Read Football is Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries) for Free Online

tears.
    “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “It’s the only thing that keeps my mind off this… business.”
    Chief Daly nodded with his trademark understanding. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Cooper. People react in different ways. We’re not here to judge you. We’re here to find out what happened to your husband.”
    The other woman bristled as she led them into a vast formal sitting room. “Please,” she hissed. “It’s Ms. Rivers. Or Pamela. I’ve told your people that several times on the now.”
    * * *
    Jessie stood at the back of the room as Chief Daly quietly spoke to the woman. She had sat beside them initially, but then she had begun to feel awkward, especially after Pamela pointedly asked her about her role in Rockfield PD. Chief Daly had patiently explained that she was assisting him, but that didn’t make the feeling go away. The other woman had just lost her husband—Jessie didn’t want to make the situation more awkward or distressing for her than it already was.
    So she tried to focus her attention on the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf behind her, but her eyes kept being pulled around the room. Like the hallway, this room was lined with paintings. It was truly spectacular.
    “That’s a Willows,” Pamela said proudly.
    Jessie tried not to grimace. She was doing the best she could to blend into the background, but the other woman seemed to sense whenever her eyes landed on a thing of beauty. And there were so many of those in the room that it was impossible to ignore them.
    Pamela laughed, a tinkling carefree sound that seemed to echo around the room. “Oh, you don’t have to be like that. Honestly. I used to work in a gallery before I shacked up with Johnny. You know how many of his player friends had an eye for a beautiful piece?”
    Jessie stared. The woman appeared to be waiting for her to answer. Jessie shrugged.
    “Oh come on,” Pamela went on. “Guess. If you said one you’d be over-estimating.” She sat back in her immaculately restored Bergere chair and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s a pleasure to spend time with somebody who appreciates my little collection.”
    Chief Daly cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ladies. But I’m sure you’ll understand the urgency of this. How about you discuss your figurines after we’re done?”
    Jessie sent him a silent plea with her eyes. She didn’t know what she could do to avoid drawing the other woman’s attention—short of standing in the corner with her eyes closed. And that would no doubt pique her curiosity even more. The chief patted Pamela’s shoulder. The other woman wrung her hands, face screwed up with emotion.
    “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “You must think I’m so cold-hearted. It’s just…” she fell silent and shook her head. “Johnny. He was my life.”
    “It’s okay.”
    “No, it’s not okay.”
    Chief Daly murmured something to her that Jessie couldn’t hear. She paced across the room to the mantelpiece, hoping Pamela wouldn’t react again. Rather than artwork, the marble ledge was crowded with framed photographs.
    Jessie glanced around. In almost all of the images, she recognized tall, blond Johnny. The only picture Ms. Rivers appeared in was the wedding photo in the center. Jessie bit her lip and checked the pictures again. It was just as she had first thought—Pamela didn’t appear in any of them. She was running out of photographs to stare at when the one on the far right caught her eye.
    She gasped and leaned forward to get a better look. It was an old picture. Hazy. And yet the resemblance was unmistakable.
    “Is this…” she started and then stopped. Wasn’t she trying not to draw attention to herself? But this was different to some exclusive piece of art that had nothing to do with the case.
    “Isn’t this Chad Denver?” she asked, louder this time.
    She turned just in time to see the look that flashed across the chief’s face. She eyed him significantly.
    Pamela nodded. “Yes. It