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

Football is Murder

A Bee’s Bakehouse Cozy Mystery

by Kathy Cranston

Copyright © Kathy Cranston 2016

All rights reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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This is the fourth book in the Bee’s Bakehouse Cozy Mystery series. Each mystery can be read as a standalone, but the books are best enjoyed when read in order.

Baking is Murder

Knitting is Murder

Parties are Murder

FOOTBALL IS MURDER

Chapter 1

“That’s the last of it, I think,” Jessie Henderson said, shaking her tired arms and stepping out of her new rental home. She smiled at Mike Stevens, Springdale’s mayor. They’d been dating for the past several months. “Just leave those on the porch—I can sort them out later.”

“I need to run back to the office,” Mike said, dropping two packed boxes beside the front door.

Jessie smiled. “You’ve been such a big help. Come by for dinner if you can and I’ll cook up a big feast to say thank you.”

“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Council business that won’t wait, unfortunately. Raincheck?”

She watched him rush down the steps to his car.

“And you said it would only take a half hour,” Jessie’s aunt muttered, coming out of the house and standing beside her.

Jessie grinned sheepishly. “That was before the mix-up with my move-in date.”

Unfortunately, Jessie only found out
after
she had gleefully accompanied her friend Julia to an auction house in Glenvale. There, she had found a treasure trove of old furniture that was a little faded but could be rejuvenated with a few coats of paint. She’d bought a dining table and chairs and an old brass bed. Even a broken old piano to use as a sideboard once she had spruced it up. They’d stopped off at a home décor store and purchased clocks and canvasses and mirrors.

She had arrived back to Aunt Bee’s cottage to find Candi McShane, Springdale’s premier—and only—realtor, sitting at the table with a coffee cup in her hand and a terrible look on her face.

The owner had had a last minute change of heart and decided that he wanted to personally inspect the house before Jessie’s lease began. Of course, that meant nothing to the auction house, which required purchases to be collected or delivered within two business days.

The next day, a moving truck had rolled up in front of Aunt Bee’s house. They had just about been able to squeeze everything in with Mike’s help. That was over two weeks ago now. Bee and Jessie had spent those weeks tiptoeing past stacks of furniture.

“Yeah,” Jessie said, grabbing the railing and leaning over to stretch her back. “If only Candi had called me before I got trigger happy buying retro furniture.”

Aunt Bee snorted with laughter. “It doesn’t matter, dear. We’re all done now. Only five runs. You’re lucky Mike and Maddie were free to help out. I wouldn’t have been much help to you.”

“But you were,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “You helped unpack. Plus, who else would have screamed at us to keep going? Very motivating.”

Aunt Bee waved her hand dismissively.

“If it wasn’t true before, it definitely is now: I owe you a vacation,” Jessie said, standing up straight and stretching her hands in the air.

But Bee wasn’t listening. Her attention was focused on the huge house across the street. A large black truck had just pulled into the driveway.

Jessie gasped, telling herself not to stare. There was something very familiar about the tall, blond man who climbed out of the truck, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

“You think that’s the guy who bought the place?” she whispered.

Jessie didn’t know why she was whispering—it wasn’t as if he could hear her. The huge house that had belonged to Ron Benetti was set down a driveway the size of Jessie’s whole house.

Bee nodded, still seemingly transfixed by the stranger.

“What is it?” Jessie asked. “You’re in another world.”

“He’s very handsome.”

“What about the chief?” she hissed. As far as Jessie knew, Bee was still dating Springdale’s Chief of Police, Charles Daly.

Bee rolled her eyes and let out a heartrending sigh. “I said he was handsome. I didn’t say I wanted to elope with the man.”

Jessie eased herself down on the bench seat, making a mental note to buy some pillows to make it more comfortable. The image of her aunt eloping with the rugged stranger across the street made her want to laugh. She knew that was a bad idea.

Aunt Bee pursed her lips. “What’s so funny?”

“I said nothing,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes. “Oh look. He’s coming over.”

The man across the street was walking up his driveway. When he had almost reached the street, Jessie waved enthusiastically.

He glanced in her direction and looked away quickly.

“Strange,” she murmured. “He must have seen me. He looked right at me.”

He stopped and leaned over his mailbox. When he turned, Jessie saw that he’d affixed a little sign to the front.

“What do you think it says?”

Aunt Bee shrugged. “Nosy neighbors keep out?”

“I’m not a nosy neighbor. I was just being friendly.”

“I know, dear. I was teasing. It does seem odd. Then again, maybe he wants to keep to himself. Not everybody is civic-minded. There’s no law that says one must be.”

Jessie shrugged. She had moved to Springdale from the city herself. She had to admit, if she hadn’t spent summers there, the small town way of life might have seemed odd to her. She got the same familiar feeling as she watched his retreating back stride back up his driveway.

“I feel like I know him,” she muttered. “Have you heard anything?”

Bee shook her head. “No. You know how Candi is—people think she’s a gossip, but she’s actually very discreet when it comes to her paying clients.”

Jessie nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Candi may have been discreet, but Jessie wished she was as diligent about legal paperwork as she was about her clients’ privacy. And it seemed the same must have happened with Jessie’s new neighbor—it was weeks since Jessie had seen the first moving trucks heading up there.

She stared at the closed door of the mansion. She didn’t imagine she’d find out—Mr. Unfriendly wasn’t likely to accept her invitation for a cup of coffee if he’d point-blank ignored her in the street.

“Well if you haven’t heard anything, I doubt there’s a story there.”

It was true. Bee had been running Bee’s Bakehouse, the café Jessie now co-owned, since Jessie was a child. Very little happened in Springdale that she didn’t know about.

Jessie stood and stretched. It was still bright, but the porch was in the shade and she was starting to get cold. “Come on. Help me unpack some of the kitchen things and I’ll cook us dinner.”

* * *

“How’s the wonderful world of old books?” Jessie asked, smiling as her friend Julia made her way into the café having narrowly avoided being accosted by Jessie’s pug, Toby.

Toby was still a pup, but he was becoming more well-mannered by the day. Except when it came to the people Jessie was closest to—she could always tell when Chief Daly, Julia or Mike was approaching the café because Toby would leap from his doggy basket and jump on them. Luckily, they all loved the little pug almost as much as Jessie did.

Julia smiled as she browsed the displayed of baked goodies on the countertop. “It’s wonderful,” she said at last when she had selected a chocolate cronut. “Honestly, you have no idea how satisfying it is to sell something I’m truly passionate about.”

Jessie grinned as she plated the cronut and grabbed a cup to prepare Julia’s usual coffee. “Actually, I do.”

Jessie had worked at a high-pressured job in insurance before moving to Springdale and investing in her aunt’s café. So she had a good idea how Julia felt about closing up her babywear business and focusing instead on rare and antique books.

“Mmm,” Julia said contentedly.

Jessie was delighted to see her friend so happy. She hurried through the remainder of her tasks so she could sit with Julia for their usual morning catch-up.

* * *

“Have you seen my new neighbor?” Jessie asked as she put a fresh cup of coffee on the table.

She had been so busy that morning that she’d completely forgotten her almost-encounter the day before. She wondered if anyone else in town had been cold-shouldered by him.

Julia shook her head. “No, but I’ve pretty much been living between my store and the auction houses in Glenvale. I don’t think I’d have noticed even if he’d moved into
my
house. Why? What’s he like?”

“I don’t know,” Jessie said, shivering. “I don’t know. I waved to say hi but he completely ignored me. Maybe he was having a bad day or something.”

“Maybe. Strange, though. Why move to a small town if you’re not going to interact with the locals?”

Jessie shrugged. “No idea. Maybe I’ll call over there with some baking.”

“Good idea. If he’s rude again, you should most definitely take him some of your baking. It’s the ultimate punishment.”

Jessie snorted with laughter. She couldn’t deny it, though—as hard as she’d worked to improve her baking skills, she was still a rank amateur. Whenever she tried to mimic Bee’s gorgeous, delicately-flavored and colored cupcake frosting, it turned a vile shade of green that tasted as bad as it looked.

Her savory cooking skills, on the other hand, were going from strength to strength. There was now a whole crew of regulars from the office blocks around the corner who came in each afternoon for Jessie’s lunch specials.

Jessie sighed as Julia’s teenage daughter cleared the table beside theirs with her usual efficiency. “I can’t believe Tania is heading off to college soon.”

“You’re telling me,” Julia said, shaking her head. “It seems like only days ago when I was able to hold her with one arm. Now she’s practically a grown up. She just seems so young. But she’s a smart girl—it’s good that she’s heading out into the world. Remind me of that when she leaves, will you?”

Jessie nodded. “She’s responsible.” Jessie would miss Tania, not to mention the fact that they’d need to hire another part-timer to replace her.

Chapter 2

Jessie wandered through her new house, making sure the windows were fastened shut and the doors were locked. She hadn’t lived alone for months now. She would never have admitted it, but she felt a little nervous about the idea, especially as it was a detached house and not an apartment.

Toby trotted around after her. They’d only been in the house one night, but already he was starting to strut around like the lord of the manor. It was too bad that his confidence wasn’t mirrored in his physical strength. Even when he jumped up on her, he barely reached her knees. He wasn’t exactly going to fend off any would-be intruders.

Despite her skittishness, Jessie felt a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. Since she arrived back from the café, she had spent the whole evening sanding and painting her new furniture. She was utterly exhausted after that and the previous day’s move.

She sank down on the couch. It was still covered in its original chintzy fabric, but she had vacuumed and steamed it carefully so it looked as good as new. She’d get around to reupholstering it just as soon as she was done with the rest of the furniture. She sighed and cuddled Toby tighter. It felt good to be in her own place. There was a little spare bedroom where she could work on her sculpture—she had started off by using the storage shed out the back of the café, but soon been discouraged when she realized how drafty it was. Now she had everything she needed—her own modest bedroom, a kitchen of her very own, and the small second bedroom she planned to turn into a combined office and craft room.

It was perfect.

Jessie’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Toby wasn’t helping—his rhythmic sleeping breath was lulling her into a trance. She told herself to get up and get ready for bed, but instead she lay back and gave in to the urge to close her heavy eyelids for just a moment.

* * *

Jessie bolted upright and looked around. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it straight away. She glanced around groggily. Then Toby barked and she knew she’d been woken by his barking. She looked around the room and saw him standing under the window, yapping insistently.

Light was streaming through her living room window, but it was a strange bluish light. Artificial. She didn’t understand at first. She’d only closed her eyes for a moment and it was bright then. Now it was dark—or it would have been if it wasn’t for those lights.