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Cora said, sarcastically. “Good thing it didn’t say put the steak in a Cuisinart.”
    “You have a point.” Chief Harper took a bite of muffin. “What about the sudoku?”
    “Right here.”

    Cora passed it over.
    Harper frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
    “Absolutely nothing, Chief. You wanted it solved, so I solved it. But it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
    “I suppose.” Harper cocked his head. “About that publisher …”
    “Oh. You check him out?”
    “Yeah. Respectable Japanese businessman. Publishes many American authors. Excellent reputation. Eager to make a name for himself. That’s why he’d go out of his way to come here to meet you.”
    “I see.”
    “So what’s his story? Did you stand the guy up?”
    “No. Why?”
    “He was in here a half hour ago wanting to know if I’d seen you. Apparently, he’d been asking around, got the impression you hung out here.” Harper shrugged. “I can’t imagine why. You were supposed to sign something. About doing a book.”
    “What is he, nuts? Sherry signed it last night.”

    “But you didn’t?”
    “I don’t have to. She’s got my power of attorney. He knew that.”
    “Well, he must have misunderstood. The guy seemed pretty upset.”
    The phone rang.
    Chief Harper scooped it up. “Bakerhaven police. Harper, here … Really … What did you find? … Can you fax that over? … What about his office? … Any record of who hired him? … Uh-huh. Okay, fax me the records.”
    He hung up the phone. “New York police. They still haven’t found the guy’s car. Or any indication where he was killed. Apparently, it wasn’t his home or his office.”
    Cora was looking at him. “What was that you were saying about any record of who hired him?”
    “Well, it appears the dead man was a private investigator.”
    “ Really? Why wasn’t he carrying any identification?”
    Chief Harper said nothing.
    “Oh. He was carrying ID, but you didn’t see fit to tell me.”
    “You didn’t ask.”
    “No, I didn’t,” Cora said, drily. “If I had, Aaron could have put it in the paper. Instead of that bit about puzzles.”
    “The guy was a PI. We have no idea who hired him or what he was working on at the time of his death. We’ll be going over his records looking for a clue. As soon as we find one, I’ll be sure to pass it on.”
    “That’s nice of you, Chief.”
    “I’m not holding out on you, Cora. It’s just at the moment, I got nothing to go on.”
    “Are you asking me to solve the case for you, Chief?”
    “Absolutely not. And you can quote me on that. It’s a police matter, in which you have no business meddling.” Chief Harper waggled his finger at her sternly. “And any evidence you may find while not meddling in it, you bring directly to me.”

Chapter 11
    Sherry Carter was getting a jump on the next day’s puzzle when a car came up the drive. She frowned. Aaron was back too soon. Another fifteen minutes and she’d have had it knocked. She should call him on his cell phone, send him on an errand to the store.
    It occurred to her that was not the type of thing a young woman should do until after she was married. When it crossed her mind, she was angry. Why did she have that thought? That was not her thought. That was Cora’s thought. That was a cynical old married woman’s thought. Not the happy, carefree thought of a young woman in love.
    Okay, Sherry realized. Her initial premise was wrong. She should not be irritated that Aaron was back early. She should be delighted. She should meet him at the door. Perhaps in a special garment. Well, let’s not go overboard. It was, after all, still mid-morning on a Monday. A cheerful “how do you do” should suffice.
    Sherry heard Aaron at the front door. She slapped a smile on her face, skittered down the hall.

    Stopped dead.
    Dennis Pride stood in the doorway. He’d been drinking. Sherry didn’t even have to smell his breath. Not that he was disheveled. He wore a suit and