Read Online Football is Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries) by Kathy Cranston - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathy Cranston
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covered the walls and ceiling.
His office was the same—underneath the rows and rows of framed photographs and pictures. There was no consistency in their contents: abstract prints sat beside old masters, which cozied up to images of Marvin Scott with various suited men. Among them were Chief Carston of the Rockfield PD and Coach Williams from the Ravens.
“You know Coach Williams well?” she asked, pointing at the photograph that showed them standing in front of an ancient-looking crest.
Marvin shook his head. “I know a lot of people,” he said, before breaking out into a wide smile.
Sure enough, right above it there was a larger picture of Marvin with the governor, both in white tie. And beside a Van Gogh print, she saw a black-framed photo of Marvin with Freddie Lindemann.
“There’s a face you might recognize,” Marvin murmured, leaving his desk and coming to stand beside her.
Jessie followed his gaze and her eyes widened. She was about to remark on the photograph of him with Mike Stevens, but she stopped herself. Jessie shook her head.
“Springdale’s mayor,” she said neutrally.
Marvin turned to her with a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I believe he’s a lot more than that.”
Jessie just stared at him.
“You seem surprised,” he said, twirling around and returning to the comfortable chair behind his desk. “But it’s my job to know things about people.”
Jessie tried to shake off the sense of unease that had washed over her. Sure, Mike was a public figure. But why was it public knowledge in a town thirty miles away? She reminded herself that there was a reason for her visit—and that Marvin had given her the perfect lead-in.
“Speaking of your knowledge of people: what’s your take on the Cooper murder?” she asked, settling into her chair.
He smiled. “Much the same as your own, I imagine.” Seeing her confused expression, he waved his hand and grinned in a way that warmed her to him. “Sorry. I spend most of my time sounding as enigmatic as possible. You wouldn’t believe how much it helps to sell papers. See? There I go again. What I mean is, it’s an open and shut case.”
“It is?” Jessie asked, looking around again. For her it seemed like the opposite—there wasn’t exactly a swathe of evidence pointing them in the right direction. Was there something he knew that she didn’t?
He nodded. “Of course. Things like these are always the same. It’ll be the greedy wife or a deranged acquaintance who couldn’t understand why the victim wouldn’t give him more cash. I’m willing to put money on it.”
Jessie laughed.
Marvin’s eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve seen it time and time again in my career. Are you willing to bet me?”
“Um… I’m not much of a gambler,” Jessie said, shaking her head. Plus, she thought but didn’t say, the idea of gambling on the cause of somebody’s death creeped her out so much that she actually fidgeted in her seat. She sighed. “I thought you might have some insight into the team.”
He stared at her. “Insight?”
“You know,” Jessie said, shrugging. “Is there a rivalry there that the cops haven’t seen? Or a reason the victim might have become a target for his teammates? Like did he screw up some games for them or not make the plays he should have?”
Jessie and the chief had spent hours trying to figure out the game by reading newspaper articles and game stats. But it was impossible to find any subtleties when they were approaching it as outsiders.
Marvin’s eyes widened and for a moment Jessie thought she might have hit on something significant. But then he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know what you’re getting at, but I’ve been following this team for years, even before they relocated to Rockfield. They’re a good bunch of guys and there’s been no change in Johnny Cooper’s performance—certainly not one that’s extreme enough for somebody to want to kill him.”
* * *
“Here she
His office was the same—underneath the rows and rows of framed photographs and pictures. There was no consistency in their contents: abstract prints sat beside old masters, which cozied up to images of Marvin Scott with various suited men. Among them were Chief Carston of the Rockfield PD and Coach Williams from the Ravens.
“You know Coach Williams well?” she asked, pointing at the photograph that showed them standing in front of an ancient-looking crest.
Marvin shook his head. “I know a lot of people,” he said, before breaking out into a wide smile.
Sure enough, right above it there was a larger picture of Marvin with the governor, both in white tie. And beside a Van Gogh print, she saw a black-framed photo of Marvin with Freddie Lindemann.
“There’s a face you might recognize,” Marvin murmured, leaving his desk and coming to stand beside her.
Jessie followed his gaze and her eyes widened. She was about to remark on the photograph of him with Mike Stevens, but she stopped herself. Jessie shook her head.
“Springdale’s mayor,” she said neutrally.
Marvin turned to her with a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I believe he’s a lot more than that.”
Jessie just stared at him.
“You seem surprised,” he said, twirling around and returning to the comfortable chair behind his desk. “But it’s my job to know things about people.”
Jessie tried to shake off the sense of unease that had washed over her. Sure, Mike was a public figure. But why was it public knowledge in a town thirty miles away? She reminded herself that there was a reason for her visit—and that Marvin had given her the perfect lead-in.
“Speaking of your knowledge of people: what’s your take on the Cooper murder?” she asked, settling into her chair.
He smiled. “Much the same as your own, I imagine.” Seeing her confused expression, he waved his hand and grinned in a way that warmed her to him. “Sorry. I spend most of my time sounding as enigmatic as possible. You wouldn’t believe how much it helps to sell papers. See? There I go again. What I mean is, it’s an open and shut case.”
“It is?” Jessie asked, looking around again. For her it seemed like the opposite—there wasn’t exactly a swathe of evidence pointing them in the right direction. Was there something he knew that she didn’t?
He nodded. “Of course. Things like these are always the same. It’ll be the greedy wife or a deranged acquaintance who couldn’t understand why the victim wouldn’t give him more cash. I’m willing to put money on it.”
Jessie laughed.
Marvin’s eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve seen it time and time again in my career. Are you willing to bet me?”
“Um… I’m not much of a gambler,” Jessie said, shaking her head. Plus, she thought but didn’t say, the idea of gambling on the cause of somebody’s death creeped her out so much that she actually fidgeted in her seat. She sighed. “I thought you might have some insight into the team.”
He stared at her. “Insight?”
“You know,” Jessie said, shrugging. “Is there a rivalry there that the cops haven’t seen? Or a reason the victim might have become a target for his teammates? Like did he screw up some games for them or not make the plays he should have?”
Jessie and the chief had spent hours trying to figure out the game by reading newspaper articles and game stats. But it was impossible to find any subtleties when they were approaching it as outsiders.
Marvin’s eyes widened and for a moment Jessie thought she might have hit on something significant. But then he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know what you’re getting at, but I’ve been following this team for years, even before they relocated to Rockfield. They’re a good bunch of guys and there’s been no change in Johnny Cooper’s performance—certainly not one that’s extreme enough for somebody to want to kill him.”
* * *
“Here she
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