And a Puzzle to Die On Read Free

know it was my birthday, you wouldn’t know to look.”
    “Aunt Cora …”
    “Why are we talking about this? No one knows it’s my birthday. And don’t you dare say a word. It’s bad enough getting older without everyone making a fuss.”
    “You don’t want anyone to know?” Sherry said.
    “I always knew you were bright.” Cora patted Sherry on the cheek, opened the front door.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Out for a cigarette. Since you won’t let me smoke in here.”
    Sherry sniffed the air. “You’ve
been
smoking in here.”
    “Well, you weren’t home.”
    Cora wrenched the cigarettes out of her purse and went on out. Sherry closed the door behind her. Cora frowned, fished in her purse for her lighter, lit up a smoke. She wished she’d had more notice of Sherry coming home. That was the problem with the office in the back of the house. You didn’t always hear the car.
    Cora managed to take another drag before Sherry burst out the front door.
    “Aunt Cora! You’re on-line.”
    “So?”
    “You can’t walk off and leave the computer on-line. It ties up the phone.”
    “You expecting a call?”
    “And when did you learn to use the computer anyway? I thought you barely knew how to turn it on.”
    “You
left
it on.”
    “But you can’t smoke in the office. Do you know what it smells like?”
    “Do you know what you
sound
like? My head’s spinning. Pick a topic and go with it.”
    “Oh, get in here.” Sherry pointed to the cigarette. “I mean, put that out and get in here.”
    Cora ground the cigarette out with her heel, followed Sherry meekly through the house, into the study. Cora placed the butt in the china saucer on the desk.
    Sherry ignored the makeshift ashtray, pointed to the computer. “Do you know how many screens you have open?”
    “No. How would I?”
    “Well, for one thing you could count the little icons down here at the bottom. That will tell you how many programs you’ve shrunk.”
    “If you say so.”
    “What do you mean, if I say so? You opened and shrunk them.” Sherry looked at her aunt in amazement. “Cora. You actually know what you’re doing.”
    “Well, let’s not get carried away.”
    “That’s excellent advice, Cora. Coming from a woman doing seven things at once.”
    “Seven?”
    “Well, let’s see.” Sherry began expanding and shrinking the icons at the bottom of the screen to see what they were. “You’re on Amazon.com.” Sherry shrunk the icon, opened another. “And on Barnes and Noble. And on the Advanced Book Exchange.”
    “I was comparing prices.”
    “And on the
As the World Turns
website.”
    “I missed an episode.”
    “How could you miss an episode?”
    “I was on-line.”
    “No kidding. You’re on eBay, where you appear to be bidding on a makeup kit.”
    “Right,” Cora said. “I don’t have a makeup kit. And you know how often I appear on television.”
    “And a hedge trimmer,” Sherry said accusingly.
    “Look how cheap it is.”
    “We don’t have a hedge.”
    “What’s your point?”
    “You also appear to be in a chat room with someone named Ralph.”
    “Ralph is very nice.”
    “I’m glad you think so.”
    “Huh?” Cora leaned forward, peered at the message on the screen. Flushed slightly. “Well, maybe I misjudged Ralph. He certainly
seemed
nice.”
    “I’m sure he is. If you’re particularly limber.” Sherryshook her head. “I was wondering why I was getting so much spam lately.”
    “So much what?”
    “Junk e-mail’s called spam, Cora. Even you should know that. You attract it by the places you go on the Internet. And the places the people you contact have gone. I would imagine your friend Ralph has been fairly active.”
    “Are you enjoying beating me up like this?” Cora demanded. “So what was it you wanted to tell me, before you got distracted playing Humiliate the Aunt?”
    “Oh. Nothing. It just occurred to me, you’ve got way too much time on your hands.”
    The phone rang. Sherry