Jane explained about losing her watch and going back to find it and discovering Sam Claypool as well.
“I don't mean to be indelicate,' Edna said, 'but how did you know he was dead? Did you take his pulse or try to determine whether he was breathing? Maybe he'd just fainted.”
Jane cleared her throat. 'His — his eyes were wide open even though it was raining in his face.'
“And his head had been hit with that big frying pan. Up high on his forehead. It was a bloody mess and looked sort of—' Shelley took a deep, shaky, breath. 'Sort of flattened out.'
“Why did he stay there?' Jane asked Edna. 'Or did he? Was he there when you left?”
Edna closed her eyes for a minute. 'Yes, I think he was. I saw Benson speak to him when all the other guests had left.'
“What were they talking about?' Shelley asked.
Edna shrugged. 'I couldn't hear and probably wouldn't have paid attention anyway. Where is Benson?'
“Right here,' he said from the kitchen door. He'd dressed in waterproof clothing and was heading for the front door.
“Don't you dare go up there by yourself,' Edna said.
“Mom, I'm not crazy. I'm going up with the sheriff when he gets here.'
“And I'm going to take a shower and go to bed,' Shelley said firmly, even though her chin was still trembling with cold and fright.
“But the police will want to talk to you,' Edna said.
“Then they'll have to talk to me when I'm in my jammies,' Shelley said. 'I've never been so cold and uncomfortable in my life. And we left a fire in the fireplace because we thought we'd be right back.”
Edna tried to keep them with offers of hot coffee, dry clothes, and beds in the lodge, but Jane and Shelley were both determined to go 'home,' to their own cabin and clothes.
“At least wait and let the sheriff see you safely into your cabin, and lock up really well,' Edna warned.
Jane liked Edna, but was so miserable she was tempted to say, as Benson had,
“I'll have Taylor drop me off with you and see you in safely, then walk the rest of the way.”
It would have been polite to object to this self-sacrificing offer, but they were beyond courtesy. They waited in the van with the engine running and the heater going full blast. When the sheriff appeared, Benson hopped in the car with Taylor, and Shelley drove the van behind them. The sheriff not only took the time to see them inside, he quickly checked thebathroom, closet, and storeroom, made sure the glass doors were locked and drapes drawn, and they locked the door after him.
Jane and Shelley discarded their filthy, freezing outer clothing in the storage area. Jane said, 'You're a faster shower taker than I am. You go first.”
She put on her robe over her underwear and huddled on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Shelley walked into the bathroom door, and came back out a minute later in her long T-shirt nightgown. 'I'm too tired. And I'm sick of water falling on me.'
“Poor Marge,' Jane said, her voice muffled by her pillow. She struggled up to a sitting position. 'I wonder when they'll tell her.'
“Not until they've taken the body away, I'd guess. I hope she doesn't have to identify it in that condition. I wonder where she thinks he is.'
“Still at the campsite? Alive at the campsite, mean,' Jane suggested. 'Or maybe she assumed he went on down to the lodge. It's not that late, you know.' She held up the watch that had started their ill-fated quest. 'It's only nine-thirty.'
“No,' Shelley said, then glanced at her own watch and said, 'My gosh, you're right. It seems like it ought to be nearly dawn.' She thought for a minute. 'I haven't had time to really take this in, but who would want to kill Sam Claypool? He was such a boring, innocuous person. I can't imagine him rousing that kind of passion in anybody.'
“Maybe it was that drunken nutcase, what's his name?'
“Oh, Lucky Smith. Maybe. He could have gotten tanked up and figured it would really wreck things for Benson if a guest were found dead.'
“Kind of an extreme way to make a point.”
“That's why they call them extremists,' Shelley said. 'Why don't you make us some coffee.”
“Because my legs have solidified. Give me a second and I'll do it. I wonder who else might be roaming around in the woods and up to no good.”
“On a night like this, not many,' Shelley said. 'But you're always hearing about batty survivalists in remote areas.”
Shelley nodded. 'Yes, but I think most of them have their own land and warehouses for their weapons. I don't think they do much camping out in the rain in October. Although, for all I know, that could be their very favorite activity,' she added with a wry smile.
“Should we go over to Marge's cabin when the police have told her?'
“A sympathy call? I don't think so. She's got her family with her. John and Eileen. I think it would be butting in. We can take her some food when we get back home. I guess we'll all leave tomorrow instead of staying on. Liz is going to be disappointed that she can't make a thorough report.”
