Football is Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries) (10 page)

“It was good work by Springdale PD,” Mike said.

Julia skimmed through the report. It took up the entire front page—Jessie didn’t know how Ken had managed to pull all of this together in time to go to print.

“Wow, this is like something out of one of those eighties TV shows,” Julia whistled. “Betrayal and intrigue. Just how does a guy like that end up penniless?”

No one answered.
How could they?
Jessie thought. The guy had earned more in a year than she would earn in her lifetime. And it was the same for the others.

“And his wife,” Julia said, closing the paper. “What do you think of that?”

Jessie bit her lip. She felt the natural urge to share what she knew, but she didn’t feel right talking about something she’d seen when she was helping the chief. She shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s she like?”

Julia’s eyes widened. “You mean you haven’t seen? Don’t you watch TV?”

Jessie shrugged. “Movies sometimes. But not much otherwise.”

“Well, I’ve got it on pretty much constantly in the store. And let me tell you. Every channel you turn to lately, she’s on it.”

Melanie sighed. “Ah, the lives of the rich and famous, huh? Is she some kind of movie star? I feel sorry for her—no matter how wealthy she is, she must be hurting right now.”

Jessie flashed back to the dry-eyed woman who seemed more interested in talking about her art collection than she did about her late husband. She said nothing.

“She’s not, though,” Julia said. “She’s some kind of… lifestyle guru? The article didn’t really go into much detail.”

“So why’s she been on TV?”

“That’s the thing,” Julia said. “She’s selling some kind of book or program.”

Jessie shook her head. She didn’t get that woman at all. She didn’t understand any of the people involved in this thing.

* * *

Walking past Chad's house on the way home, Jessie got the same strange unsettled feeling. She tried to swallow it back. She clung tighter to Toby’s leash, glad to have his company even if he was all but useless in a crisis.

A crisis,
she thought. Wait.
What why am I thinking that? They got the bad guy. Everything is going back to normal around here.

So why did she feel so rattled?

She shook her head and looked around, trying to make sense of the way she was feeling. It was a gorgeous, warm evening. And she felt sure if anything was wrong, Toby would have sensed it and barked like crazy.

You’re imagining things, she told herself, and carried on walking.

Melanie was sitting on the porch reading a book. She had carried out one of the couch cushions and propped it up behind her. Jessie flopped down beside her and sighed. It was such a peaceful place. So why was her heart racing?

“What’s up with you?” Melanie asked, frowning at her. “You look really pale.”

Jessie shrugged. “I dunno. I guess looking at that house gives me the heebie-jeebies.” She stopped. Now that she’d said it out loud, she realized it wasn’t the house that was bothering her after all. But she couldn’t identify what was the cause of her discomfort.

Melanie sucked in a breath. “That’s too bad,” she said, eyes focused back on her book.

“Why?” Jessie asked.

Melanie shook her head. Jessie saw there was a little smile playing on her lips.

Jessie knew her cousin well enough to know that she was scheming something. She’d seen that face many times over the years. “Tell me,” she demanded.

Melanie folded down the page she was reading and put down her book. She stared at the weather-faded floorboards in front of them.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do now that I’m out of work.”

“It is a huge change,” Jessie agreed.

“It is. But I can’t help but think of it as an opportunity, just like you did.”

“I thought you loved your job.”

Melanie tossed her hair back. “I did and I didn’t. I thought I did?” She looked at Jessie with an almost pained expression. “But now I look back, I can’t help but see myself as a little rat on a treadmill. Running and running to power somebody else’s company.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s like they held out the prospect of partnership as a lure and we all ran and ran as hard as we could.”

“I’m sorry,” Jessie murmured.

Melanie brightened. “Don’t be. Not at all. I was devastated at first, but then I thought about it. I worked there for so long that my redundancy package built up to a substantial amount. You want to know something, Jessie?”

Jessie nodded.

“Thanks to all those weeks and months away from home and the per diems I got, plus bonuses and now the payout—if I live frugally, I can afford to work at something I love.” She sighed peacefully. “If I manage my money wisely, I might never have to look at another Gantt chart again.”

Jessie laughed. “It’s so weird. You’re in pretty much the same position as I was when I lost my job. Well, except for the fact that you can afford not to work.”

“Yeah, it’s funny how that goes.” Melanie trailed off and stared into space with a dreamy look on her face.

Jessie remembered what had brought them on to the topic. She frowned. “What’s this got to do with Chad’s house?”

Melanie grinned. “Well, I’m assuming it’s going to be up for sale soon if Chad is bankrupt and going to jail.”

“So?” Jessie shrugged.

“I remember you talking about it. That time you went to see it with that pushy real estate agent. It sounded like the Shangri La, the way you described it.”

Jessie nodded. “It is a beautiful house. It’s such a shame that it’s going to sit empty now. It took Candi quite a while to find a buyer.”

“Not if I buy it,” Melanie said with a devilish grin.

Jessie’s mouth fell open. “You’d really move here?”

Melanie nodded. “I’m still working the idea through in my head. But I think so, yeah. Ten years ago—no way. But a lot has changed since then. Plus every time I get off the phone with you or Aunt Bee, I’m jealous of all the fun goings on here.”

“This is coming from the woman who teased me for eating oatmeal?”

“It is,” Melanie said, nodding. “I might be on the brink of moving to a small town, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start eating old people food.”

“Wow,” Jessie said, smiling. “How fun would it be if you lived right across the street?”

Melanie balked. “What are you talking about?”

“How do you mean, you said…” Jessie’s smile faltered.

Melanie maintained her serious expression for all of five seconds. Finally, she broke into a smile. “Living across the street, you said. We wouldn’t be living across from each other.”

Jessie glanced at the house across the street. “Mel, I know you’re a business genius and all, but have you thought about having your eyes tested?”

Melanie snorted with laughter. “No, dummy. What I’m trying to say is if I do buy that house? We won’t be neighbors because I hope you’d move in with me. You and Aunt Bee.” She stared across the street. “That place is far too big for one person. And don’t you think it’d be lonely even if it wasn’t?”

Jessie sighed. She didn’t want to count her chickens, but Melanie’s plan sounded as close to idyllic as anything she had heard in a long time. And it was true—living alone for a short time had made it clear to her that she liked company after all.

“I’ll find Candi’s number if you like.”

Melanie shook her head slowly. “No. Let me mull this over some more. I’m used to using all of these scientific methods to make decisions. You know what? This time, I’m going to listen to what my heart wants.”

Chapter 12

“Want to watch a movie?” Melanie asked as they settled on the couch after dinner.

Jessie nodded. After the busy week she had had, she was too exhausted to suggest they do anything more active than laze around until bedtime.

“Okay,” Melanie said, grazing her lip with her teeth. “We’ve got a biopic of that off-the-rails movie star who’s all over the news. An action movie from the eighties. That’s all I can find that looks halfway good. Your house, your choice.”

Jessie shrugged. “Either is good with me.”

“Choose.”

“You’re just trying to set a precedent so if you do buy the house across the street, you’ll get to choose what we watch all the time.”

Melanie arched an eyebrow. “Honey, if I buy that house, there’ll be plenty of space for us each to watch whatever we want. Now, choose a movie. I’ve decided I’m taking a break from being decisive or type A or whatever you want to call it.”

“Yeah right, Mel. That’s not the type of thing you can just switch off.”

“You watch me,” Melanie said with steel in her eyes.

Jessie could well believe it. Only Melanie could be so determined about becoming a relaxed undriven person. She didn’t see the sense in arguing.

“Okay. Why don’t we watch—” Jessie stopped talking. Her attention was drawn away by what she saw on the TV screen.

They had muted the sound, but that didn’t matter. She would have recognized that face anywhere.

“That’s Johnny Cooper’s wife,” she gasped, pointing at the screen.

Jessie leaned forward, grabbing the remote and pressing the unmute button. Hearing the voiceover, she realized it was an advert for a TV appearance that was coming up soon.

“She looks very happy for somebody who’s just been widowed.”

In another situation, Melanie’s blunt assessment might have seemed scathing. But it was so glaringly true that Jessie couldn’t help but agree.

“I don’t like judging other women,” she murmured. “But what on earth is she thinking? Going on TV to promote her new book and lifestyle series when her husband has just passed away?”

“Me neither,” Melanie said. “But you’re right. Haven’t they caught murderers this way? You know, the husband or wife appears on TV looking tearful. Then it comes out that they were the ones responsible.”

That’s the thing
, Jessie thought. At least they pretended. Pamela was making no attempt to feign grief. She wore a gaily-colored dress that emphasized a gym-honed body and a tan that was even deeper than Jessie remembered.

Melanie shrugged. “I guess they’ve caught the killer so there’s no need for her to keep up appearances. Strange, though.”

Jessie shook her head. She had thought the same of the woman the time she’d met her with Chief Daly. And that was before they had caught the murderer. What was her alibi again? She bit her lip. There wasn’t one. The police had moved their focus away from the widow because they couldn’t find a financial motive.

“You want to watch?”

“Yeah,” Jessie whispered. The unsettled feeling was back in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Jessie felt more and more uncomfortable as the interview went on. As the teaser had promised, it was a promotional appearance to discuss the launch of her new lifestyle book.

“Do you think this was all lined up before he was murdered?” Jessie asked.

She couldn’t look away, even though she couldn’t believe what was going on on the screen. This Pamela was a completely different person to the reserved, classy woman they had met. There was none of the coolness she had shown toward them.

She bounced giddily on the couch in the TV studio, giggling every time the interviewer asked her a question. She looked radiant and healthy.

Melanie shook her head. “It’s hard to know. I mean, these things take months if not years to prepare. But they could have postponed the launch, given what happened.”

On screen, the camera focused back on the interviewer, a middle-aged woman in a sensible pantsuit that only highlighted the outrageousness of Pamela’s dress.

“You’ve been through a tough time recently.”

Pamela nodded, the smile slowly fading from her face. “Yes.”

“Would you like to tell us about it?” the interviewer’s voice was soft and gentle, her face screwed up in apology for asking such a delicate question.

Why ask it at all, then?
Jessie wondered.

And then it was as if Pamela’s face sprung a leak. Fat tears streamed down her face, even though her expression hadn’t changed one bit.

Jessie looked at Melanie with morbid fascination.

“Is she faking?” Melanie asked wondrously. “My goodness, if I’d known talk TV was this fascinating, I would have started watching years ago.”

Jessie shook her head. It really did look like the woman was acting. “That’s what it seems like. Wow. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but what is going on?”

Even the interviewer looked a little bemused as she handed Pamela a tissue. The other woman took it and dabbed gently at her eyes.

“Sorry about that,” she whispered softly.

The interviewer reached over and patted her hand. “That’s quite alright,” she said with a bemused expression.

“What is she thinking?” Melanie said, jumping up and rushing to the kitchen. Moments later she returned with a bag of potato chips. “Isn’t she worried people will think she’s a gold digger?”

“Yeah,” Jessie said. “I mean, it’s not like many people will watch at this time. But still. She could have handled that so much better.”

“Yeah, like admitted she killed him for his money.”

Jessie started. “What? No she didn’t—” she stopped herself.

“Can’t talk about it, huh?” Melanie said. “Well, that’s what it looks like to me.”

But it can’t be
, Jessie thought.
The chief saw their financial records. She had access to his money already. She didn’t need to kill him.

“Or maybe it’s not money.”

“What else would it be?” Jessie asked uneasily.

Melanie shrugged. “You’re the hobby sleuth, Jessie. I don’t know. Maybe she’s unhinged—certainly looks that way to me.”

Jessie glanced at the TV screen again. Pamela was beaming at her interviewer as she ran through the benefits of her five-point lifestyle plan.

Her head hurt. She got the feeling again that there was something they were all missing.

* * *

The next day, Jessie chalked her uneasiness down as the workings of an exhausted mind. She was beginning to come up with all sorts of crazy conspiracy theories, probably because the past several months had been stranger than fiction.