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‘She’s fine.’  ‘She’s in shock.’ The blonde’s blue eyes flashed warning signals. ‘She’s a witness to a murder. Heck, she might be a murderer,’ he said, lowering his face to mine and searching my eyes as if a written confession might be rolled up in my cornea somewhere.  ‘I didn’t kill anybody. I found him like that. Then I called Information.’  ‘You called Information?’ The medic looked confused. I guess it was because she was a blonde.  ‘Not on purpose. I got confused. Then I called you guys.’ I waved at Highsmith and the million-odd other men and women sucking all the air out of my storeroom. ‘The cops.’  ‘Do you want to explain about this Clive person I found on the ground when I got here? What’s Clive’s relationship to you? How did he get hurt? Was there a struggle?’  I swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of air. I figured I’d better get a couple in before all these people used it all up. ‘In the first place, Clive was not on the ground. He was leaning carefully, neatly, against the counter.’ I was getting a bit hot under the collar from all this negativity. The infrared light that was supposed to be used to keep beignets warm but I was using for a work light at the back counter could also have been part of the problem. I was mad, though. And tired. And just a wee bit queasy.   Dead guy, remember?  ‘In the second place, there was no struggle. Unless you want to count the struggle I had lugging Clive’s unconscious butt out of the storeroom.’ I glared at Highsmith. ‘After he fainted.’  The medic unwound the blood pressure cuff. ‘A little high,’ she said brightly. ‘But considering the circumstances,’ she glanced at the crime scene behind us, ‘not unexpected.’  I nodded.  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.  ‘Maggie,’ I replied. ‘Maggie Miller.’  The medic turned to Detective Highsmith. ‘Miss Miller here has had quite a shock. She needs to be evaluated more fully. Shock can be dangerous if not treated.’  ‘Dangerous?’ I squeaked. What was the worst that could happen?  She nodded sagely. ‘Hypoxemia, cardiac arrest, diaphoresis, poor end-organ perfusion.’ She paused, then added, ‘Confusion.’  Confusion was right. I didn’t know what most of that gibberish was she’d just spouted but fear of them was only serving to make my shock, well, more shocking.