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ghost could even do such a thing. “Well, George did fancy me and I guess I took advantage of that.” Her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she turned wide eyes on me. “Do you think George killed me?”  
    “You were arguing with him last night in your shop.” I nodded toward the picture window which provided a view into the photography store. Paisley walked slowly down the aisle, quietly staring out the window into her former shop. The police were still in there and I could see Gus and Jimmy with their heads bent together, apparently looking at some piece of evidence.
    She turned around, confusion on her face. “It looks like there was a fire in there.”
    “Yes, there was. You didn’t know that?”
    Her hands flew up to her face. “No. My beautiful photos. Were they ruined?”
    “I’m not sure. It looks like the fire didn’t damage too much.” I would have never guessed it, but by the look on Paisley’s face she was genuinely distraught. Apparently, she really was serious about her photography work. Judging by the quality of her work, I’d always thought she’d just opened the shop on a whim. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, though. “You mean you really didn’t know you died in a fire?”
    She shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t remember how I died. I didn’t know anything about a fire.”
    “What did you and George argue about?”
    “He thought I had pictures of us … you know…”
    “And did you?”
    “Yeah.” She giggled. “Who would want to see those?”
    “He probably thought you were going to use them to blackmail him. Did you mention something about using those pictures to ensure you got a spot in the art show”?
    “I might have,” she said innocently. “But I did get that spot in the show, so why would he be afraid that I would use the pictures? I do have some ethics, you know. He did seem worried about them, but I promised that I would give them to him, and I eventually calmed him down and he went on his way.”
    “So, he didn’t kill you?”
    “Well…” She looked uncertainly back at the shop. “I don’t think so. I distinctly remember him leaving and I was alive then.”
    “But you stayed in the shop?”
    “I guess so. It all gets kind of fuzzy after that.”
    “This would be a lot easier if your memory was better. Try to think.”
    “Oh, I’m not worried. I’m sure that you’ll be able to find the killer even without my memory. I heard you were the best.”
    Maybe she wasn’t worried, but I was. Especially about that last comment. “You did? Where did you hear that?”  
    Was there some kind of person in the afterlife that gave out this information to the newly deceased? Like a Walmart greeter who directed murder victims to my shop? Need to find a killer? That’s in aisle seven at Last Chance Books .
    “Oh, now, you don’t need to know that.” She eyed me critically. “What you do need is a fashion makeover.”
    “What?”
    She gestured at my body and I glanced down to see what was causing the sour look on her face. I had on my usual, loose t-shirt and jeans. What was wrong with that?
    “If you dressed a little sexier, you might be able to get more information from people. That could help you with the investigation. It’s always worked for me.” She ran her hands up and down her body to accentuate the form-fitting tank top and skirt she wore. Even the tendrils of ghostly swirling mist that surrounded her clung to her like a glove.
    “You know, your sister could use a makeover, too. She’s always dressed in that unflattering uniform.” Paisley looked back out the window. I followed her gaze. It was true. I hardly ever saw Gus out of uniform.  
    I remembered the last time I’d had to find a ghost’s killer and the resulting celebration in the Van Dorn mansion which had been turned into a museum to honor its former owner, psychic and magician Charles Van Dorn. Gus had surprised everyone by showing up in a slinky black dress which she wore