The Ghost and the Femme Fatale by Alice Kimberly Page B

challenged was an obvious shock. He glanced at Ciders, who shrugged and looked away.
    “Mrs. McClure . . .” The doctor stepped closer. He lowered his voice. “If Dr. Lilly were actually murdered—that is to say, if a person had entered this store and killed her, there would have been clues that I would not have missed.”
    “Such as?” I folded my arms and tapped my foot.
    “Dr. Lilly would have resisted an attack, you see?” he explained in painfully slow syllables. “If she fought and the killer had to subdue her, there would be marks on her arms, perhaps her throat.”
    The doctor made gestures to his arm and neck, as if I were still learning the names of body parts. “These bruises or scratches are called ‘defensive’ wounds.” He put air quotes around “defensive.”
    Will ya tell this clown you’ve learned the alphabet already? Didn’t I tell you Ivy Leaguers are the worst?
    “Yes, yes,” I told the doctor (and Jack). “I know what defensive wounds are. But what if someone pushed Dr. Lilly off that ladder? Or pulled the ladder out from under her?”
    Dr. Rubino rubbed his forehead. He glanced at Chief Ciders, who suddenly looked our way again with a questioning expression.
    I congratulated myself. Now at least the chief was considering the possibility of foul play!
    “Well . . . I suppose it’s possible ,” Dr. Rubino was forced to admit. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “But it would be a one- in- ten chance that Dr. Lilly’s head would strike the platform. For someone to push her so she landed in just such a way as to cause death...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “No, I just don’t see that as likely.”
    Chief Ciders sighed and looked away again.
    “But someone could have pushed her,” I quickly countered, trying to pry the chief’s mind back open. “That same someone could have dragged Dr. Lilly to the stage and made sure her head struck it before she had a chance to fight back.”
    “Chief, the ambulance is here,” Officer Franzetti called.
    Ciders slapped his knee with the clipboard. “Good. We’ve spent enough time here.”
    “But—”
    “That’s enough, Mrs. McClure,” said the chief. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you.” He glanced around at the novels on our shelves. “It’s no wonder,” he muttered condescendingly, “the business you’re in.”
    “I didn’t imagine last night’s attempt on Dr. Lilly’s life—”
    “It was an accident ,” Ciders shot back. “Last night and this morning, and that’s how I’m reporting both incidences.” The chief moved to the front door, and then turned to face me. “If I were you, Mrs. McClure, I’d forget about trying to sell that cock- and- bull story of yours and hire a good lawyer. Your business is likely to get slapped with a lawsuit over this. So brace yourself for more bad news: My accident report will probably send your insurance premiums soaring.”
    A SHORT TIME later, Chief Ciders and his nephew were parting the crowd in front of my store to make way for a grim pro cession. Along with everyone else, I watched the para medics carry Dr. Lilly’s bagged- up body to the waiting ambu lance. Her remains would be delivered to the local hospital, where Dr. Rubino was scheduled to perform an autopsy later in the day.
    Officer Franzetti lingered behind and, to my surprise, so did Dr. Rubino. “You don’t mind if I browse a little, do you?” the doctor asked me. “It’s my day off, and I haven’t read a good book in awhile.”
    “Be our guest,” Sadie called when I failed to answer.
    The doctor nodded then put a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like a prescription, Mrs. McClure?” he said quietly. “I can write one for you, just something to calm your nerves. I’m actually a little worried about your reaction to all of this.”
    I fixed a level gaze on him. “I’m not in shock, Doctor. And I’m not delusional, either, despite what Chief Ciders