That's a game show, dollface. Guessing's fine when you're playing for Cracker Jack prizes, not when you're dealing out life and death-and believe me, I'm the voice of experience.

"Wait a second, Jack! Can't you… I don't know, commune with the spirit world? Maybe get in touch with Dr. Lilly? Ask her what happened when she was alone in the store?"

Sorry, baby, but this tomb's all mine. Unless you take me places, I'm a prisoner in this glorified library. And as far as "communing" with my fellow dead, nobody's ever stuck around here to tell me squat. I wish I could call up some company, doll. I can think of a few hot skirts from my past I wouldn't mind looking up.

"And are you sure you don't have any idea what happened in the store while I was out on the sidewalk?"

I'm a ghost, baby, not a magician. My awareness can't be more than one place at one time. When Dr. Lilly bought it in this store, I was with you-in that bakery, in Buddy Boy's van, then out on the sidewalk with the Ticket Issuing Witch of Cornpone County.

I sighed, slumping back against our complete collection of Robert B. Parker. "We don't even know why Dr. Lilly was singled out."

But we can assume a few things… like it's a pretty good bet the killer wasn't connected to her life back in California. Punching her ticket on the West Coast would have been a heck of a lot easier than what took place last night. There's also a possibility that a certified crazy is on the loose at this film festival. Maybe all of this weekend's special guests are in danger. Maybe the entire festival crowd.

"Someone's got to help us figure this out, Jack. I'd better talk it over with the chief "

The chief? Jack snorted. That piker's not going to listen to you. I doubt he'll even rule this a homicide. And unless the medical man on his way is Dr. Watson, we're on our own proving a clean sneak bump-off.

The front door rattled. Someone had knocked instead of pressing our doorbell. Officer Franzetti peered through the window.

"He's here," Eddie announced, unlocking the door.

A fit man in his forties squeezed through the crowd of people that had gathered in front of my store. He wore rumpled khakis, a lime-green alligator shirt, collar wrinkled and unbuttoned. Over his arm, he carried a bright yellow J. Crew Windbreaker, which seemed unnecessary, considering the weather report's forecast high for today was in the seventies.

Someone tried to follow the newcomer over the threshold, but Eddie slammed the door in the customer's startled face.

Our visitor ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair. He had a squarish face with a Roman nose, prominent chin, and large brown eyes. On first impression, he seemed intelligent and attractive.

"Quite a mess out there," he said with a friendly smile. "Good you got here, doc," said Eddie. "The chief's been waiting."

"I came from Newport as soon as I got the call… it's Officer Franchese, isn't it?" "Franzetti."

"Anyway, the traffic was murder. Did you know there's some kind of film festival going on? The whole town's full of tourists…"

The man suddenly caught sight of me and his deep voice trailed off. Then he noticed Sadie behind the counter and Seymour slumped in one of our Shaker-style rockers.

"Excuse me for being rude," he said smoothly, his big, sleepy brown eyes returning to mine.

"This is Mrs. McClure," Eddie said.

"Penelope," I volunteered.

"She owns this store-"

"With my aunt Sadie," I interjected.

The man's smile seemed genuine. He was tanned and athletic-not quite as handsome as Robert Mitchum playing the leading-man doctor in Where Danger Lives, but very close.

Randall Rubino stood a few inches taller than I, but he was probably even taller. I was wearing low heels, while the doctor wore scuffed boat shoes with flat rubber soles. He was also carrying a large beige canvas backpack over his shoulder. Was his medical kit in there? I wondered.

He stepped forward, extended his tanned right hand. "My name is-"

"Dr. Rubino," Chief Ciders's voice boomed from the archway. "Your services are required back here immediately."

"Right, Chief Ciders. On my way," Rubino replied. He shook my hand and offered a wink to go along with it. I couldn't help but breathe a little easier-and I couldn't fault Dr. Rubino's bedside manner, either.

Sadie noticed the wink, too. She quickly sidled up to me. "Dr. Rubino seems quite nice, don't you think?"

What a stuffed monkey, Jack scoffed. This guy's got Ivy League written all over him, which means you won't be able to tell him a thing. He'll already know it all.

Ignoring Jack, I watched Dr. Rubino cross the sales floor on his way to the Community Events space.

"I'm sure he's married," I quietly told Sadie.

Inside of ten seconds, Sadie was beside Eddie whispering questions. Finally, she came back to me.

"Eddie says he's divorced," she confided, "and that's why he's doing this work for Ciders-and any other townships in the area that need his services. Apparently he used to have a lot of money; now he has a lot less, but who cares about that? I think he's quite a catch."

Go for it, Betty Boop. See if I care.

"Stop it! I'm not interested!"

Sadie frowned and I realized I'd said those words aloud.

"Well, you don't have to decide right now," Sadie replied with a huff. "Give the man a chance to ask you out for coffee!"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Aunt Sadie, I didn't intend to say that to you."

"It's all right, dear," she said, patting my shoulder. "We're all a little rattled by Dr. Lilly's fall."

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. Sadie rearranged books on the film noir display. I moved to the window and watched the crowd thicken outside. The store's opening hour came and went without anyone emerging from the Events room. I wondered if Buy the Book was going to open at all today-though that was probably the least of our worries at this point.

Suddenly Seymour pushed himself out of the wooden rocker. "That's it! I'm out of here," he declared, checking his Wonder Woman watch. "It's after ten, and I've waited long enough for Chief Ciders to take my statement. If Barney Fife needs to reach me, he knows where I'll be-working my route, 'cause the mail is like showbiz. It must go on!"

Officer Franzetti stepped forward. "The chief told me everyone stays here until he takes your statements."

"The chief is a local yokel, Pizza Boy," Seymour shot back. "His authority stretches about as far as Quindicott Pond. The federal government's interest in an efficient mail service supersedes his meager jurisdiction."

Eddie put his hands on his gun belt. "Cut the double talk, Seymour. You're not going anywhere, no matter what you say-"

Seymour flushed crimson. "Listen, Franzetti! Step out of the way and you won't get hurt-"

"All right, all right, what's going on here?" Chief Ciders barked. He tramped into the store with Dr. Rubino and young Bull McCoy in tow.

Yep, quipped Jack. McCoy is Chief Donut's nephew all right. Same sloped brow and slack jaw. Same funny-farm stare, too.

"Look, Chief, I've got a job to do, too," Seymour complained. "Either detain me or let me get back to it."

Ciders nodded to Eddie. "Let the man go. Tarnish has mail to mis-deliver. I'll get his statement later, for what it's worth."

"So, you're finished with your investigation?" Seymour asked as he inched toward the front door.

"The preliminary phase," Ciders replied, giving Seymour his back.

Seymour stopped. "Well?"

Ciders frowned, looked up from the clipboard in his hand. "Don't you have work to do?" Seymour nodded. "Then get the heck out of here!"

Seymour shrugged and opened the door, smacking into the crowd of film festival fans waiting for the store to open. "Clear a path, people! Official government employee coming through!"