Free Slay it with Flowers by Kate Collins Page A

to find Bertie poking around in the tall sedge several feet from the scene.
    “I found the murder weapon,” he called.
    We gathered around as he parted the thin reedy grass for a better look. The light glimmered off a rectangular, silvery object, one corner coated in blood, pieces of scalp, and short strands of two-toned hair.
    “Is it a gun?” Ursula asked.
    Bertie crouched down for a better look. “It’s Flip’s camera. I’d know that fancy strap anywhere.”
    “Flip is strong enough to kill Punch vith his camera?” Ursula asked. “I don’t think so.”
    “Is the camera strong enough?” I asked.
    “It’s a professional photographer’s camera,” Bertie explained and reached toward it.
    “Don’t touch it,” I warned him, causing him to jerk his hand back. “The police will want to check it for fingerprints.”
    Sabina began to sob, and Jillian dug for her phone.
    “Let’s move away from here so we don’t disturb things more than we already have,” I suggested. “We’ll go back the way we came, single file, and wait for the police in the clearing back there.”
    “What about Flip?” Bertie asked. “Shouldn’t we keep looking for him?”
    “Maybe he’s dead, too,” Ursula said, which made Sabina cry harder.
    Jillian shut her phone with a snap. “Onora still isn’t answering. She must have taken a sleeping pill.”
    “Maybe she’s not there,” I said.
    “Of course she’s there,” Jillian replied, but she didn’t sound totally convinced. “Where else would she be?”
    We gathered about ten yards down from the blind. Claymore paced, jingling coins in his pocket. Bertie kept watch, in case the killer was still in the area. Sabina wept, and the rest of us whispered together, still trying to absorb the shock of finding Punch’s body. In the distance sirens wailed.
    “I killed him,” Claymore said in a hoarse voice, coming to a stop beside Jillian.
    As we all turned to stare at him, Jillian said, “Clay, don’t be silly. You wouldn’t harm a fly.” She shifted several inches away, just to play it safe.
    “Claymore,” I said, “do not say that to the police unless you actually did kill him. They tend to take statements like that seriously.”
    “Well, I’m the one who showed him the blind.”
    “Come on, Clay,” Bertie said. “Go easy on yourself, boyo. You didn’t know someone wanted Punch dead.”
    “Are you serious?” Jillian asked. “I know a lot of people who wanted Punch—”
    I stuck my hand over her mouth. “Now is not the time to be snide, Jill.”
    “I suppose it could have been accidental,” Sabina said, wiping her eyes.
    Jillian peeled my fingers off her mouth. “I’ll bet it was Punch’s new girlfriend. She probably conked him when he got rough with her.”
    “We don’t know that he had a girlfriend,” Sabina reminded her.
    “Then where did he go every night?” Jillian retorted.
    “And why did he strut around, acting like he had this big secret?”
    No one had a better answer.
    “The problem with Jill’s theory,” I said, “is that Punch was hit on the back of the head,” I patted my skull to demonstrate, “and fell face forward, which indicates to me that someone hit him from behind when he wasn’t expecting it. If he and this mystery woman were engaged in sex play, rough or not, how did she get behind him to hit him with that much force?”
    “Are you saying she couldn’t have been behind him?” Jillian argued, unsheathing her claws.
    “Just that it’s not likely. But for argument’s sake, let’s say this mystery woman was behind Punch and slugged him with Flip’s camera. How did she get Flip’s camera?”
    Jillian glowered at me. She hated having her theories disputed. “Maybe Punch brought his mystery girlfriend out here, and Flip was already here taking his silly bird photos —”
    “They’re not silly,” Sabina protested. “Stop saying that.”
    “Maybe Flip vas upset when they interrupted him, and he left vithout his