Verwandte Artikel zu Puzzled to Death

9780553801026: Puzzled to Death
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0553801023 ISBN 13: 9780553801026
Verlag: Bantam Dell Pub Group, 2001

Inhaltsangabe

When her hometown of Bakerhaven, Connecticut, decides to host a charity crossword puzzle tournament, Cora Felton, "the Puzzle Lady," is reluctant to become involved, until the mysterious death of one of the celebrity contestants forces Cora into the role of amateur sleuth to find the killer.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Parnell Hall is the author of the critically acclaimed Stanley Hastings mystery novels and the Steve Winslow courtroom dramas, as well as two previous Puzzle Lady mysteries, the first of which, A Clue for the Puzzle Lady, was voted Best New Discovery by Mystery Guild readers. He has been nominated for the Edgar, the Shamus, and the Lefty Awards. He lives in New York City, where he is currently working on his fourth Puzzle Lady mystery, A Puzzle in a Pear Tree.

Aus dem Klappentext

s Puzzle Lady mysteries have been praised as fun from the first page (The Dallas Morning News) and heaven for crossword puzzle fans (Kirkus Reviews). Now Hall s unlikely pair of crime solvers, Miss Cora Felton and her niece Sherry Carter, return to piece together an unforgettable tale of jealousy, infidelity, and murder....

Puzzled to Death

Bakerhaven, Connecticut, seems like the ideal place to host a charity crossword-puzzle tournament. After all, the town is home to noted crossword creator Harvey Beerbaum, as well as to Cora Felton, the beloved syndicated puzzle columnist known everywhere as the Puzzle Lady.

Why shouldn t the pair co-host the festivities and crown the winner? Truth be told, Cora has a long list of reasons, but her niece Sherry insists she must accept ... or Cora s fans may discover who secretly pens the column.

As Cora grudging

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1

Cora Felton pulled the heavy knit sweater around her shoulders, crinkled her nose, squinted her eyes against the sun, and declared: “I. Hate. Fall.”

Her niece, Sherry Carter, smiled indulgently. “You don’t hate fall, Cora. You’re just not used to it.”

“I’ll say.” Cora Felton kicked her foot absently at the dead oak and maple leaves that adorned the front lawn. “We don’t have seasons in the city. It’s warmer or colder, and that’s it. Unless you go to the park, and why would I do that? There are no stores in the park.”

“That’s very true,” Sherry agreed. She hiked up the sleeves on her green fleece pullover, stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans, and tilted her chin up. “Just breathe that morning air.”

“I can breathe it inside,” Cora muttered. “That’s why we have windows. What are we doing out here?”

In point of fact, Sherry Carter had lured Cora Felton out to the lawn of their tidy little Connecticut house in the hope that the brisk November air would take the edge off Cora’s hangover. Sherry’s aunt had been cranky at breakfast and seemed on the verge of mixing her second Bloody Mary, always a bad sign. Sherry loved her aunt dearly and looked out for Cora’s welfare, usually against Cora’s will.

Sherry smiled. “Cora, we’re out here for just the reason you said. To notice the seasons. Something we don’t do in Manhattan. I mean, isn’t this a gorgeous day? And here we are, on a beautiful woodsy lot, on a deserted country road, no neighbors to speak of, the only sign of civilization the power line up the driveway. What’s not to like?”

Cora Felton smiled, her patented trademark smile that lit up the picture that adorned the nationally syndicated crossword-puzzle column that ran under her name. “Sherry, sweetheart, it’s nice. It’s just not New York. I mean, take food, for instance. In my apartment, I open the kitchen drawer, I got twenty or thirty menus from the best restaurants in town that can be there at the drop of a hat. Can you name me one restaurant in Bakerhaven that delivers?”

“You could take a cooking class,” Sherry suggested.

“I’d rather get married again.”

“Aunt Cora.”

“At my age, a husband wouldn’t be nearly as annoying as some teacher telling me what to do.” Cora yawned and stretched. “Well, that’s enough of nature. Time for a drink.”

“Little early in the day to be drinking,” Sherry ventured.

“It’s fall,” Cora replied. “There’s a time change. We set our clocks back. I’m still on daylight savings time.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“What’s your point?”

“You remember why we came out here?” Sherry asked. “We were going to walk around the house. So far we’ve managed to get down the front steps. Not good enough, Aunt Cora. We’re going to stroll the perimeter of the property.” Sherry took Cora’s arm, led her away as she talked. “At least the tree line. I like the sound of that, don’t you? The tree line. Doesn’t it sound like we have a couple of hundred acres, instead of only one?”

“You’re awfully talkative this morning,” Cora grumbled. “Without really mentioning anything. And you’re in a awfully good mood. Was Aaron here last night?”

Sherry flushed slightly. Lately she’d been seeing quite a lot of the young Bakerhaven Gazette reporter. “Aaron stopped by after work. Why do you ask?”

“I have no sex life of my own at the moment, I have to live vicariously. I didn’t see his car when I got home. I guess he didn’t stay over.”

“Aunt Cora.”

“And you couldn’t go home with him, since he lives with his parents. It must be tough being young.” Cora stopped, looked around. “Okay, this is the backyard. I remember it from last summer. There’s the picnic table, there’s the grill. As I recall, on various occasions you made hamburgers, steak, and a couple of kinds of fish. How’m I doin’ so far? And look at these leaves.” Cora kicked her feet. “They’re so deep back here you can hardly walk. Tell you what, if there’s a rake down in the cellar, maybe I’ll clean ‘em up.”

“There’s no cellar. It’s a prefab house built on a slab.”

“There’s no cellar?”

“You don’t know we don’t have a cellar?”

Cora smiled and patted Sherry on the cheek. Her cornflower blue eyes twinkled. “Then I guess I can’t rake the leaves. Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

Cora took two steps, struck a pose, jerked her thumb. “Come on, pardner. Let’s check out the north forty.”

Sherry Carter smiled to herself. Her plan was working. Once around the house and her aunt was in a much better mood.

Cora rounded the corner of the house and stopped abruptly, looking toward the road. Sherry hurried to catch up with her.

A blue Nissan was coming up the drive, but with the sun glinting off the windshield, Sherry couldn’t see its driver.

“That’s not Aaron’s car,” Cora observed. “Who can that be?”

The Nissan pulled to a stop next to Cora Felton’s red Toyota. The door opened, and a nebbishy little man in a herringbone tweed suit climbed out. He ran his hand over his bald head, pushed thick-lensed glasses up his nose, then turned and carefully and deliberately locked his car door in a decidedly fussy manner.

Cora Felton’s face fell. “Prim, prissy, picayune, precise,” she muttered. “It’s what’s-his-name. The walking thesaurus.”

“Harvey Beerbaum,” Sherry murmured.

It was indeed the noted cruciverbalist, whose crossword puzzles often graced the pages of The New York Times. He spotted Cora Felton, smiled, and waved.

“Oh, my God, look at his face,” Cora muttered under her breath. “He wants to marry me. Sherry, promise you won’t let me.”

“Aunt Cora — ” Sherry hissed.

“Promise me.”

“He doesn’t want to marry you.”

“What, you think I’m too old?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Sherry, you let me marry that man, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“You’re not going to marry him.”

“What if he asks me?”

“Just say no.”

“What are you, Nancy Reagan? I have a problem with marriage proposals. You know how many times I’ve been married?”

“I lost count after Henry.”

“So did I. Back me up, Sherry. Here he comes.”

The puzzle-maker came bustling across the lawn on little cat feet, with a neatly tied bow tie around his chubby neck and a beatific smile on his baby face. All he needed was a fat bouquet of flowers or a jeweler’s box with an engagement ring to pass as a hopeful suitor. Harvey Beerbaum was empty-handed, and yet he looked so animated that for a split second Sherry began to share her aunt’s apprehensions — the man was going to ask for Cora’s hand.

Fortunately, on reaching Cora Felton, Harvey Beerbaum did not fall on one knee. Instead, he grabbed both of her hands, clasped them joyously, and declared,...

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Verlag
Bantam Dell Pub Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2001
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0553801023
ISBN 13 
9780553801026
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
340
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