Football is Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries) by Kathy Cranston Page A

forty years now—it’s not a crime to carry cash. My client was nowhere near an international border. The only way this could be a crime would be if he’d tried to leave the country. Even then, he wouldn’t have broken United States law.”
    The chief sighed as if all of this was boring to him. “You know as well as I do, Lewis, that we have the right to seize large sums of cash until we can determine their source.”
    “No,” Chad hissed.
    Lewis placed a hand on his arm. “And I’ve told you, Chief,” he said with equal patience. “My client is a professional football player. Surely that in itself justifies the sum.”
    Chief Daly glanced from attorney to client. “Even so. I’ll have to insist on seeing bank records to show where the money came from. Now,” he said cheerfully. “On to your client’s relationship with Johnny Cooper.”
    Chad groaned loudly as if he’d been struck. Jessie leaned forward, intrigued by the pained look on the attorney’s face. Up to that point, he had been calm and composed—now he looked like he was about to crack.
    “What about him?” Chad snapped.
    “Chad,” Lewis said quickly.
    “Go on,” Chief Daly said smoothly.
    “There’s nothing to say.”
    “Mr. Denver!”
    “You were friends. What changed?”
    But this time, Chad’s attorney must have gotten through to him. Because he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
    Nobody said another word for a whole five minutes—it was so awkward that Jessie actually timed it. She was beginning to wonder if she should leave when the door of the interview room opened and Officer Kendall appeared.
    “Chief. A word?”
    Jessie frowned, wondering what was going on. Pete looked more serious than usual, though she knew it could have been a ruse to unnerve the suspect.
    A second later, that theory was disproved. Chief Daly looked directly at her, it seemed, and jerked his head toward the door.
    * * *
    The chief held his finger to his lips when Jessie popped her head out the door. She nodded and followed him and Officer Kendall back out through the lobby and round to the chief’s office. Jessie took a seat and turned around to watch as the chief closed the door behind them.
    “What is it, Pete?”
    They have such a strong connection from working together all these years, Jessie thought, watching the wordless look that passed between the two officers. Pete hadn’t had to do more than pop his head around the door in order for the chief to halt the interview and pull them out. She wondered what it was—Chad hadn’t exactly revealed much in his interview. Nothing that Jessie had noticed, at least.
    Pete sat down beside Jessie. She noticed for the first time that he was carrying a folder. Without saying a word, he slid it across the desk. Chief Daly flipped it open. It looked like there was a single sheet of paper inside.
    Jessie leaned forward, but she couldn’t see what was written on it. The chief’s eyes skimmed over the page. After a few moments, he looked up at them both.
    “This changes things.” He passed the file over to Jessie.
    She took it and looked through it. At first it didn’t make much sense to her—she was more comfortable with documents and legal terms than she was with figures. Her eyes moved across the page, connecting the dots.
    Chad’s name was printed in the top left corner. It looked like a list of eyewateringly high numbers. Her first conclusion was that this guy had a lot of money at his disposal. Then she saw it. There were two columns, each brimming with five, six and seven figure numbers. Now she realized—the serious numbers featured in the left-hand column. It wasn’t balanced at all.
    “The left side is debit,” Pete said. “I just got it from the forensic accounting team minutes ago. The man is teetering on the brink. And that’s putting it mildly. The accounting technician said he’s never seen such a mess.”
    Jessie shook her head. “I don’t get it. These guys earn big. Plus