Jane Goes Batty

deeper than her shoulders. It seems to me she might have saved herself a great deal of difficulty by simply standing up. Of course, someone might have held her down. I wouldn’t know.”

Jane was still processing Sherman’s news and wasn’t paying attention to his chatter. “You’re absolutely sure it’s Jessica Abernathy?” she said.

Sherman nodded. “Officer Pete Bear told me himself not twenty minutes ago. He’s the one who fished her out.”

“And you’re absolutely sure she’s dead?” said Jane.

“Well, I’m not a physician,” Sherman replied. “But Officer Bear was kind enough to let me have a peek at her, and she certainly looked dead to me. Quite blue around the face. Not at all pleasant to look at. Also, and I hope you’ll forgive me for mentioning this, given your attachment to Walter, but I distinctly remember that Evelyn Fletcher looked very much the same when she was pulled from the lake.”

At the mention of Walter’s deceased wife Jane felt a pang of sadness. Evelyn had drowned during a Fourth of July picnic a little more than fifteen years earlier. Jane of course had never met her, having lived in Brakeston for only a decade, but when Walter spoke about her (which he did very rarely) it was with such affection that Jane was sure she would have liked her very much. It was an odd thing to feel for a woman some might consider a rival for Walter’s love, but Jane had never thought of Evelyn in that way. She was simply a part of Walter’s history.

“It was rude of me to bring up the past,” said Sherman. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Oh,” Jane said, realizing that to Sherman she must appear to be in a daze. “It’s not that. It’s just that, well, I’m actually waiting for Jessica. We were supposed to have breakfast and talk about my book. She’s my—was my —editor.”

“So I understand,” said Sherman. “Do you have any idea who might want to do her harm?”

“Only anyone who’s met her,” Jane said before she could stop herself. She blushed. “That was a terrible thing to say.”

“It was,” Sherman agreed. “Which is why you must say even more. She sounds like an absolute terror.”

Jane glanced at Sherman, who she could tell was working very hard not smile. “One shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” she told him with mock reproach.

“Who better to speak ill of?” he replied. “They’re not around to hear you!”

Jane bit her lip. Part of her was thrilled to hear that Jessica was no longer going to be a problem. But she also had to wonder who might have killed her, and why.

“I hesitate to say so,” she told Sherman. “But the only person I can think of who would want her dead is I.”

“How thrilling,” Sherman said. “It isn’t often I get to sit beside a murderess. It will make a wonderful chapter for my memoirs.” He patted Jane’s knee. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe you have it in you.”

You have no idea, Jane thought, although she appreciated the sentiment. “I wonder how long it will take for the news to spread,” she said.

“That is also an intriguing subject,” Sherman answered. “It seems the police are going to hold off on making an announcement until Monday.”

“Monday?” Jane said. “Why?”

“They don’t want to interrupt the delightful festival that has taken over our fair town,” said Sherman. “It’s bringing some much-needed capital to our coffers, and they fear news of a possible murder might spark needless concern among the more sensitive among us.”

“But what if the murderer strikes again?” said Jane. “They should let people know what’s going on.”

Sherman nodded. “I agree with you on that point,” he said. “Do you recall in the movie Jaws when the town council voted to overrule the sheriff’s wishes and keep news of the shark’s presence a secret so as not to spoil the lucrative summer tourist trade?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen the movie,” said Jane, surprised that Sherman had.

“The council’s decision was a grave error,” Sherman continued. “A great many more people died because of it. Of course it was necessary for the plot, and this is real life, but the principle is the same.” He sighed happily. “I do so love a good monster movie,” he said.

Jane looked at Sherman and wondered what other surprises were in him. “Do you think whoever killed Jessica might do it again?” she asked.

“It’s always a possibility,” said Sherman. “But let us hope not.”

Something puzzled Jane. “If the police want to keep this quiet for now, why are you telling me?”

“First, because of your connection to the Abernathy woman. Second, because you are a writer.”

Jane didn’t understand. “What has that got to do with it?”

“You’re used to considering multiple possibilities for a plot,” Sherman replied. “Perhaps something you think of will aid in the investigation.”

Another question occurred to Jane. “Who found the body?”

“Beverly Shrop,” Sherman said. “At least she’s the one who telephoned the police last night, so I assume she was the first to see the body.”

“Last night?” said Jane.

“Just before midnight,” Sherman said. “As I understand it, Miss Shrop was leaving the fairgrounds following the closing of the festival and walked by the dunk tank, where she saw the body.”

“And how did you find out about it?” Jane asked him.

Sherman’s eyes twinkled. “I am a newspaper editor,” he said. “It’s my business to know everything that happens.”

“In other words, you have a friend in the police department,” said Jane.

“I have many friends,” Sherman said. “It’s possible that some of them work in the police department. As I said, it’s my business to know what’s going on.”

“And yet you’re going to keep this a secret until they make an official announcement on Monday,” said Jane. “Interesting.”

Sherman chuckled. “Isn’t it though,” he said, standing up. “And now, my dear, I have a date with a bowl of oatmeal and a poached egg. I bid you a good day.” He walked toward the door of the restaurant. “Of course, if you think of anything that might be of interest regarding this story I would be most appreciative if you would think of me.”

“Of course,” Jane said. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Sherman disappeared into Sunnyside Up, leaving Jane to ponder what she’d learned. Again she was left with just one question: Who had killed Jessica Abernathy?

She supposed it could be a coincidence and that the murderer had chosen Jessica for reasons having nothing to do with who she was. In fact, that made the most sense. She was, as they say, in the wrong place at the wrong time, Jane thought. Although it seemed more accurate to say that she was in the wrong place at the right time or the right place at the wrong time, depending on your perspective. At any rate, she had been there at the same time as the murderer, which ultimately was the only thing that mattered.

There was nothing to be done about it at the moment, though, so she drove home. After making herself a cup of coffee, she went into her office. Jessica’s email was still open on the screen. Jane looked at it, wondering if it was the last email the editor had sent.

She was about to delete it when something caught her eye. The email had been sent at just after midnight that morning. “But Sherman said Beverly Shrop called the police just before midnight,” Jane informed Tom, who was still asleep in the sunspot on her desk. “How could Jessica have sent this message if she was already dead?”

Chapter 25

“You missed my panel this morning,” Byron said as he handed Jane a cup of punch. “In which I revealed to an enrapt audience the real Jane Austen.”