Football is Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries) (11 page)

She had an idea of how to solve that. Aunt Bee hadn’t been on a vacation in many years. Jessie knew her aunt would dearly love to take a cruise ship vacation. The only clutter to be found in her neat home was flyers and brochures for cruise ship companies. Jessie also knew her aunt would never just go ahead and book a vacation, especially not one where she’d be at sea for several days cut off from the café.

Aunt Bee had been running Bee’s Bakehouse for more than twenty years. It was her life. Jessie glanced at Tania, who was cleaning out the drip tray from the coffee machine. They were alone in the kitchen as Aunt Bee had coffee with Melanie out in the café. Jessie realized this was her opportunity to float an idea she’d been thinking of for weeks.

“Hey, Tania,” she said as casually as she could.

It didn’t work, judging from the girl’s alarmed expression. “Yeah, Jessie?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to work late. No, I have a proposition.”

“Still not putting my mind at ease,” Tania drawled.

“How would you like to earn some extra money before you go to college?”

“Depends on what I’d need to do.”

Jessie folded the dishtowel she’d been using. “How would you feel about looking after this place for a week or so? I’d like to take my aunt on a cruise, but I know she’ll only go if there’s somebody we trust looking after the place.”

Tania dropped the drip tray and stared at Jessie. “Really? You’d trust me to look after this place?”

Jessie smiled and nodded. “Of course. You’ve worked here for a couple years now. You know everything there is to know about the day-to-day running of this place. We’ll take somebody on to help out. We’ll need to do that anyway when you go away to college.”

Tania shook her head.

“You don’t want to?”

“No. No, Jessie, I’d love to. I’m just amazed you asked me is all.”

“Great,” Jessie whispered. “Now, don’t say a word to my aunt. I want to surprise her with this.”

Tania nodded. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she grinned.

* * *

Jessie set about cleaning down the front of the counter, taking advantage of the lull in activity. The craft group was due in for their monthly coffee morning and Jessie liked to have the place spotless for them. They were the type of customers who’d notice the slightest smear on the glass display or a grain dust gathered in the corner. They were like an unpaid quality control unit—even though it had taken her some time to get used to their ways.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Toby fly out of his doggy bed. Jessie smiled. He only did that when one of her good friends was approaching. Sure enough, she saw Chief Daly bend to pet her little pug a couple seconds later.

“Morning, Chief,” she called when he entered the café several minutes later.

Jessie frowned. She hadn’t noticed anything wrong when she saw him through the window, but up close his face looked ashen.

“Chief, what’s wrong?” she asked, abandoning what she was doing and rushing to the counter. “Let me grab you a coffee.”

Chief Daly shook his head and attempted a smile, which faltered on his lip seconds later. “Our guy finally talked.”

“Oh,” Jessie said, tapping ground coffee into the filter. “What did he say?”

The chief sighed and rested his elbow on the counter. “He said we can go ahead and lock him up.”

Jessie stopped what she was doing. For some reason, she’d expected to hear he had finally declared his innocence. “That’s great. Case closed then, right?”

The chief clicked his tongue. “I wish I felt so sure.”

“But if he’s admitted it…?” Jessie raised an eyebrow. This was the first she knew of the chief’s doubts about the case. She had thought she was being paranoid.

“That’s the thing, Jessie. He’s admitted nothing. He refused to speak a word. Then he snaps this out. It could be that he has nothing more to say; that he’s guilty.”

“But you don’t think that’s what it is?”

Chief Daly seemed to consider this. “I don’t know what I think, Jessie. All I know is Rockfield PD is happy. The Ravens are happy they can draw a line under this. It’s just…”

“All too neatly wrapped for your liking?” Jessie guessed.

The chief’s eyes widened. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, yes,” he said quietly. “How on earth did you know that?”

Jessie shrugged. “I suppose it must be because I feel the same way. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We’ll need to be careful with this,” he said. “It was all well and good when we were assisting Rockfield PD. Going behind their backs and unofficially reopening their investigation is a different matter entirely.”

“What do you think is going on, Chief? You don’t think he did it?”

The chief bit his lip. “I’m not sure what to think. All I know is something’s not right. We’ve got a guy who’s willing to go to jail without a word. That’s not normal. Especially not for somebody who’s used to being in the public eye. Now, I haven’t met a lot of folk like that, but those I have met? Even if they haven’t cooperated with us, they’ve done everything they could to get in the papers. This guy? Nothing. Now, we know he called in the journalists, but so far nothing’s appeared. So it may have been a bluff.”

Jessie held up her hand. “Wait a minute. He’s been talking to the media?”

“Seems that way,” Chief Daly shrugged. “I was over in Rockfield station when he got a visit from one Marvin Scott, the editor of the Rockfield Reporter.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed and a chill ran up her spine. She leaned over the counter to be sure she couldn’t be overheard, even though the café was almost empty. Something about this whole thing was rattling her, and she couldn’t tell what.

“It seems to me that there are a lot of strange things happening on the edges of this case. Did you see Today TV?”

He stared at her like she was crazy. “Not my cup of tea, I’m afraid.”

“No, Chief, I didn’t think so. But Pamela Rivers appeared as a guest last night. Mel and I watched it together. And I swear when they asked her about her husband her tears were worthy of an Oscar.”

“What’s her motive? We know it’s not financial.”

Jessie sighed. “I don’t know. That’s the thing. It could just be that she has a strange way of dealing with things.”

“Could be. All the same, something fishy’s going on. I’ve been keeping an eye on the Rockfield Reporter. There’s been no mention of Chad’s side of the story. How do you feel about visiting Marvin Scott again?”

Jessie nodded. “Sure, I can do that. I was expecting a pompous man from the signage and the big fancy building, but he’s a really nice guy underneath all of the flashiness.”

“Great. I’ll dig back through the police file and see if there’s anything we missed.”

Chapter 13

Jessie parked her aunt’s Camry, making a mental note to go find a car of her own soon. It wasn’t like she needed it that often, but at times like this it would have been more convenient.

Maybe Mike can help,
she thought.

She would have bought one by now if it wasn’t for the fact that she disliked car dealerships almost as much as she disliked medical exams.

Jessie locked the car and grabbed her purse. She crossed the street to the Rockfield Reporter office.

I bet this guy has no issues with salespeople, auto or otherwise,
she thought, looking up at the formidable building before she pushed the buzzer.

“Hi, it’s Jessie Henderson. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, not at all, Jessie. Come on up.”

Jessie listened hard. She didn’t know why, but she was looking for any hint of stress in his voice. She’d been thinking about it on the way over. It just didn’t make sense. Had the team intimidated him in some way so that he’d bury his story? He didn’t seem like the type of man who could be easily threatened.

The door slipped open and Jessie entered with a shiver. She felt like the truth was so close she could almost reach out and touch it, but every time she tried it just disappeared, like a mirage.

“What can I do for you, Jessie?” he asked when she had reached the top of the stairs. Once again, he was waiting for her just outside the door of his office.

Jessie cleared her throat. She was still struggling to think of a plausible excuse for visiting him. She smiled, wishing she’d been an actress instead of an insurance bureaucrat.

“Can we talk in your office?”

He seemed amused by this. “This whole building is my office,” he said, sweeping his arms around.

Jessie hadn’t known that. She looked around, wondering again how a paper like the Rockfield Reporter could afford a base in a historic building right in the center of town. The Springdale Chronicle, on the other hand, was crammed into a first-floor office in a ramshackle building it shared with a dental studio.

He pointed toward his office. “Lead the way.”

Jessie walked through. It was as tidy as before. She swept around the room with her eyes, noticing a painting she hadn’t seen before.

“Do you often change your artwork?” she asked as he closed the door.

“Artwork?” he said, as if hearing the word for the first time. “No. No, what gave you that impression? Those are cheap prints. I couldn’t name most of them.”

Jessie shrugged, looking around. She pointed at the painting. “That looks new, is all.” She tried to remember what had been there before.

He followed her gaze. “Oh, that? No, it’s been here for years.”

Jessie smiled and sat down. “Shows how much I know about these things.”

He waved a hand. “I never did go in for that art business myself,” he said.

Jessie was immediately reminded of Pamela Rivers and her extensive personal collection of valuable works. That in turn reminded her of the purpose of her visit.

“This might sound crazy,” she said, immediately doubting the believability of the ruse she had just concocted. “But I’ve been thinking about writing a book.”

“A book,” he repeated, stroking his chin.

She nodded. “Yes. It’s just that this Cooper case has fascinated all of Springdale. All of Rockfield too, I’d imagine?”

He shrugged. “These things always do linger on in the public consciousness. Unfortunately.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It makes people live in fear,” he said simply. “It’s not good for society.”

Jessie nodded. She couldn’t disagree with that after her own fear of her neighbor. In a flash of insight, she realized that was something she could use to make her story seem more plausible.

“I know exactly how that feels,” she sighed, hoping she wasn’t overdoing it. “Did I tell you that Chad Denver lives across the street from me? Or used to anyway.”

His expression was impassive. “No, I don’t believe you did.”

She shrugged. “I guess I was embarrassed about feeling afraid. But it wouldn’t take a psychologist to see why I’ve got such an interest in this particular case.”

He steepled his fingers. “I suppose not. How can I help you?”

Jessie smiled. “I think you know. I’ve been following the case, but I don’t have the same access to information as you do. I’ve already asked Ken Dobbs for help, but you know how far his interest in sports extends.”

“I do indeed,” he sighed. “Though I must say, it means that there’s less competition for my paper when it comes to sports fans.”

“I suppose what I really want to know is, what’s the angle here? Why do you think Chad Denver killed Johnny Cooper? Or are you even convinced that’s what happened?”

Marvin’s face faltered for the briefest moment. “Whatever do you mean?”

Jessie shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m hoping you’ve got some insights, being an expert and all.”

He stared at her as if she’d just slapped him.

Jessie cleared her throat. “I meant no offense,” she said quietly, wondering what she’d said to elicit such a response from somebody who up to that point had been confident and charming.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Jessie. I didn’t mean to come across as defensive. The truth is, you probably know more about this case than I do. In fact, if you want the details of the case, you’re better off speaking to Ken Dobbs at the Chronicle. I’ve been covering it, but he’s a much better crime reporter than I am.”

“What about the Ravens?” she asked. “Have you ever noticed anything odd about them?”

“When you say odd…?”

“It’s like I said before,” Jessie said, thinking fast to try and rephrase her question. “Could there be a motive that’s not obvious to a layman? Can you think of a reason that Chad—or somebody else—might have killed Johnny? Not money. Something else.”

He appeared to think about it for a few moments. Then he shook his head. “Sorry, Jessie. When I said football was an intriguing sport, I didn’t mean what you seem to think I meant. Sure, there are rivalries and cliques. I didn’t mean to suggest that there are secretive murderous factions in the football world. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

* * *

Jessie’s phone buzzed just as she was climbing back into the car. She fumbled in her purse and pulled it out, grinning when she saw the chief’s name on the screen.

“Great timing,” she laughed.

“Anything?”

She glanced up at the Rockfield Reporter office building and suddenly shivered. “Hold on a moment,” she said, putting the car into drive. She moved around the block with her phone on her lap.

“Jessie? You still there?”

“Yeah,” she said when she had parked. “Just wanted to move the car.”

“How did it go?”

Jessie sighed. “I didn’t ask him about the visit directly.”

“Did he volunteer that information?”

“No,” she whispered, watching a small cluster of tourists emerge from a restaurant up the street.

“Interesting,” Chief Daly said slowly. “Very interesting. You’re still in Rockfield?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But all of a sudden I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

“Did something happen?” the chief asked sharply.

Jessie shook her head. It was a warm, sunny day. All around her, people roamed the streets with children and puppies and ice-creams. It couldn’t have been more innocuous if the streets were filled with cotton candy—so why did she feel so uneasy?