Free Wicked Ways: Death at the DuMond (A Cozy Witch Mystery Book 1) by Ava Collins Page B

me attempt to not ogle the driver.  He was good looking. What was a girl to do?
     We drove another several blocks in silence. The driver kept staring at me. I began to wonder if I had a big zit, or something unsightly on my face. Why did he keep staring at me? He looked increasingly bothered as we got closer and closer to the neighborhood. 
    We finally pulled up to the corner at 32 nd and Vermont. The cabbie’s eyes darted around nervously, like he was expecting someone to jump out from the shadows at any minute. 
    “Look, lady, it’s none of my business, but I’m 6’3”, 250 pounds, and I don’t feel safe around here.” 
    “I’ll be fine,” I said, feigning confidence.
    He shook his head. “You’re braver than I am.”
    I stepped out of the car and handed him the fare through the passenger window. I gave him a nice tip as well. “Can you pick me back up here in a half hour?”
    “Lady, you’re crazy if you think I’m coming back to this part of town. I actually value my life.” 
    The cab driver sped away from the curb. Above me, the pale orange glow of the streetlight flickered. The entire block was dim, and there was hardly a soul stirring. A homeless man was curled up in a nearby doorway. The buildings were dingy and covered with graffiti. 
    I pulled out the mirror and studied the image that still persisted in it. We were definitely standing on the same street corner. The building we were looking for should be several hundred yards to the south on Vermont. 
    Most of the street lights were out in that direction. It was a dark, desolate city block, lined with dilapidated buildings and blind alley ways. 
    I was starting to feel like this was a mistake. Bancroft looked at me, admonishingly.
    “Not a word, Banksy. Not a word.” 
    “Sixteen murders. Forty-five robberies. Fifty-two felony assaults. Eighty-nine grand larcenies,” Bancroft recited.
    “I said not a word .”
    “I didn’t say a word. I said thirteen words.”
    “I suppose those thirteen words are the crime statistics for the last year?”
    “No. The statistics for the last month. Just on this particular block, I might ad,” Bancroft said. His tone was unnervingly calm.
    The hair on the back of my neck stood tall, and a chill ran down my spine.

CHAPTER 14
    BANCROFT AND I walked down the gloomy street. We were standing in the exact location where the building should be, but it was gone. As in, demolished. I was sure we were in the right place. Both the buildings to the right and to the left matched the image displayed in the mirror. But the gemstone in my pocket was cold. It should have been hot. Almost too hot to touch if we were close by.
    “Well, I guess we can go home now,” Bancroft said.
    “This doesn’t make any sense.” I held up the mirror, looking from the image to the empty space where the building once was. “They must have just knocked this building down.”
    “That, or you’re not very good at location spells.”
    “I never said I was an expert.”
    The image in the mirror began to fade. All that was left was a normal reflection. In that reflection, I saw two shadowy figures behind me across the street. I slowly turned to look at them. They were staring back at us.
    At the end of the block, where the cab dropped us off, two more shadowy figures were heading our way.
    “I think we should start moving.” My voice was shaking a little.  
    Bancroft looked around. The figures were closing in on us. “I agree.”
    We started a brisk walk south on Vermont, into the darkness. The two men across the street paced us, stride for stride. Every time we marched faster, they sped up as well. I looked over my shoulder. The two men following from behind were gaining on us. This wasn’t looking good. Maybe I should have listened to the cab driver.
    The street was desolate, apart from the brutish men closing in on us. It seemed that most people had enough common sense to stay off these streets at night. I was beginning to