"Not yet. When he or she gets the final bid, I'll find out his or her name."

"If you say he or she every time, I'll strangle you."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to wait out here while I get my coffee. Then I'll be in a much better mood."

"You don't want me to go in with you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't stop talking, and I don't want you spreading this around."

"I can talk about something else."

"I can't. Sit down. Relax. It's a nice morning."

Harvey reluctantly sat on the bench in front of the window.

Cora sighed. That was the problem with letting people like Harvey do you a favor. You had to talk to them. At least she didn't have to marry him.

Cora went into the bakeshop and ordered a cappuccino and an apricot scone. Life immediately looked better. She found Harvey sitting on the bench outside.

"That looks good," Harvey said. "What is it?"

"An apricot scone."

"Oh. I'm having a chocolate croissant. But that scone looks awfully good."

"Oh. Did you want a bite?"

"No. I'm just showing you I can talk about something else."

"You don't have to now," Cora said.

"I know. I was just showing you I could."

"I'm impressed. What about the chairs?"

"You have a bid of a hundred dollars."

"That's the only bid?"

"Yes, of course."

"Why of course ?"

"That was the asking bid."

"I thought you were going to start at twenty bucks apiece."

"I looked at some other chairs. Twenty-five seemed more in line."

Cora kept the smile plastered on her face, but inwardly she groaned. Harvey was such a fussy little noodge. Why'd she ever get involved with him? "You have no idea who this is?"

"No." Harvey reached in his vest pocket, took out a small, fastidiously folded piece of paper. "I have the e-mail address. If you want to write to him. Or her."

"I swear to God, Harvey, one more him or her and you'll bleed from the nose."

"It's sbk@aol.com. That's not much help. It could be anyone. If you want to write this person, you can. Otherwise, I won't know their name until the bidding closes."

"When is that?"

"Next Tuesday night."

"Oh, hell," Cora said. "So, for all we know, this could be someone who just wants cheap chairs."

"Right. There's no way to tell unless someone else bids."

"What are the odds of that?"

"Well, if no one bids in the next twenty-four hours, I'd say they were poor. On some items, of course, people wait, try to put in a bid at the last minute. That's on more expensive items, which generate more interest. On something like this, who could really care?"

"Who, indeed?" Cora said.

The young mom with the stroller came down the block. At the sight of Cora, her face lit up hopefully.

"Oh, how cute," Mimi said. "You puzzle people talking together. Oh, you darling!" she added, as Cora handed her the paper. "Just in the nick of time. I hope this helps."

Mimi flashed them a dazzling smile, and wheeled her stroller into the bakeshop.

"What's that all about?" Harvey asked.

"Oh. She's having trouble with her husband."

"What did you give her?"

"A prescription for Cialis."

Harvey looked astounded.

"Oh, for goodness' sakes," Cora said. "Get a sense of humor. She wanted a crossword puzzle for her husband. To smooth over a spat."

"And you did that for her? You've got a heart of gold, Cora. A heart of gold."

"Yeah, I'm the cat's meow. About this bid..."

"Like I say, that's all we can tell for the moment. Unless someone else bids on the item."

"You know anyone would like some nice chairs?"

"Oh, I couldn't have a friend bid," Harvey said. "That would be dishonest."

"Heaven forbid."

"Was that intentional?"

"Was what intentional?"

"The play on the word bid."

Cora wondered which answer would get her in more trouble. "Frankly, I didn't notice."

"It's probably automatic," Harvey said. "I bet you could do it in your sleep."

Cora smiled. "That's a hell of a straight line, Harvey, but I'm not gonna bite."

Cora went home, logged on to the Internet, and checked out eBay. Harvey had done a nice job scanning in the picture of the chair. And he had one bid, for one hundred dollars.

It occurred to Cora it would be a shame if that was the only bid. After all, a hundred dollars was pretty damn cheap for four rattan chairs.

Cora bid $120.

Chapter 10.

CHUCK DILLINGER SCOWLED." What's this?"

"For you, sweetheart." Mimi had placed Cora's crossword puzzle inside a Hallmark greeting card. On the envelope she'd written For my sweetheart.

He looked at her. "This is from you?"

"In a way."

"In what way?" Chuck said.

Mimi could sense the irritation in his voice. He'd had a long day at work, he wanted a drink, and she'd hit him with a puzzle the minute he walked in the door. "Sorry, honey. It's from me, but I didn't do it. I mean, I didn't make it. You'll see when you open it."

That explanation neither enlightened nor appeased Chuck. He appeared not sure what to say next.

The baby's bawling saved him.

"Oh, dear," Mimi said, and rushed for the crib.

Chuck flipped the envelope on the coffee table, went to the mini-bar, and poured himself a scotch. He took off his shoes, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt collar. He sat in an easy chair, put his feet up on the coffee table. Took a huge sip of scotch, exhaled.

Mimi sat on the couch, patted the baby on her shoulder. "Hard day at the office?"

"Well, I didn't make partner, and I didn't get fired."

Mimi was glad to hear it. That was Chuck's whimsical response for an average day. He wouldn't have said it if anything was really wrong.

"Did you open your card?"

"No, I made my drink. What's the card all about?"

"Open it. I'll tell you."

The envelope wasn't sealed, just had the flap stuck in. Chuck pulled out the card. " 'To a wonderful father.' Honey, it's not Father's Day."

"I know."

Inside read: With love, signed, Mimi.

"What's this?" Chuck unfolded the paper.

He stared at the puzzle. "What the hell is this all about?"

"It's a present. I had the Puzzle Lady make it special. Just for you."

"You what?"

"Come on, dear, solve it. See what it says."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No. Go on."

"Mimi. I've had a long day. I'm in no mood to solve a crossword puzzle."

"I'll help you. In fact, you don't have to do anything. Just sit there and have your drink, and I'll fill it in."

"You've got the baby."

"Yes, and what a little angel. See, she's gone to sleep on my shoulder. Come on, here we go."

With her husband's grudging help, Mimi filled in the puzzle. She'd practiced with a xerox copy, to make sure she could. Her husband was not a patient man. It would spoil everything if she had trouble solving it.

When she was finished, Chuck said, "So?"

Mimi pointed.