If Catfish Had Nine Lives(96)

            Jim scratched his bald head and pushed up his glasses. He’d been a police officer long enough to both respect Amy’s abilities and remember to question everything, remember that even with measurements and precise crime scene investigations, anything at all is possible until you knew the exact truth and specifics.

            “It’ll be difficult to question everyone that’s close to five feet five inches tall, Amy. We have a bushel of visitors in town. Is there anything more you can tell us?” Jim asked.

            Amy tapped a finger on her pursed lips. She looked at Jim, at Cliff, and back at Jim.

            “Well, this isn’t based on a measurement, Jim. Not really. But given the distance and the method, I’m guessing the killer didn’t know the victim very well, but wanted them dead enough that when they saw a gun, they picked it up and shot it because they were a good shot. Or they were shooting at someone else and missed, or they fired the gun accidentally. Find the gun, and I imagine you’ll figure out the other partics quickly.”

            I guessed that “partics” meant particulars.

            “Wait. You’re saying you think the killer found a gun somewhere? Just found one and used it?” Jim said.

            Amy shrugged. “I kind of do. If the crime was premeditated, it wasn’t ‘pre’ by much. Too risky. It’s kind of amazing the killer didn’t get caught considering everyone that was around. No one would plan to kill someone with such a large group of onlookers. I’m taking into consideration the spot from where the shot was fired. I don’t think the shooter was hiding, or even trying to hide. That’s a pretty telling fact. I think it was an impulse, or maybe even an accident.”

            Jim blinked and didn’t hide his doubt.

            “We don’t just leave guns lying around; real or fake. It’s something we pay pretty close attention to,” Jim said.

            Amy shrugged again. I was beginning to dislike the smug maneuver.

            “You said you have a lot of people in town. Maybe one of your visitors lost a weapon. You might want to check. Or, like I said, maybe it was just an accident and the shooter is scared witless—who wouldn’t be? In fact, as I’m sure you know, there’s a big chance that the killer isn’t still around.” She looked down toward the intersection where the hanging platform would sit in only a few months. “Look at all those woods back behind everything. They weren’t in the woods when they shot, I’m sure of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they just ran off into them. You should check everything.”

            Jim blinked and set his jaw firmly. “We do. We will.”

            I knew they’d checked everything already and would check everything again. Cliff already told me they suspected the killer might have run into the woods, but they hadn’t been able to find any evidence that indicated that path of escape.

            “Excellent,” Amy said. “Now who’s going to take me out for breakfast? Cliffy?” She smiled at him.

            Evan cleared his throat uncomfortably. I looked up at him.

            “Should I be worried?” I said with a smile and my own wink.

            “I don’t think so, but she sure makes me uncomfortable,” Evan said, returning the smile.

            I looked at Cliff. He happened to look my direction at the same time. The fact that the scene being investigated was the result of a murder made everything far too serious to joke or even smirk, but Cliff did send me a quick look that confirmed that I had nothing to worry about.

            “I’d be happy to take you out for breakfast. In fact, I’d love to take your whole crew,” Cliff said.

            Amy looked around at the non-talkative group of men. “I suppose they can come, too. We going to that charming place down the street? Bunny’s, is it?”