The Old Witcheroo Read Online Free PDF

to brush up on my investigating skills is all.”
    I’d laugh, but I did that, too. I took a chug of the water and nodded. “I get it.”
    “And you did say last night like you knew the time of death. I’m paying closer attention to body language and details these days. Especially details from witnesses.”
    “Well, it’s obvious it was last night, Sandwich. Look at how she was dressed. In a cute outfit and matching purse. Even though it’s smeared now, she has lipstick and mascara on, suggesting she was dressing up for something. Sophia was a natural beauty. She hardly ever wore makeup and she didn’t dress like that at the library. Plus, at one point, her hair was up, judging from the silver barrette now stuck to the side of her head. Also, the wound just above her heart. The blood’s coagulated now and that suggests it happened a while ago…”
    I stopped. I had to, because seeing that wound in my head was going to hang around for a long time.
    “Wow,” he said with a touch of awe in his voice. “You’ve really been taking this investigating thing seriously.”
    “I sort of have to, with the way dead people keep turning up.” Then I shook my head, my stomach turning. “Sorry. That was an awful, ugly thing to say. I’m frazzled is all. It’s hot, and the heat makes me cranky. I’m sick with upset because I really liked Sophia, and I’m sicker with worry for Dana. He was so excited… I know he’s the last person you’d expect to be all light-of-step and hearts and flowers, but last night he was in such a great mood—”
    “Last night?” Sandwich interrupted, his eyes razor sharp now as he peered down at me. “There are those words again, Stevie. How do you know what Officer Nelson’s state of mind was last night ?”
    Aw, hellfire and toad spit. Why not just hand him over to the police on a platter with an apple in his mouth, Stevie? You know he’s going to be a suspect. The boyfriend’s always the first person the police look at. You know he took her out last night. You know he was taking her out for something important.
    Thankfully, I didn’t have to answer because the roar of a police car, sirens blaring, screeched to a halt just up the cliff by our house.
    Officer Nelson flew down the stairs to the shorefront; his long legs taking the rickety steps I’d been meaning to have Enzo look at, three at a time. “Sophia?” he bellowed, heading straight for the cluster of police and investigators surrounding the boat. Even from here I saw his face—stricken, a mask of inconsolable grief beneath tightly stretched, ruddy skin.
    Good Cop, as I called him, Detective Ward Montgomery, grabbed him and prevented him from going any closer toward the boat, while Bad Cop, Montgomery’s partner Sean Moore, stood behind him. “Stop, man!” he shouted as Dana struggled with him, almost knocking him down. “Dana! Stop!” Detective Montgomery roared, giving him a hard shake.
    That was when Officer Nelson’s wide shoulders collapsed, and I almost followed suit. The combination of the heat and Dana’s grief, watching a man so emotionally in check lose it, was almost more than I could stand to watch.
    “Just let me see her, Ward!” he cried, his anguished words echoing in my ears until I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming myself.
    No. He shouldn’t see Sophia. I didn’t want him to have that with him forever.
    But Dana pushed away from Detective Montgomery and appeared to shake off his rage, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders as he blew out breaths.
    Then he held up a hand to his fellow officers as they began to gather closer, move in tighter. “Okay, okay,” he said, backing away a step or two, but still pacing like a caged lion. “Just tell me who found her? Who found her, Ward?” he shouted, edging closer to the men preventing him from getting to the rowboat. “ Who found her?”
    “I did,” I croaked, moving toward him, my hands outstretched in apology.