Free Reel Murder by Mary Kennedy Page A

bird, Themopolous, is fond of Emily Dickinson. Something about the iambic pentameter really appeals to him. He bobs his head and weaves when I start reading poetry to him.”
    “Are you for real?” Doris shrieked.
    “I’m afraid we have to go to a commercial—” I began, but my guest cut me off.
    “And one more thing. CNN.”
    “What? CNN?”
    “Yes, CNN. Leave the television tuned to CNN. Hercules will appreciate some adult conversation and won’t have to resort to small town gossip if he’s exposed to world events and politics.”
    “Small town gossip?” Doris was practically squawking in indignation. “Listen, you crazy b—”
    This time Vera Mae slammed the MUTE button and I broke in, “We’ll be right back after this message from Wanda’s House of Beauty.” Vera Mae shoved a cassette into the machine and motioned for me to read a promo sitting at the console. “Remember, ladies,” I began, “beauty is only skin deep but men have little tiny pea brains and that’s what they go for. Beauty and big boobies—”
    Ohmigod! I sat still, my own brain scrambling in a million directions. Had I really said that? Vera Mae immediately switched to another commercial and the rockabilly theme of Lemuel’s Body Shop filled the studio.
    Vera Mae came tearing in from the control room and grabbed the ad copy. “Cheese n’crackers! That Irina, she’s done it again.” Vera Mae glanced at the ad copy, crunched it into a ball, and tossed it into the wastebasket.
    “What just happened?” Dr. Knudsen looked appalled. “Was that supposed to be a joke? About men and their little pea brains? And you actually said ‘boobies’ on the air. Are you allowed to do that?” She sniffed disapprovingly.
    “It’s not a joke,” I said, licking my lips nervously. Damn . Note to self: always read the promos before doing them live on the air. “Irina writes our ad copy for us. She’s director of promotions.”
    “Irina? You mean that ditzy blonde at the front desk? She can barely speak English. I thought she was the receptionist.”
    “She’s a multitasker,” Vera Mae told her. “She manages the front desk, writes the ad copy, and keeps the traffic logs. It’s Cyrus’s way of saving money. I’ll have a chat with him, Maggie. He’s just gonna have to bite the bullet and hire a copywriter, and that’s all there is to it. We can’t have you saying stuff like this on the air. It’s not professional.”
    “I’ll say,” Dr. Knudsen tsk-ed. “You’ll probably be getting calls from the Men’s Anti-Defamation League. They might even try to take you off the air.”
    Her lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk. The Bird Woman of Alcatraz wasn’t a very nice person, after all. As Vera Mae says, “Always go with your first impressions. It saves a lot of time.”
    “Ohmigod I hadn’t thought of that. Vera Mae, do you think we could be fined by the FCC?” I wondered if I should retract my boobie comment or come up with some sort of apology. Or would that just draw attention to it and make things worse? I could feel my jaw clenching in frustration, just thinking about it.
    “After all the stuff Howard Stern got away with on the air? I doubt it.” Vera Mae patted me on the shoulder, with one eye on the clock. In another ten seconds, we’d be live again. “Don’t worry about it, sugar,” she said, her voice soft as silk. She shot a dark look at Dr. Knudsen. “Probably no one was tuning in today anyway.”
    Big Jim Wilcox was waiting for me outside the studio and stepped in front of me as I ducked my head and barreled down the hall to my office.
    “Heard about the murder at Branscom Pond today, Maggie.” His squinty eyes were glittering with excitement and he was breathing hard, the way he does when he’s announcing a Hail Mary pass for the Cypress Grove Spoilers.
    “Yes, it was quite a shock. My mother knew Adriana from years ago.” I tried to move past him down the narrow corridor but it was impossible. His