Fear of Frying

half the county to come to these classes and demonstrations. Looks like it could be a very successful bid for the school to send their kids here and profit him considerably. That would wreck their plans, wouldn’t it?“
    “Okay...“
    “So what could be more discouraging to potential `investors,’ which we are in a way, than to have one of us killed off?“
    “So the victim was to be whoever was the last to leave, not Sam Claypool specifically?“
    “Could be,“ Shelley muttered. “But—”
    Jane ran her hands through her hair in a despairing gesture. “I know! I know! It still doesn’t explain how he came back to life!”
    When Jane and Shelley walked back to the lodge, the environmentalists were out in force. They were dressed in costumes. Animal heads that covered their heads, and black cloaks—for mourning, Jane assumed. They carried signs that said things like THE WILDLIFE WAS HERE FIRST! and ONLY FISH BELONG IN WATER.
    “Do you think we could mention frogs also living in water?“ Jane said under her breath. “Not to ignore newts and insects and all kinds of slimy things.“
    “I wouldn’t mention anything to them,“ Shelley said. “I imagine every one of them can do a solid hour’s worth of harangue.”
    One demonstrator had a large poster with a disgustingly vivid picture of a road-killed possum and the message SHAME! Jane turned away, revolted, and stuck close to Shelley, who was dodging through the line of protestors. In the distance they could hear a siren.
    “Poor Benson,“ Jane said, entering the lodge. “They’re trying to wreck this school project for him.“
    “But we’re all smart enough to figure that out,“ Shelley said. “Still, posters like that picture could be really upsetting to impressionable kids. I hate myself for it, but I’m starting to have real doubts about the wisdom of sending them here.”
    Liz was standing by a front window of the lodge, watching the crowd outside. “Not good,“ she said when Jane met her gaze. “I don’t like this kind of terrorism. Have you two had lunch?“
    “Not yet,“ Jane said.
    “Then come and sit with me, would you? I’ve been waiting for Al, but he’s probably lost,“ Liz said. “The man has no sense of direction.”
    They got their plates and found an empty table in the far back corner of the dining room. “So how many of the morning-session classes did you get to?“ Liz asked.
    “Just one,“ Shelley said. “Leatherwork.”
    Liz cocked an eyebrow in disapproval. “Not exactly a ‘preparation for life’ class,“ she said.
    “But I’m already prepared and have lived half of my life,“ Shelley said firmly. “And I wanted to know about leatherwork.”
    Liz knew another strong-minded, outspoken woman when she met up with one. She turned questioningly to Jane.
    “Computers,“ Jane said promptly, glad she’d put away her game disks before running into Liz.
    “That’s odd. I dropped in on the computer class and didn’t see you there,“ Liz said.
    “Must have been while I’d stepped out to the bathroom,“ Jane said, smiling innocently.
    Liz apparently accepted this and went on to enumerate the classes she’d dropped in on. She’d hit all the “worthwhile“ ones. History, nature, wildlife of the area. But she’d also taken a glance at the outdoor, physical-exercise offerings—boating, swimming, gymnastics. Anything that had a hint of arts or crafts, she’d ignored.
    Jane couldn’t help but point that out. “Don’t you like singing or dancing or making things?“
    “I love them. Al and I and our kids all sing in the church choir, and he and I used to compete in ballroom dancing contests—until we started stiffening up,“ she added with a rare smile. She was stunning when she smiled. “I make a good many of my own clothes, and so does my daughter. But these are my pleasurable, leisure-time activities. I don’t think they need to be taught in school. But I do try to keep in mind that this is only my opinion.”
    Jane smiled. Not very successfully, she thought.
    “But this isn’t really what I wanted to talk to you two about,“ Liz said. “I want to know about this body you found last night.“
    “We were mistaken,“ Shelley said. “Trick of the light, no doubt.“
    “That’s right,“ Jane said.
    Liz looked at them for a long moment. “Forgive me, ladies, but I don’t believe that. What’s the real story?”

Fourteen

    “Okay,“ Shelley said. “we did find a dead body. But