Fear of Frying

believe Henry’s story via Marge, the murderer might not have known he succeeded in _killing Sam,“ Shelley said. “He—let’s say Lucky Smith—might have had only a dim memory of smacking somebody with something. I don’t say Lucky couldn’t have done exactly that, but I’m more inclined to think it was somebody blaming him for the silly stunts. The missing keys and such. For which he probably was responsible.“
    “It does seem his speed,“ Jane admitted. “We’re not getting anywhere. Somebody killed Sam Claypool, and we’re no closer to figuring out who he was.“
    “He or she,“ Shelley corrected.
    “What ‘she’? Who did we leave out?”
    Shelley nodded toward the doorway to the lobby. Edna Titus was standing there, hands on hips, looking around the room.
    “You two haven’t seen Sheriff Taylor, have you? I need to find him.“
    “Why?“ Jane asked bluntly.
    “To confess,“ Edna replied with equal candor.

Twenty

    “Confess!“ Jane exclaimed.
    “You killed Sam Claypool?“ Shelley asked.
    Edna looked at them as if they’d lost their minds. “Kill Sam Claypool? Me? Of course not. Why would I do that? I didn’t even know the man, and I’m not a killer.“
    “But what are you confessing to, then?“ Jane asked.
    “A number of very silly, embarrassing things,“ Edna said, sitting down at the table with them. “I’ve made a fool of myself.“
    “How is that?“ Shelley asked.
    “My daughter-in-law is much sicker than she’d have anyone know. I do, by the way, trust that you’ll keep that to yourselves. She has a serious heart condition, and I’m determined to keep her alive as long as I can. She must live near a good medical facility.“
    “Isn’t that really up to her and her husband?“ Shelley said.
    “Yes, it should be. But they’re so—so good, so naive. So blind to the hard facts.“
    “They’re also very happy here,“ Jane pointed out.
    “Allison isn’t going to be happy when she’s dead, and neither is Benson,“ Edna said harshly. “And she will be dead if she has a serious heart attack here in the woods.“
    “So you tried to sabotage our visit,“ Jane said, sensing that the moral position Edna had taken was probably wrong and certainly unalterable.
    “Yes. I thought if I made things unpleasant and difficult, I might persuade your committee to vote no.”
    Jane and Shelley looked at each other, but said nothing.
    “It was stupid and petty, but I have to save Allison,“ Edna said.
    “How could this save Allison?“ Jane asked. “Suppose you’d succeeded. This school thing wouldn’t make or break the resort.“
    “Oh, it could,“ Edna said. “You see, the convention business isn’t going well.“
    “Why not?“ Shelley asked. “It’s a wonderful facility for conventions.“
    “And it’s hard as hell to get to,“ Edna responded. “Convention attendees have gotten spoiled over the years. They want open spaces, attractive settings, all of that, but they want to just get off a plane and be there. Or at least not be much more than a cab ride away from an airport. Nobody wants to land in Chicago, rent a car, drive for hours, and run a risk of getting lost. People will do that for a family vacation, but not for a convention. There’s only one crummy bus a day to the nearest town, and purchasing and operating shuttles would be prohibitively expensive.“
    “Aren’t there enough vacationers to till the place?“ Jane asked.
    “Not since Benson built the Convention Center building. Vacationers don’t want a dormitory atmosphere. They want privacy—the cabins in the woods.”
    She had lowered her voice. People were starting to wander into the dining room. The staff had apparently seen off the last of the local people and were now bringing out the metal containers and candles that would keep the food hot.
    “Frankly, I can’t agree with your motives,“ Jane said. “But you’re right to tell the sheriff.“
    “I know. It’ll be humiliating, but he needs to sort the wheat from the chaff now that he’s got a murder to solve.“
    “Who do you think killed Sam Claypool?“ Jane asked impulsively.
    “I have no idea,“ Edna said. “And to be honest, I don’t care. I just wish it hadn’t happened here.“
    “I’m surprised you’d say that,“ Shelley said. “What’s more discouraging than a murder?”
    Edna sat up very straight and glared at her. “I think that’s a very tasteless remark.“
    “I think murder is pretty