Killer Punch Read Online Free

and swimming to the shore of Ireland, and a battalion of Mrs. Potts’s uncles and cousins stormed the beaches of Europe during World War II. They just don’t give up.
    â€œShould we cancel the party?” asked Eula. “Because I feel absolutely terrible for Mrs. Potts here.” She gave Holly a nasty little glare. “Even if other ­people want to use your painting as a PR ploy.”
    â€œNo, no,” said Mrs. Potts gruffly, waving Eula aside. “Pottses never cancel events. I trust Walt here to figure out what happened to Heifer in Tomato Patch .”
    We all looked askance at this statement, since Walt’s a hardworking guy, but since there’s only one of him and he’s usually dealing with things like bar fights at the Bryn Mawr Pub and lost cats. However, Honey’s faith in Walt was touching, and seemed to give him a confidence boost.
    â€œWhy was the painting here at the club, exactly, again?” Walt asked her gently. “And how many ­people knew it here?”
    â€œ Heifer in Tomato Patch is one of the only pieces of English pastoral art that features my two passions in life,” explained Mrs. Potts. “The Potts family has always been devoted to both cattle and tomatoes.”
    â€œUh-­huh,” said Walt, as everyone’s eyes except Eula’s glazed over, since she’s an avid grower of Early Girls herself.
    Predictably, Holly and the Colketts had zero interest in the subject of the party they were planning, since tomato growing was generally done by a more senior group of Bryn Mawr stalwarts.
    In fact, so obsessed is the town by the tasty veggie that Saturday’s event was part one of the Tomato Show, which includes the kickoff party and the Early Girl competition. Part two of the show happens a ­couple of weeks later, and features about forty-­five additional categories of said plant that ripen at the end of July.
    As Mrs. Potts explained that the painting was the centerpiece of her annual Tomato Show lecture, I saw Sophie and Bootsie exchange an eye roll and start checking their phones, with Sophie clicking on what looked like the Neiman Marcus Web site. To be honest, it did sound like the lecture could have been a bit of a snooze.
    â€œAnd a lot of ­people knew the painting would be here?” continued Walt.
    â€œThis Bryn Mawr Gazette had it on the front page last Thursday,” said Honey, indicating Bootsie with an outstretched glass of vodka. “Bootsie wrote the story, so who knows, maybe that brought out the criminal element.”
    â€œSorry.” Bootsie shrugged. Guilt isn’t an emotion Bootsie really experiences, which is why she’s great at unearthing gossip and has an actual talent for digging up clues—­or at least digging through personal belongings, medicine cabinets, and trash cans.
    â€œSo, everyone in town and anyone who reads the Gazette knew about the painting.” Walt nodded. He closed his notebook and looked around the room. “Bootsie, I need you to run a favor past your boss at the paper,” he told her. “Give me a day or two to get this painting back before you run a story about it.”
    â€œThe horse is out of the barn, Walt,” observed Mrs. Potts, clearing her throat and gulping down a bit of Smirnoff. “What’s the difference now? And who knows, maybe whoever stole Heifer will get scared and bring it back.”
    Walt was shaking his head. “Media coverage usually hurts more than it helps,” he told her. “First you get the weirdos, folks who claim to know where the painting is, or who try to find it themselves,” he explained. “Also, say the person who stole this thing had no idea it’s worth over a hundred grand. We don’t want that information out there.”
    I felt for Walt. He looked tired and slightly rumpled.
    â€œ ’I’m going to have Jared here gather all the club employees so we can ask if