Carolyn,
This is story is just plain cool—the characters are cool (Jack’s way of
helping Fiona wash her hair isn’t just a sort of aid to her soul, it’s also
just a cool and attentive action to take to help someone out), the concept is
cool (a sort of murder mystery that involves ghosts), and the language (both
description and dialogue) are cool.
I enjoy how Jack and Fiona banter—they know each other well,
they’re intelligent, the accident/murder/ghosts give them a unique point of
contact. I like that Fiona reveals that her family is “big on oaths” and that
she and her brothers made a blood oath that whoever died first had to come back
and haunt the others—and more than that, she’s waiting for them to come and they
haven’t yet, and this is shattering for her. Awesome storytelling. There is so
much power in this scene—especially in this beat on page 30—that I feel you
might be able to make even more of it. After Fiona reveals this info about her
frustration that her brothers haven’t returned to her as ghosts, she sobs with
her head buried in Jack’s neck. This physical contact seems a little sudden—I almost
want to have a greater sense of these two people coming closer, closer, closer
together as Fiona builds up to the reveal—to see them coming together with some
small actions (Fiona placing a hand on Jack’s or even holding his, or
something). And maybe Jack even asks questions that a) show his curiosity and
emotional involvement; b) function as the force pushing Fiona to reveal; c)
make Fiona a little resistant or hesitant or trepidatious to reveal this family
info about being big on ghosts and the info about the blood oath with her
brothers. When she mentions the blood oath, I can imagine hearing Jack ask, “Blood
oath?” Breaking up that block of dialogue with Jack asking questions and
perhaps prodding a little might increase the tension and dramatic power by
making the intimacy achieved by Fiona’s reveal even deeper. Does this make
sense?
This may relate to your question about the emotional tone of
the chapter feeling appropriate. I think the appropriate emotions are present,
and now you can modulate them—turn them up or down depending on what benefits
the story. Another bit of emotion I picked up on that I really like is Jack’s
frustration that he can’t lift as much weight as he used to. The summer after
my sophomore year, I trained a lot for basketball—I was playing great, jumping
high, running fast. And then I broke my ankle and was in a cast a few weeks (3
or 6? Can’t remember.) When the cast came off, my calf muscles had atrophied,
and I was crushed about how the injury had taken away so much of what I’d
worked for. Jack’s an athlete, so maybe this frustration with his body could be
made more of? Also, it’s compelling that his body’s physical strength has been
reduced, resulting perhaps in added challenge to his character.
I haven’t seen Out of
Africa (gasp if my ignorance deserves a gasp!) but the reference works for
me. Jack says he’s getting the idea for what he’s doing at that moment from the
movie Out of Africa, and Fiona says, “Seriously?
You’re going to wash my hair?”
I like the idea of Jack querying Fiona about her comment
about her family being all about ghosts. He might not reveal to her what he’s
experiencing—at least not yet—but he may be seeking some kind of knowledge,
some kind of verification that the ghosts he’s experiencing aren’t figments of
his guilt or concussion.
I kind of like the Shakespearean stuff. I don’t think it’s
too brainiac, and Jack writing a thesis on the ghosts in Hamlet and Macbeth may
give him a chance to deal with the reality of ghosts with his intellect. Maybe
he discovers that something Shakespeare did with ghosts is eerily close to what
Jack himself is experiencing. Or maybe Shakespeare’s ghosts aren’t like what
Jack’s experiencing and Jack feels a compulsion in his thesis to take a “that’s
not how it is” stance that his teacher might find odd. Or maybe Jack even
obsesses over this thesis. There are some fun possibilities to play with here.
Oh, and as far as pathologists—Andrea, Riley’s wife, might
be a pathologist, actually. Riley, is Andrea a pathologist?
As I said above, you’re working with cool stuff here,
Carolyn—go, go, go!
Have you read Stephen King’s ON WRITING? I was reading through
it recently, and King said something wonderful about writing a story being like
excavating a fossil—both are processes of discovery. I share that in case it’s
enriching or helpful. Somehow I really liked it.
So, excavate, excavate, excavate!
a short story that started as a fun flash-fiction exercise*. The narrator is female--something I haven't done much. 
