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

him how to run his crime scene.
    “When did you first discover the body?” Gibbs asked.
    “Whenever I called 911. Probably 10:40pm, give or take. There should be a log of that.”
    “Did you see anyone down here at that time?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Let me see the bottom of your shoes,” Gibbs said.
    “Really? You think I did this?”
    “Shoes, kid,” he commanded. 
    I flipped up the bottom of my sneakers. Gibbs eyed the pattern. He looked slightly disappointed that they didn’t match the blood stained prints. 
    “Happy?” I asked.
    Gibbs arched an eyebrow at me.
    “I’d have to be pretty stupid to kill someone and walk through the blood. Then call the cops and not change shoes,” I said.
    “Too bad being a smart-ass isn’t against the law,” Gibbs said. His patience with me was running thin. 
    “Detective Gibbs,” one of the officers called out. “I think we found something.
    “What is it?” Gibbs asked.
    The officer was wearing latex rubber gloves. Dangling between his thumb and index finger was a large silver crescent wrench. Just like the one I had handed to Jake earlier in the evening. The head of the tool was stained with dried blood. 
    My stomach turned in knots. Was that Jake’s crescent wrench? Were my fingerprints on that wrench?

CHAPTER 5
    I FELT MY knees go weak. My first instinct was to run. My heart was racing, and I was starting to sweat. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. 
    Still, I couldn’t help the thought of getting accused of something I didn’t do. I was panicking, knowing that I would be considered a suspect. Then I felt like that panic would be perceived as guilt. Because only a guilty person has something to panic about, right?
    If that was Jake’s wrench, my fingerprints were all over it. My head was spinning. I needed to get a grip and start thinking about this rationally. There was nothing to worry about. I had a solid alibi. Except for the five minutes I was talking to Mr. Bancroft. I hoped that gap wouldn’t come back to haunt me, no pun intended.
    “What’s the matter, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Gibbs said.
    “Nothing,” I gulped. Suddenly, my mouth was dry, and I was sweating again.
    “Out with it,” Gibbs said. “Have you seen the wrench before?”
    “Maybe,” I said.
    “Either you have, or you haven’t.”
    “Well, I can’t be sure it’s the same exact wrench.”
    “Okay. Let me put it to you like this. Who owns a wrench that looks just like that?” Gibbs asked.
     I hesitated. It seemed so impossible that Jake would do something like this. I felt terrible implicating him. But I had to be honest. “The maintenance guy has a lot of tools.”
    “I’m not asking about a lot of tools. I’m asking about that tool,” Gibbs said.
    “Yes, he’s got a wrench like that.”
    “And who is this maintenance guy?”
    “His name is Jake,” I said. “But he’s really nice, and I don’t think he did this.”
    “Nice people commit crimes all the time. I guess they don’t teach you that in Criminology 101,” Gibbs said, snidely. “If you ever want to be a detective, you’re going to have to learn to trust the facts.”
    The officer brought the wrench to Gibbs. “Where did you find this?”
    “Trashcan by the elevator,” the officer said.
    “Bag it, and log it into evidence,” Gibbs said.
    The coroner came and collected the body. I followed Gibbs, and the other officers, up to the lobby.
    “Where’s this Elliot DuMond?” Gibbs asked me.
    “I think he lives in apartment 202,” I said.
    “Go get him,” Gibbs said to one of the uniformed officers. 
    The officer scurried away. Gibbs looked around the lobby. It was empty and quiet. He saw the maintenance closet in the corner of the room and moved toward it. Gibbs jiggled on the door handle, but it was locked.
     Bancroft passed through the door. A moment later he came out, shaking his head, ominously. Whatever he saw in there wasn’t