The Ghost and the Femme Fatale by Alice Kimberly Page A

now.”
    I looked down at the pavement around my feet. Okay, there were a few gum wrappers, paper cups, and napkins blowing around, but there was still more than an hour before we opened our doors—plenty of time for me to sweep the sidewalk.
    “Excuse me!” I interrupted. “We have an entire hour to deal with this little bit of rubbish, and we will.”
    I was proud of taking a stand, but Marjorie Binder-Smith didn’t appear impressed with my little protest. In fact, she was wearing the same smirk she’d worn the day she’d temporarily halted the restoration of the Movie Town Theater over some minor ordinance violation. It had taken an entire month for Brainert to straighten out the red tape—and it had cost him and his investors quite a bit of cash, too.
    “The ticket stands,” the councilwoman declared with a note of finality. But her eyes were still boring into mine, as if waiting for me to challenge her. I was about to open my mouth when Bud Napp stepped between us.
    “Now wait just a doggone minute, Councilwoman,” Bud said. “Everyone knows that storefront businesses have until opening hours to clean their sidewalks. It’s standard practice around here.”
    “What you people collectively do for your own convenience has nothing to do with the official rules on the town’s books, Mr. Napp,” the woman shot back. “And if it’s not on the books, it doesn’t exist. Not where I come from.”
    Where’s that? Down in the bunker with Eva and Adolph?
    “Shut it!” I told Jack.
    The councilwoman wheeled. “What did you say to me, Mrs. McClure?”
    Uh- oh. “Did I say that out loud?”
    Don’t fold now, baby. Show some backbone!
    I knew Jack meant well, but I suspected arguing would only make things worse.
    “Write that ticket, Officer Franzetti,” Marjorie commanded.
    Eddie frowned as he opened his ticket book. He began to scribble, his eyes avoiding mine.
    “Come on, Marjorie,” Bud said, stepping up to the woman. “Cut Pen a break. A warning is all she should get. She doesn’t know about the town’s ordinance.”
    “Ignorance of the law is no excuse!” Marjorie asserted.
    Bud turned crimson. “Having an ignoramus like you write our laws is no excuse, either!”
    Now we’re getting somewhere! Jack boomed in my head.
    I ignored Jack and jumped between the two. “Look, it’s no big deal. Take it easy.”
    An elbow dug into my ribs and I was thrust aside. “What did you call me?” the councilwoman cried.
    “I called you an ignoramus ,” Bud said. “I’d also like to add that you are a petty bureaucrat on some kind of twisted power trip!”
    I tried to step between them again, but Seymour pulled me back. “Let Bud go, Pen. Someone should have put a stake in that woman’s heart and filled her mouth with garlic a long time ago.”
    “I heard that!” Marjorie cried, wheeling on Seymour. “You’ll be very sorry you said that, Mailman. And that goes double for you, Mr. Napp.”
    I heard paper tear. Eddie Franzetti slipped the ticket into my hand.
    “What’s going on here?” Aunt Sadie finally made an appearance, but not from inside the store. She was hurrying up to our group from down the street, carrying a Bogg’s Office Supply and Stationery bag. “What’s this?” she asked, snatching the ticket from my fingers.
    “It’s a littering citation,” Officer Franzetti informed her.
    “A two- hundred- dollar fine!” Sadie cried.
    Eddie shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
    Marjorie Binder-Smith was still sputtering. Finally she managed a coherent sentence. “I am going to sue you for slander, Bud Napp. You wait and see!” Then she faced Seymour. “And let’s just see where you can park that ice cream truck of yours after the next town council meeting!”
    “You leave my ice cream truck out of this!” Seymour shot back.
    Bud stepped up to the councilwoman again. “You have more to worry about that an ice cream truck, Marjorie. I’ve decided. Right here and