And a Puzzle to Die On (38 page)

“I’m tired of living a lie.”

Sherry Carter looked at her aunt in amusement. Cora Felton did not look like a liar. The white-haired, bespectacled lady looked like everyone’s favorite grandmother, the type that baked pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving, cookies at Christmastime, and cupcakes for no particular reason on any given occasion. Sherry, of course, knew better. Cora smoked, swore, gambled, had only recently given up drinking, and was somewhat hazy on the subject of how many husbands she’d had. “Mine or other people’s?” was her usual deflection.

“Good lord, Cora. Do you have another husband I haven’t heard of?”

“It’s entirely possible, but that isn’t what I meant.” Cora pointed at the computer screen, on
which Sherry was composing a puzzle in Crossword Compiler. “I’m tired of being the Puzzle Lady. I’m tired of feigning an expertise I have not got.”

Sherry nodded approvingly. “See? You even
sound
like the Puzzle Lady. Do you realize how much more elegant and refined your speech has become since you’ve been doing it?”

Cora responded with a remark that could hardly be considered elegant or refined by any stretch of the imagination.

“Aunt Cora!” Sherry remonstrated.

“Oh, pooh,” Cora retorted. “I’m the Milli Vanilli of the crossword-puzzle community. A hollow subterfuge that has stretched way thin.”

“You’re mixing metaphors.”

A toy poodle scampered into the office and yipped around Cora’s feet. She bent down, scooped him up. He nestled against her chest, nuzzled under her chin.

“Look at me,” Cora complained. “I used to be tough as nails. Now I’m a dotty old woman with a dog.”

“We don’t have to keep the dog,” Sherry pointed out. “He’s here on a trial run.”

“Shh! He’ll hear you!” Cora hissed. “Buddy, don’t listen to her. Cut it out, Sherry. I’m not getting rid of the D-O-G just to make a point.”

“And just what point are you making, Cora?”

“I’m not comfortable taking credit for something I don’t do. I think it’s time you were recognized for your work.”

“I don’t want to be recognized.”

“Why not? It’s not like you’re hiding from your ex-husband anymore. Dennis knows you’re the Puzzle Lady. He also knows where you live. What have you got to lose?”

“My privacy, for one thing.”

“Oh? But it’s all right for me to lose mine?”

“It’s not the same thing, Aunt Cora.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t
do
anything.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Sherry shrugged. “I create the puzzles. Losing your privacy is your
entire
contribution to the project.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

Cora jerked a pack of cigarettes out of her floppy, drawstring purse.

“I thought you weren’t going to smoke in here,” Sherry observed.

“That only works when you agree with me,” Cora snapped. “When you argue with me, I gotta smoke.” Buddy squirmed and yipped. “Oh, was I squeezing too tight?” She set the poodle down. “All right, I’ll go outside. You wanna come, too, or should I finish this conversation myself?”

Sherry followed Cora down the hall through
the living room and out the front door of the modest prefab rental she and her aunt shared together. The house wasn’t much, except for the location. On a scenic country road in Bakerhaven, Connecticut, with no near neighbors, the one-acre lot was an idyllic setting.

Cora stopped on the front step, but Buddy pelted by and yipped around the yard. It was mud season, and the tiny poodle’s white feet were rapidly turning black.

“You’ll wash him off before he comes in the house?” Sherry said.

“Why is it always me?” Cora groused. “Why don’t you wash him off?”

“I do when you’re not here.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s this crap about
I
don’t do anything? How does that have anything to do with
you
owning up to what
you
do?”

“It’s a partnership. I supply the work, you supply the image.”

“I
hate
the image. I gotta be decorous in public, while you run around in jeans and a sweater. Is that fair? You’re young and attractive and you happen to look
good
in jeans and a sweater.”

Before Cora quit drinking she had often appeared far from decorous in public, but Sherry wasn’t about to point that out. “What’s really the matter, Cora?”

Cora puffed in smoke, watched the dog
cavorting on the lawn. “I told you what’s the matter. I’m tired of the deception. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not.”

“Cora. You’ve hated the deception from the word go. Why do you want to quit
now
?”

“Oh.”

“Ah! There’s an
oh
?”

“It’s the damn cereal company.”

“The damn cereal company that put you on TV? You’d like to give that up?”

“Sherry …”

“What have they done?”

“They’ve come out with a new cereal.”

“And they want you to promote it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s wonderful, Cora. That probably pays our rent for a year. We might even think of buying this place, knocking it down, and building something better.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s not a
new
cereal. It’s the same
old
cereal, it’s just
new and improved
.”

“So what?”

“I hate that. It’s like saying, ‘The stuff I’ve been selling you for years is crap, but, hang on, I got something better.’ ”

“All products do that. It’s called progress.”

“It’s humiliating.”

“No, it’s great. The product launch is a gold mine. So you have to tape some TV ads. What’s the big deal?”

Cora exhaled an angry drag. “They want me to tour.”

“What?”

“They want me to make
personal appearances
.” Her tone was scathing. “They want me to do
supermarkets. Shopping centers. Malls
. They want me to be there hawking their products. They want to let kids meet the Puzzle Lady. Like a Macy’s
Santa
.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m not good with kids, Sherry. Kids have sticky hands and snotty noses. And a complete and utter lack of tact. They stand there and tell me to my face I look older than their grandmother. It’s all I can do to keep from telling them that’s ’cause their mother got knocked up when she was fifteen.”

“I see your point. Can you do the ads and not the tour?”

“No. ’Cause they’re shooting the ads
on
the tour.” Cora snorted. “It’s all this goddamned reality TV. They want real kids trying the cereal for the first time. Along with the Puzzle Lady. And I
hate
cold cereal. Give me ham and eggs and a buttered muffin.”

Sherry Carter looked at her aunt. “You really
want to do this? Tell people you’re a fake, I mean?”

“I got some money put away. Not just from this, but from my alimony and property settlements. If ever there was a time, it’s now.”

“If you give it up, what are you going to do?”

Cora shrugged. “Hold a press conference. Do the
Today Show
. We could go on
Oprah
together, tell our story. I could abdicate the throne. Like the way I said
abdicate
?”

“I’m not going on TV, Cora.”

“You may think you’re not, but TV’s gonna find you.”

“You’d do that to me?”

“I’m not doing it
to
you. You pushed me out front for years. Was that doing it to
me
? It’s just the way it goes. Hey, Buddy!” Cora yelled. The little poodle had ventured too far down the drive for her liking. He halted at the sound of her voice, scampered across the lawn.

“Fine,” Sherry said. “That’s not what I mean. If you’re not the Puzzle Lady, what will you do?”

“Pretty much the same as I do now. I mean, it’s not like I spend any time on crossword puzzles. All I do is film a commercial or two a year. At least until this damn tour came up.”

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“Why not?”

“Right now people cut you a lot of slack because
you’re the most famous woman in town. Give it up, you’ll be the most
in
famous woman in town. You’re gonna spend most of your time apologizing to people for duping them. People don’t
like
to be duped. It makes them feel stupid. People
resent
a person who makes them feel stupid. They could make her life a living hell.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think our friends would come around.”

“Maybe.” Sherry said it without enthusiasm. “You’re doing this just to get out of a tour?”

“Would
you
want to do a supermarket tour?” Cora countered.

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Well, at least we agree on one thing.”

The phone rang. Sherry ducked back inside to answer it.

Cora sat on the front step to play with the dog. The concrete stoop was cold despite her tweed skirt. Cora didn’t mind. She put out her arms, lifted the little dog up into her lap.

“You going to snub Mommie if she’s not a celebrity? No, you’re not. You won’t care at all.”

From the kitchen Sherry shouted, “Cora!”

“Ooh,” Cora said. “I hope that’s a poker game. Mommie could use a poker game. Come on, Buddy. Let’s go in.”

Cora set the poodle down in the living room,
and went to answer the phone. “Who is it?” she asked as Sherry handed her the receiver.

“Don’t know. He asked for Miss Felton.”

“As long as he didn’t ask for the darn Puzzle Lady.” Cora took the phone, said, “Hello?”

“Miss Felton?”

“Yes.”

“This is Charles Coleson, Truestar Investments.”

Cora groaned. “Not again.”

“Miss Felton—”

“I told you. I don’t want to diversify.”

“Yes, you did. And we haven’t. We’ve kept all your stock right where you had it. That’s why I’m calling.”

“What do you mean?”

Cora could hear Charles Coleson take a breath.

“Miss Felton, I’m afraid I have some rather bad news.”

A Clue for the Puzzle Lady
Last Puzzle & Testament
Puzzled to Death
A Puzzle in a Pear Tree
With This Puzzle, I Thee Kill

AND COMING SOON IN BANTAM HARDCOVER:

Stalking the Puzzle Lady

Nominated for the prestigious Edgar, Shamus, and Lefty awards, PARNELL HALL is the author of six Puzzle Lady mysteries and is currently working on his seventh,
Stalking the Puzzle Lady
, coming from Bantam in November. He lives in New York City.