I stepped closer to the front window, overheard some snippets of conversation. "I can't believe it, but I think these people believe we just staged a publicity stunt."

"That's awful!" said Aunt Sadie. "Who would think we'd do such a thing?!"

"It's Film Noir week. Dark and cynical are the words of the day."

"Then I guess we'd better open soon," said Sadie, shaking her head, "or we're liable to get another ticket from the councilwoman for unlawful assembly."

"What do we'd do about the twelve o'clock signing?" I studied the crowd, hoping to spot Brainert. "Should we just send the people away? I don't relish announcing our store's noontime speaker is now a corpse on its way to an autopsy."

"There are a lot of authors scheduled for signings this weekend," said my aunt. "Perhaps we can call someone, ask him or her to step in."

"Isn't that Maggie Kline out there, speaking to a group of college kids?" I pointed to the sixty-something woman with the red glasses and bouncy, scarlet-streaked, cocoa-colored curls.

"The screen and television writer?" Sadie peered through the plate glass, into the crowd. "Oh, yes, that's her. I spoke to her briefly at the party last evening. She's quite smart and articulate. And we have at least three of her suspense novels in stock. She penned them years ago, but their backlist sales have held up well. Do you think, since she's here now, she might step

in for Dr. Lilly?"

I checked my watch. "Ms. Kline's already scheduled for a Saturday signing, but there's such a huge crowd here now, I bet she wouldn't mind doing a little Q and A for us. How do you feel about introducing her?"

"I'd love to!" said Sadie. "I've read her books, of course, and seen most of those television shows she used to write for… Let me see now… there was The Brutal Streets, Manhunt, Shield of Justice. I can certainly think of a few good questions for her if the audience can't."

In the next few minutes, our spirits brighter, Sadie and I helped Officer Eddie finish cleaning the Community Events room, and our young part-time clerk, Mina Griffith, arrived to start her shift.

"I think we should call Seymour, too," I told Sadie. "We'll really need him for crowd control."

She nodded, dialed his cell, and got right through. "He'll be here in ten minutes," she said.

Finally, Mina braced herself behind the counter; Aunt Sadie positioned herself inside the Events room; and I opened the front door. The murmuring, laughing people flowed in like a river released from a dam, many of them heading right into the adjoining space to grab seats for our noontime event.

I stood near the front of the store, watching for Maggie Kline-until a large man in a Hawaiian shirt of neon pink and lime green blotted out my view of practically everything else.

"Good morning… you're Pen McClure right?" asked the man. "You run this store?"

"Yes, with my aunt," I said, weaving and bobbing to see around the man's bulky form.

"I'm here for the film festival, and I was just wondering what the deal was? With the ambulance and police, I mean. Somebody have a stroke or heart attack in here or something?" He lowered his voice. "It wasn't Hedda Geist, was it? The corpse they wheeled out looked pretty small, like a woman."

I moved my gaze north of the large, Hawaiian-shirted obstruction and immediately recognized the round baby face and blond ponytail of the famous Webmaster Barry Yello-the young guy who'd introduced Dr. Lilly the night before.

"Oh, my goodness," I murmured. "You're Barry Yello, aren't you?"

"Rumor has it."

I quickly pulled him aside. In hushed tones, I told Barry that his colleague Dr. Lilly was the one who'd died in our store. "She fell from a ladder."

"God, that's awful." Barry shook his head. "I better get the news out on my Web site."

"Oh, no! Don't do that! Not until we're sure her family's been notified."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Barry frowned. "Sorry, but I didn't know her that well. I mean, I learned a lot from her books. And she seemed like a nice lady, but as far as her personal life?" He shrugged. "I think she's married, but I don't have any contact info or anything. Wish I could be more helpful. You're better off tracking down Dean Pepper for that… or Professor Brainert Parker."

"I will."

"Like I said, I'm sorry about what happened; but I'm glad it wasn't Hedda Geist." He glanced around the store. "You haven't seen her around this morning, have you?"

"Hedda? No. She's not expected here for her signing until five."

"Her signing?" Barry squinted. "What's she going to sign, publicity stills?"

We were standing near the Film Noir Festival display, so I just pointed to Hedda's oversized photo book.

"Oh, yeah. Portraits in Shadow" He grabbed a copy off the stack. "I forgot about this thing. But then it was pretty forgettable. The text is disappointingly minimal… more like extended captions. She should have hired someone like me to write a real book for her. It's no wonder it didn't make any waves. I mean, she didn't do much to promote it, either."

"Well, she's promoting it now," I pointed out.

"True." Barry nodded. "This weekend's pretty much Hedda's first public appearance since her film career ended back in the day. That's why I'm looking forward to interviewing her on stage this afternoon. I'm streaming the whole thing on my Web site and uploading a choice segment onto YouTube…"

Oh, yeah? Jack said in my head. Then why don't you ask her the sixty-four-million-dollar question: whether she knifed Irving Vreen by accident or let him have it in cold blood.

"Jack, be quiet," I shot back. "I'm in a jam here!"

"…anyway, Mrs.McClure, you can see why I was stressed about the corpse and wanted to make sure that it wasn't Hedda…" As Barry continued to yammer on, I realized that he had a book to hawk this weekend, too.

"Listen, Barry," I interrupted, "I have a thought. Since you're here now, would you mind taking the book-signing spot left by the late Dr. Lilly? You could even say a few words about her since you enjoyed her books on film history-"

"Oh, no," Barry said quickly. "I'm sorry, Mrs. McClure, but I wouldn't know what to say. I mean, I'm great at writing on the 'Net, but speaking at length right off the top of my head with nothing written down first?" He shrugged. "Not good. I'll just stick my foot in it. And my signing's already set for Sunday. Let's keep it that way, okay? I've already announced it on my site and… "

As Barry kept talking, I went back to frantically searching the crowd for Maggie Kline. It wasn't that we couldn't just cancel the noon event. Sending the crowd away would be easy to do. But it would be a shame, considering this was the first festival event our store was hosting. We might not ever get the people to come back to our store again. And we had too many books in stock to let potential book buyers slip away. I was sad about Dr. Lilly, but I still had a boy to feed and clothe and put through college.

"Ms. Kline!" I called out, interrupting the beefy Webmaster. "Excuse me, Barry. I'm not usually this rude, but I'm a little desperate right now. Ms. Kline, over here!"

As I waved the woman over, Barry's expression soured. "Why are you calling her over here?"

"What's the matter?" I whispered. "Are you two having some sort of feud?"

"No," he said shortly. "I've never even met the woman."

Maggie Kline strode over to us, an expression of curiosity on her broad face. Her features weren't delicate or conventionally pretty, yet she had a very attractive air about her, a glowing confidence. She had a fit figure, too. She was tall and slender, and despite being in her sixties, looked great in her youthful clothes.

Over the years, I'd seen older women try to dress younger and fail miserably at it-usually because their skirts were too high, their dresses too tight or too revealing of flesh that just wasn't as elastic, smooth, and blemish-free as it once was. But Maggie's red-framed glasses, snug red T-shirt, and low-waisted khaki pants made her look carefree and approachable. Even her shoes were whimsical-instead of heels or boots, she wore black Keds.