and went to work.

“The long clue is
laundromat,
which dictates the rest,” Sherry said, filling in the grid.

Without even looking at the clues, Sherry re-created the lower-left quadrant of the puzzle.

“There. Now for the new clues. The long one’s
fifteen?
I won’t get that till I get some going down. So, let’s see what I got.”

ACROSS

• 50. ____ a hatter
  
• 53. Stove
  
• 54. Friend (fr)
  
• 58. Fifteen?
  
• 62. Consumer
  
• 63. Observing
  
• 65. “Luck be a ____”
  
• 66. Shortstop
  

DOWN

• 37. Fraught with incident
  
• 42. Took off
  
• 46. Thought
  
• 47. Style
  
• 51. “Bather by the Sea” artist
  
• 54. Dead heat
  
• 55. ____ room
  
• 56. Playwright
  
• 59. “Lady ____ tramp”
  
• 60. Coloring
  

Sherry bent over the paper. The pen began flashing in her hand. “Uh oh,” she said. “We gotta go back.”

“What?” Cora said.

“Stop the car, turn around. We gotta go back to town.”

“How come?”

“It’s
five-and-ten.
”

“What?”

“
Fifteen.
It’s
five-and-ten.
”

“So? Any six-year-old knows that.”

“The solution to fifty-eight across. The clue’s
fifteen?
The answer is
five-and-ten. F-i-v-e-a-n-d-t-e-n.
We gotta go back to town and see if there’s a Woolworth.”

“There’s no Woolworth in Bakerhaven.”

“There’s gotta be. The last answer’s
five-and-ten.
That’s a Woolworth.”

“Didn’t they go bankrupt?” Cora said, but she turned the car around and headed back toward town. “So what’s the solution look like? What about the other clues?”

“What about them?”

“You’ve now completednow comp the puzzle?”

“Yes I have.”

“Every single word is filled in?”

“Of course.”

“Let me see.”

“You can’t read it while you’re driving.”

“I don’t want to read it. I just want to see it.”

“What’s the point of seeing it if you’re not going to read it?”

“Sherry. Humor me. Let me see the grid.”

“Then stop the car.”

“Control freak,” Cora muttered.

Cora pulled off the side of the road, put the car in park, grabbed the paper out of Sherry’s hand.

ACROSS

• 50. ____ a hatter
  
• 53. Stove
  
• 54. Friend (fr)
  
• 58. Fifteen?
  
• 62. Consumer
  
• 63. Observing
  
• 65. “Luck be a ____”
  
• 66. Shortstop
  

DOWN

• 37. Fraught with incident
  
• 42. Took off
  
• 46. Thought
  
• 47. Style
  
• 51. “Bather by the Sea” artist
  
• 54. Dead heat
  
• 55. ____ room
  
• 56. Playwright
  
• 59. “Lady ____ tramp”
  
• 60. Coloring
  

Cora read the completed puzzle. Frowned. “Is that all there is?”

“Yes, of course,” Sherry said.

“It doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh, you see that, do you?” Sherry said.

“Of course I do. I just figured there’d be some punch line or other. Unless it’s at the five-and-ten.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sherry said.

“Oh? What did you mean?”

“The answer itself.
Five-and-ten.
It’s not a pun.”

“So?”

“All the others are. This is just a straightforward clue.
Fifteen
does equal
five and ten.
”

“Are you saying you think
five-and-ten’s
wrong?”

“No. It has to be right. It’s just not a very good answer. But then, this isn’t the best of puzzles.”

gn="just“Maybe not,” Cora said. “But if that’s all there is—and there is no other hidden meaning that you can detect—then
five-and-ten
is the answer, and what we’re looking for must be at the five-and-ten.”

“It would seem so,” Sherry mused.

“So let’s go.” Cora slammed the car in gear, peeled out, headed back to Bakerhaven.

A mile down the road she pulled into a gas station.

“What are you doing?” Sherry said.

“If you don’t know, ask,” Cora said mysteriously. She stopped the car and got out.

The young man at the gas pumps smiled and said, “Can I help you, ladies?”

Cora smiled back. “Well, maybe you could. Would you happen to know if there’s a five-and-ten in town?”

“You mean a Woolworth?”

“That’s right,” Cora said placidly. “Is there one around here? Or did they go out of business?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know about that. ’Cause we never had one. It’s a rather small town.”

“That’s for sure,” Cora agreed. “So then, tell me this. What’s the closest thing Bakerhaven’s got to a Woolworth?”

The young man frowned, wiped the sweat off his brow. His hand was greasy, left a smudge on his forehead. “There’s a general store over the covered bridge, but that’s just a tourist trap. You’re talking old-fashioned dime store, right?”

Cora smiled. The attendant didn’t seem old enough to have ever
seen
an old-fashioned dime store. “Right,” she said. “Anything like that?”

“Not really. There’s one shop in town might qualify … But it’s a stretch.”

“What shop is that?”

“Little place on Main Street. Few doors down from the bakery. But it’s not really what you want.”

“You know the name of this little shop?”

He snuffled and pushed the hair off his forehead, smearing more grease.

“Odds and Ends.”

The woman behind the counter had her hair pulled back in a very severe-looking bun. When Cora and Sherry walked in she arched her eyebrows, said, “I hope you know what you want. We close promptly at five-thirty.”

Cora shot Sherry a look, turned to the woman, and beamed. “I must say I approve. There’s some of these stores that are open all day long and half the night. And in the long run, they don’t sell any more merchandise than the stores that close at six.”

“I close at five-thirty.”

“Even better,” Cora said. “Get you home for dinner.”

“Yes, but then people grumble that they can’t get here after work. I tell them that’s why I’m open Saturday.” The proprietor waggled her finger toward the shelves. “You want something, you better look around. I close in nine minutes.”

“Sherry’s shopping,” Cora informed her. “I’m just along for the ride.” She frowned, shook her head. “Terrible thing about Annabel Hurley.”

The proprietor’s face became animated for the first time. “Isn’t it now? Murdered. What a shocking thing. Who would want to kill a sweet woman like that?”

“Well,” Cora mused, “there is a lot of money at stake.”

“You mean the will? I guess so.” The proprietor’s ugly eyes widened. “Oh, for goodness sakes. It’s
you,
isn’t it? Well, that’s a stupid thing to say, of course it’s you. You’re the one in charge of the will.”

Cora Felton smiled. “Well, actually, the lawyer’s in charge of the will. I’m just judging the contest. I’m Cora Felton. Very nice to meet you.”

The proprietor shook her hand. “And I’m mighty pleased to meet you. I’m Mable Drake, and this is my little shop. Isn’t it terrible about Annabel? I was telling Mildred Sims just this afternoon—she’s the housekeeper, you know—I was telling Mildred she’s a lucky woman just to get a fixed amount, and not be mixed up in the whole mess. No offense meant, I know you’re just doing your job. But isn’t that a foolish way to leave one’s fortune? Is it any wonder people are getting killed?”

“You think Annabel Hurley was killed because of Emma’s will?”

“Don’t you?”

“It’s certainly possible,” Cora said pleasantly. “Do you have any reason to think so? Other than the amount of money involved?”

“Well, Mildred said …”

“Yes?”

“I probably shouldn’t repeat it.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cora agreed. “If you promised you wouldn’t.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly promise …”

“Well, if you feel you shouldn’t,” Cora said.

It was the right tack. Prying would have sealed her lips.

But faced with the suggestion that she not tell, Mable couldn’t wait to spill it.

“It’s that boy.”

“Oh?”

“Mildred Sims doesn’t trust the boy. With his beard, his motorcycle, and his nasty ways.”

“Nasty ways?”

Mable immediately began to backpedal. “Well, I don’t know about his nasty ways. I’m just going by what Mildred said. And she wasn’t happy, that’s for sure. Never seen her look so glum.”

“She was in here this afternoon?”

“That’s right.”

“Just to talk about the will?”

Mable Drake frowned, and her ugly eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“She didn’t come shopping, she just came to talk?”

“Don’t be silly,” Mable said. “What kind of a business would that be, people just come in to talk? She bought a new dish rack. Rack and tray. You know, the rubber tray that goes under. Always a good idea to replace. The mold builds up, no matter how well you think you clean.”