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round, blue eyes grew even rounder with anticipation.
    “She said ‘that’s talk’ or ‘hats walk.’ Or something like that. Restricted blood flow to the brain. She knew she was dying and dying people sometimes say things that may be important to them, but mean nothing to others.” He ran his hand over his face. “I must go now.” He abruptly turned around, pulled open the door, and proceeded out. For a moment, the wind caught his suit jacket, causing it to billow about him like a black cape.
    “He’s all broken up about her death. I think they were more than dating. I think they were sweethearts. She’ll sure be missed at ARC, you know,” said Brittany.
    “No, I don’t. Why?”
    “Oh, she worked as a long-term care ombudsman there. You know, a volunteer who goes in to advocate for the residents. Say, you could take that on in addition to the column.”
    “No, I couldn’t. Not unless I want to become an early resident of the place. Look, here’s the thing…” The phone rang before Kaitlin could finish her farewell speech. Brittany held up her finger and answered it.
    While she was busy, Kaitlin took out her cell and decided to call Lucille, her agent. Brittany motioned her to an open door and nodded toward the office within. “It was Leda’s,” she said. She held her hand over the receiver. “Go ahead and use it for your call.”
    Kaitlin slid into the chair behind the desk and turned her back on the doorway. No putting off Lucille any longer. She knew she would dread this conversation, but she owed Lucille some explanation. Maybe she wouldn’t be in her office and Kaitlin could offer up her puny excuses to the answering machine gods. The call connected, and Lucille picked up on the first ring. Lucille was not happy with her. As they began their conversation, an angry voice coming from outside the door caught Kaitlin’s attention. Maybe Brittany needed help. Much as she hated to interrupt the roll of great excuses she was on, she told Lucille she would call her back. Kaitlin could hear her sputtering on the line as she disconnected.
    “I demand to see the editor and right now!” Kaitlin didn’t recognize the voice. She stuck her head out the office door.
    “He’s not in right now, but I’ll be happy to…” Before Brittany could complete her sentence, a tall man dressed in a grey suit spun on his heels and slammed out of the office.
    “You okay?” asked Kaitlin.
    “Fine. What a temper. That was Will Jameson, Leda’s nephew. You heard?”
    “Not all of it.”
    “He insisted on seeing Delbert,” Brittany said. “He just read the story on Leda’s death and wanted to know what the paper was implying about the circumstances surrounding it. He’s on his way now to talk with Dr. Baldo. He claims there was absolutely nothing wrong with his aunt’s heart. He doesn’t yet know about the autopsy results.”
    “Well, Baldo will set him straight.”
    “It’s kind of funny, though.” Brittany screwed her face up as if contemplating an unusual color of lipstick.
    “Funny?”
    “Will Jameson is Dr. William Jameson. He’s a medical doctor. Don’t you think he would have known if his aunt’s heart was bad?”
    Now, wasn’t that ironic? Delbert’s attempt to make the paper more readable by characterizing Leda’s death as suspicious may have been right on the mark. And that wasn’t all that was suspicious. Kaitlin recalled the look of fear that crossed Dr. Baldo’s face when she and Brittany questioned him about Leda’s death. And what about the other person in Leda’s house the night she died?
    Dr. Baldo, the suitor, or Dr. Jameson, the nephew—who would know more about Leda Pippel’s heart?
    * * *
    Not only did the conversation with Dr. Baldo put the thought of resigning her new position out of her mind, but she allowed Brittany to convince her to use Leda’s old office as her own. No backbone, just none at all. Another characteristic she hated about herself. Then, when she