Wicked Ways: Death at the DuMond (A Cozy Witch Mystery Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

didn’t seem too thrilled about doing this out in the open either. We moved to one of the couches in the lobby. Detective Gibbs began soft-balling questions to Elliott. It was obvious that Gibbs didn’t really consider him a suspect. I don’t know why. Elliott was the sole heir to the entire DuMond fortune.
    Elliott described the events of the evening to Detective Gibbs.
    “What time did you leave the party?” Gibbs asked.
    “I don’t know. Almost 10pm,” Elliott said.
    “What about you, Miss Fox?” asked Gibbs.
    “I was with Elliott,” She said. Then, trying to avoid the appearance of impropriety, she added, “We’re engaged.”
    Gibbs jotted that down in his notebook.
    “Then what?” Gibbs asked.
    “Really, Detective Gibbs, I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said. 
    Elliott rolled his eyes. “We went to sleep, Detective Gibbs. I’ve got an early appointment in the morning, and I wanted to get a full night’s rest. I wish I had something more scintillating to say. We lead a rather boring life.”
    Charlotte glared at him. “Boring? Are you saying I’m boring?”
    “No. Honey, I’m not saying you’re boring. Or, that I’m bored, or anything,” Elliott stammered. “ I just meant to say that I was tired.”
    Mr. Bancroft was snickering. Charlotte was seething. 
    “That’s okay. I don’t need to know the intimate details of your relationship,” Gibbs said. “Just so I have this straight. You were in your apartment before 10pm. And stayed there the rest of the night, correct?”
    “Yes,” Elliott said.
    “Can anyone else corroborate this?” Gibbs asked.
    “Yes,” Charlotte blurted out. “I was on the phone from about 10pm to 11pm.”
    “With who?” Gibbs asked.
    “I was speaking with a client, trying to do damage control,” Charlotte said.
    “What do you do, Miss Fox?” Gibbs asked.
    “Well, I thought with all of my social connections that I would be a great publicist. So, I’ve taken on a few clients. But we had a bit of an issue,” Charlotte said. “It seems the food critic at the Post didn’t like my client’s restaurant. Since I had arranged for the review, my client is less than thrilled with me at the moment. In fact, and I’m ashamed to say, my client fired me last night.”
    “And who is your client?” Gibbs said.
    “Thomas Kemp,” said Charlotte.
    “And the restaurant?” Gibbs asked. 
    “Poseidon,” Charlotte said, meekly. 
    “You’d have to be one hell of a publicist to give that restaurant a good name,” Gibbs said. “No offense.” Gibbs looked to Elliott. “So, the last time you saw your stepmother was just before 10pm?”
    “Yes, that’s correct,” Elliott said.
    “She lived in the building?” asked Gibbs.
    “Yes, she’s in apartment 102,” Elliott said.
    “You don’t have any objection if I look around her apartment, do you?” Gibbs asked.
    “No. Whatever you need,” said Elliott.
    “Do you have any idea what she would have been doing in the parking garage?” Gibbs asked.
    “She always did a check of the parking garage each evening,” Elliott said. “There is a $50 fine for parking in an unassigned space.”
    “I see,” said Gibbs. “Well, I think that’s all the questions I have for now. Again, I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
    I couldn’t believe that was all the questions that Gibbs was going to ask. He handed them his card and told them to call him if they thought of anything that might be of use in solving the case.
    “Thank you, Detective,” Elliott said, as he stood up.
    The two shook hands, and Elliott and Charlotte retired to their apartment. When they were gone, Gibbs looked at me and asked, “Did that meet with your satisfaction?”
    I shrugged. “I think you went a little easy on them.”
    “Really?”
    “Like you said, most murders are committed by someone the victim knows. Usually it’s a close relationship. And Elliott’s got almost a billion reasons to kill his