Gin Jones - Helen Binney 01 - A Dose of Death by Gin Jones

before or after the murder. There were plenty of fallen branches, although most of them seemed to be in a more advanced state of decomposition than the one that had been next to Melissa. Turning back toward the spot where Melissa’s body had fallen, Helen continued searching until she found another branch that was about the same size as the presumed murder weapon. She took several pictures of it, just in case they might be useful. Unlike the detective, she wasn’t prepared to dismiss anything as unimportant.
    In fact, she thought, it might be useful to have the actual branch for future reference, rather than just the picture. She tucked the camera in to her jacket pocket and bent to inspect the branch more closely. The side that had been touching the ground was slimy and discolored, but it wasn’t falling apart like most of the other similarly sized branches had been.
    Assuming it was the same size as the actual murder weapon, could she have picked it up and swung it? The detective didn ‘t think so, but Helen didn’t underestimate herself the way he had. She bent to pick it up, and found it wasn’t as heavy as she’d expected. It was a solid, substantial weapon, and she wouldn’t want to carry it for miles, but she could definitely lift it with one hand, at least briefly. Ignoring the damp and the dirt, she placed her other hand on it, holding it like a baseball bat, and swung at an imaginary victim.
    Her whole body spun with the force, and she had to release the branch to keep from falling over. Still, she felt validated. She had been able to swing it. She might not be able to do it again until she ‘d recovered from the jarring effect the first swing had had on her hip, but as far as she knew, one blow had been enough to kill Melissa. Helen could have done that much.
    She retrieved the branch from where it had fallen, deeper in the woods, and then picked her way carefully back to the police line and onto the grass of the back yard. Even here, where it looked as smooth as a golf course, there were little hills and valleys that could trip her up if she weren ‘t careful.
    She glanced over toward the taped-off grass. The ground looked perfectly smooth there, sloping only a few consistent degrees toward the woods, so water would run away from the cottage. If it was anything like the ground under her feet, though, it wasn ‘t as even as it appeared.
    Helen placed her Exhibit A, the branch, on the back deck and returned to the blood-stained spot. She lowered herself onto her hands and knees and then lay down on the grass, getting an ant ‘s-eye view of the ground. The area was definitely not as smooth as it had looked from a standing position.
    She held the camera just high enough that the closest grass wouldn ‘t obscure the image, and examined the area through the camera’s display. From this vantage point, she could see that there was another area of trampled grass, closer to her back deck, but away from the path she’d taken with the her murder-weapon replica. They were probably just from the forensics crew or emergency personnel, but she was trying to be more thorough than the detective had been and not make any assumptions.
    Struggling back to her feet, Helen contemplated the next step in her investigation. She had her photographs of the crime scene. She had her stand-in for the murder weapon. What else could she do?
    Tate would know. He had to have learned about crime investigation in the course of representing criminals. She’d ask him about it if he was at the law office tomorrow morning. There had to be a way to casually slip in the question, “How can I prove I murdered someone?”

C HAPTER SIX
     
    Jack arrived promptly at a quarter to ten the next morning.
    “ I heard about what happened to Melissa,” he said as he held the door for her to enter the back of the luxury car. “Are you okay?”
    “ I’m fine.”
    He waited until they were heading down the driveway before asking, “Do the police