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

stepmother.”
     Gibbs sighed, exasperated. “I’m going to follow up with this Thomas Kemp tomorrow.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    Gibbs was frustrated with me. “You’re not going to go away, are you?”
    “Nope.”  I smiled.
    “How about I make you a deal?” Gibbs asked.
    “What have you got in mind?”
    “I’ll make you privy to inside information if you quit busting my balls, okay?”
    “Like an apprentice?”
    Gibbs shrugged, reluctantly. “Yes, like an apprentice. A very silent apprentice.”
     I smiled. “Deal.”
    “First, I need to rule you out as a suspect,” Gibbs said.

CHAPTER 6
    “WE KNOW MRS. DuMond was alive at around 10pm. We know, from your statement, and the 911 records, that Mrs. DuMond was dead by 10:41pm,” Gibbs said to me.
    “Actually, we don’t know either of those things,” I said. “We only know that Charlotte and Elliott said she was alive at around 10pm. We only know that I called 911 at 10:41pm. I could have killed Mrs. DuMond after I called.”
    Gibbs rolled his eyes.  
    “Hey, you’re the one who is still considering me as a suspect,” I said.
    “Okay, so what’s your motive?”
    Bancroft wandered around the lobby as we talked.
    “She’s evicting us,” I said. “Crime of passion.”
    “I don’t buy it, kid,” Gibbs said.
    “Why not? It’s plausible.”
    “No, it’s not. You’re a smart cookie. Calculated, observant, and reserved,” Gibbs said. “I bet your room is neat and organized, with everything in its proper place?”
    I nodded. “I’m not a fan of clutter.”
    “A wrench to the head is messy. Too many things can go wrong. Too many variables,” Gibbs said. “You can’t control the blood spatter. It might take more than one blow. Anyone could walk in the parking garage and see you. The victim might even overpower you and take the weapon away.” 
    Gibbs’s eyes surveyed me. “No, it’s just not your style. If you were going to kill someone, you’d poison them. Poisoning someone is detached and removed. Less variables. More certainty of outcome. And it’s not messy.”
    “So, you don’t think I killed Mrs. DuMond?”
    “Not unless your prints come back on that wrench,” Gibbs said.
     I cringed, but I didn’t say anything. Best to deal with that later. 
    “I believe we already have our killer. But you know these residents better than I do. Who should I be looking at as suspects?” Gibbs asked.
    “Mrs. Abbott,” Bancroft said.
    Without thinking, I responded aloud. “Mrs. Abbott?”
    “Why Mrs. Abbott?” Gibbs asked.
    Mr. Bancroft shrugged.
    I fumbled for words. “Um, because everyone is a suspect. And we can’t be too careful.”
    Detective Gibbs looked at his watch. “It’s almost 1:30 in the morning. I find witnesses are a lot more willing to talk when they’re not woken out of a dead sleep.”
    “Time is of the essence,” I said. “We should do a knock and talk right now. If a crime isn’t solved in the first 48 hours, the odds of ever solving it go down dramatically.”
    “I’m telling you. We’ll get better information tomorrow,” Gibbs said. “And I’ll have more information back from the forensics lab.”
    I squinted at Gibbs. “Are you just trying to get rid of me?”
    “No. I’m tired, and I want to go home.” Gibbs handed me his card. He said he’d be back in the morning, then he left.
    “You’re not really serious about Mrs. Abbott being a suspect, are you?” I said to Bancroft.
    “Time will tell, it always does,” Bancroft said. “I believe this was a crime of panic.”
    “Panic? What do you mean?”
    “It seems haphazard. Last-minute. Someone got scared,” Bancroft said. He thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. “Who knows.”
    “But you don’t think it was Jake, do you?”
    Bancroft raised his eyebrows and shrugged again.
    “What are you not telling me?”
    “It seems there is more to young Jake than meets the eye,” Bancroft said.
    “Come on, Banksy, what do you