Fear of Frying

Shelley said.
    “She could be telling the absolute truth—as she knows it, or believes it,“ Jane said. “Because of her attraction to Sam Tw— I mean Henry. And maybe inventing bits to make him more sympathetic in her own mind. He’s been observing both of them, not just his brother, it seems. Maybe he was really watching her? Trying to figure out whether he had a chance of sweeping her off her feet if Sam were dead.“
    “She did say she saw him at the grocery store. He must have known Sam wasn’t with her then,“ Shelley said, nodding. “You could be right, that knowing all about her was every bit as important as knowing about Sam.”
    The young man who’d set the table by the fire came back with a coffee urn.
    “Yes,“ Jane said, “he only had to know enough about Sam to figure out how to kill him and take over his business. But he had to make Marge fall in love with him at lightning speed. And he succeeded wonderfully. I’ll get us some coffee.”
    When she got back to the table in the corner, Shelley was half-turned, staring out the window. It was almost entirely dark now and they could see the occasional darting beam of a flashlight in the woods between the lodge and the lake.
    “We’re assuming that Marge has been fooled and this Henry person killed Sam,“ Shelley said. “I’m not sure we should assume that yet. Suppose what she said was the truth? Who else might have killed Sam?“
    “It’s most often family members,“ Jane said. “That means John or Eileen... or both of them.“
    “Why?“
    “Because they’re family.“
    “No, Jane, I mean what could their motives be? Money?“
    “Would they profit from his death?“ Jane wondered. “Surely Marge inherited Sam’s portion of the car dealership. John might be able to juggle the figures and cheat her a bit, but she probably had a pretty good idea of what their income was before and would sense if she were being cheated.“ Jane thought for a moment, sipping at her coffee. “No, I’m not sure that’s right. Sam was a control freak to some degree. She probably had no idea in the world how much money they had. He struck me as one of those men who balance their wives’ checkbooks and make them account for every penny, without any accounting in return.”
    Shelley nodded. “That would be my guess, too.“
    “But in that case, he probably had a will that specified some trusted accountant or banker to watch out for her interests. He’s much more likely to have gone the paternalistic route.“
    “I’m losing the thread again,“ Shelley said.
    “We’re trying to figure out if John Claypool stood to gain from Sam’s death. And I don’t see how he could. Not enough to be worth killing for. And while they didn’t seem exactly chummy, I certainly didn’t get a hint of antagonism between them, did you?“
    “No. I wouldn’t call them close, but they worked together every day and have for years, so I assume they managed to get along.“
    “Simmering resentment?“ Jane suggested. Shelley shook her head. “John Claypool doesn’t strike me as a man who could simmer for long without boiling over. He’s too brash. Too ‘surface.’ “
    “I can’t think of any other motive he’d have, then. Nor can I think of a single one for Eileen. If anything, this is to their disadvantage.“
    “How do you figure that?“ Shelley asked.
    “The car dealership apparently took two men full-time to operate. Now John’s going to have to work harder than ever to keep it going.“
    “Mmm,“ Shelley said. “That’s a point. Okay, if we’re assuming that Marge’s version of Henry is accurate, and John and Eileen are out of the suspect picture, who does that leave us? The rest of the committee.“
    “And the Tituses,“ Jane added.
    “Let’s leave them for a minute and consider the rest of the committee. What could Liz have against Sam?“
    “I have no idea. Their lives don’t seem to be likely to intersect at any point—unless she bought a car from him. Maybe a real lemon.“
    “Jane, if normal people killed salesmen who sold them duds, there wouldn’t be any salespeople left.“
    “It was just an idea—I didn’t claim it was a good idea,“ Jane said with a smile. “Couldn’t be a flap relating to Liz’s job. Sam and Marge didn’t have kids.“
    “Al Flowers then?“
    “I don’t think Al Flowers could swat a fly, much less smack a person dead with a frying pan,“ Jane said. “And if Al were the type to take