Jane looked doubtful. 'It might, I guess. Maybe the Claypool brothers thought since Benson invented the thing while he was working for them, that they ought to have had some rights to the patent. It must have been pretty profitable if selling the patent gave him enough money to buy this place. But if that were true, why would anybody kill Sam to get back at Benson? That doesn't compute. Benson obviously wants this contract, but it's not a life-or-death thing for him. It's not as if his whole family is going to be reduced to begging on the streets if we decide against it.”
Shelley ran her hands through her hair in a gesture of frustration. 'I'm so confused!'
“I'm confused and frightened,' Jane said. 'Liz was just angry about getting run down by the person in the falcon costume. I think it's far more ominous than she realized. A person who would assault someone to get a costume away from them is definitely up to no good. I think somebody was frantic to conceal his or her identity, and that's scary.”
Shelley glanced toward the lobby. 'I don't like the fact that a bunch of us are unaccounted for. Sam and John are missing. And I haven't seen Al for hours.'
“Shelley, let's go visit Marge.'
“To what purpose? To ask her if she killed her husband, then passed off his twin as the same person?”
'Not outright,' Jane said. 'But if the subject comes up. .?' she added with a grin.
“If Marge is involved, I'd just as soon she didn't think we knew. A person who could bump off her husband probably wouldn't mind doing in a couple of near strangers.'
“True. Okay, so we don't get near the subject. But I've never spoken to her except in a big group. I'd like to get more of a feel for what she's like.'
“That's what's most wrong here,' Shelley said. 'Marge is a mouse. A very nice mouse. She's a mild, hardworking woman with no—'
“Personality?' Jane suggested.
Shelley nodded. 'I just cannot imagine her involved in anything violent or illegal.'
“Then let's go talk to her. Who knows? She might inadvertently say something revealing.”
Shelley looked doubtful. 'Okay, but don't say anything that will make her wary of us. She probably is already. We're the ones who shot off our mouths about finding Sam's body.'
“Shelley, much as I hate pointing out the obvious, nobody believes us.'
“But the actual murderer knows we're right — to point out the even more obvious.”
Marge was no longer in her bathrobe. She was fully dressed, down to her boots. She seemed slightly alarmed to see them, or perhaps that was just Jane's imagination. She gave them a nervous smile and said, 'Oh, hello,' but stood her ground at the doorway.
“May we come in?' Jane asked bluntly.
“Well, I was just getting ready to go out and see where Sam is,' Marge said.
“Oh, he's probably helping get people on boats,' Shelley said.
“Boats?' Marge asked.
“Haven't you heard?' Jane said. 'The rain washed the bridge out and the local people can't get home except by boat. Apparently all the neighbors on the lakefront have pitched in to evacuate them.'
“How will we get out tomorrow?' Marge asked, reluctantly stepping back and gesturing grudgingly for them to enter the cabin.
“I'm afraid we might not be able to leave tomorrow,' Shelley said.
Marge shivered. 'I don't like this place. I want to leave. Surely there's some way to get out of here?”
Shelley explained about the logging road. 'But it's probably impassable, too. Marge, if you don't like this resort, does that mean you'll be recommending against sending the children here?' she asked, just to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, I hadn't thought about that. Yes, I guess so.”
“Does Sam feel the same way?' Jane asked. Shelley glared at her.
“I don't know. We haven't talked about it really.'
“It's a shame,' Shelley said. 'Benson Titus has gone to so much 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.
