Corpse Pose

“But what would your motive be?”
“Oh, motive!” Elysia sketched another graceful, taloned gesture.
“There has to be a motive. You’re already rich.”
Elysia cooed, “As the Bard says, ‘You can never be too rich or too thin.’ ”
“The Bard didn’t say that.”
“I’m sure he did, pumpkin, though possibly not in so many words.”

For a shocked moment A.J. lay on the sidewalk wondering if she’d finally had it. After the initial disastrous contact of soft body on sidewalk, she wasn’t feeling much of anything-that might be good, though. Above her the streets lamps were doing an unpleasant whirly thing.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” Elysia was saying, clopping back across the street.
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Detective Oberlin.
It was like a religious revival, A.J. thought. She blinked up, trying to focus, and Detective Oberlin’s face swam into her line of vision. He was joined by Elysia, and then the alarmed face of his dinner companion.
“Wow,” said Oberlin’s friend-apparently an atheist.

“It was yellow. I’d stake my reputation on it.”
Her reputation as what? A.J. wondered. TV sleuth or innocent bystander?

"Look, sweetheart, I know you're feeling a little... lost, but you need to come back to town and have your nervous breakdown in a civilized place."