Fear of Frying

trouble to impress us, but I don’t think anybody favors the plan. Even Bob Rycraft, who was so enthusiastic at first, seems to have changed his mind.”
    Marge stared at Shelley as if forcing her mind back to the subject at hand. “I guess so,“ she said. Silence fell.
    Marge glanced at the door as if wishing it would open and some supernatural force would suck her out. Could a woman this timid, who couldn’t even figure out how to get away from unwanted guests, be a party to murder? Jane wondered. It didn’t seem possible.
    Shelley said, “I guess you’ll be at the planning meeting next Thursday.“ When Marge looked at her blankly, Shelley went on. “The park committee. Planning the new gardens around the city hall...?“
    “Oh. Yes. I will. I wonder— Well, I think I’ll just run down to the lodge and see if Sam’s there. If you don’t mind...”
    Trying to chat with her was obviously a lost cause. Marge was putting on her coat, and Jane went to open the door. She found herself facing Sheriff Taylor, his hand raised to knock. “Is Mrs. Claypool here?“ he asked, obviously surprised to see Jane. A young, uniformed officer Jane hadn’t seen before was standing behind him.
    “Yes, she is. Go on in.“
    “I wonder if you’d mind staying,“ he said quietly. “My only female deputy is out sick.“
    “All right,“ Jane said, opening the door wider. She was bursting with questions, but this obviously wasn’t the time to ask anything.
    The sheriff stepped inside the cabin looking very grim. The young officer came in as well, closing the door and taking a notebook and pencil out of his pocket.
    “Mrs. Claypool? I’m afraid I have bad news for you,“ Sheriff Taylor said.
    Marge stood as if frozen in place.
    “We’ve just found your husband’s body.”
    “Wh—“ Marge began, then clamped her mouth shut.
    Which husband, you were going to say, Jane thought. She and Shelley exchanged a quick glance.
    “It must have been in the stream and the high water brought it down to the lake,“ the sheriff said. “You won’t have to identify it. Your brother-in-law already has.”
    Marge was still standing, statuelike, in the middle of the room. Her only movement was to twist a button on her coat. She had gone so white she looked like she might faint any second. Shelley gently took her arm, led her to a chair, and forced her to sit down.
    “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you some questions,“ the sheriff said.
    Marge kept twisting the button.
    “You see, the body was naked—”
    Marge drew in a sharp breath.
    “It had a severe wound to the head. The left temple. And... well, he’s been dead for quite some time.“ He turned to Jane. “It’s the one you ladies found. At least, the wounds match what you described.“ There was the faintest hint of apology in his voice.
    The sheriff’s assistant was still standing quite still and unobtrusive by the doorway, already taking notes.
    Marge had pulled the button on her coat loose and sat staring at it in her hand as if it were important.
    The sheriff pulled another chair over and sat down in front of her. “I’m afraid there are a great many questions I’m going to have to ask you.”

Eighteen

    Marge’s story came out in fits and starts, out of order and with long intervals of sobbing. A few minutes into it, John and Eileen Claypool arrived, distraught. John said, “Marge, you don’t have to talk to these people. I forbid you to. You need a lawyer. Don’t say a word.”
    Marge, her temper flaring for once, said, “I don’t need a lawyer, John. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sick of Claypool men telling me what I can and can’t do. Oh, please, please go away!”
    John practically had to be thrown out of the cabin. Eileen left in tears.
    Sam Claypool knew he had a twin brother, Marge said, between sobs. The boys had been in foster homes together until they were adopted by different families at the age of four. Sam didn’t know where his brother was and didn’t care. His early childhood had been so nightmarish that he wanted no reminder of it... ever. He’d never even confided in John about having a twin and had only mentioned it to her once, on their honeymoon.
    She had tried once or twice to get him to talk about it, perhaps even try to find his twin, but Sam was adamantly, almost violently, opposed to discussing it and accused her of betraying his confidence by even bringing up the subject. He obviously regretted having shared