Rough Trade

on the other side of Lake Drive. It probably belonged to one of the more tenacious reporters, but there was nothing I could do about it.
    Chrissy was so devastated by grief that even the simple act of retrieving her house key from her purse was beyond her. I had to root through her shoulder bag until I found the ring and then fumbled in the dark until I was finally able to unlock the door. Groping for the light switch, I led her inside and steered her into the rocking chair while I quickly made my way through the house drawing curtains and closing blinds against the intrusions of the outside world.
    By the time I got back to the kitchen she was crying—a good sign. I took her upstairs and helped her get undressed and into bed as if she was an invalid. I went into the bathroom and found the envelope of sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet, intending to offer her one.
    We had only the smallest window of relative calm before the news broke of Jeff’s death. She needed to get whatever rest she could, but when I returned to her bedroom she was already asleep. I was glad. As bad as today had been, tomorrow was going to be worse.
    Elliott Abelman arrived within an hour of my call. I had never been so happy to see anyone in my life. I hugged him as soon as he was through the door, lingering longer in his arms than I ought to have, grateful for the momentary respite from the horrors of the day. I’d put on a pot of coffee while I waited for him, and I poured him out a cup. We sat and drank it at the kitchen table while I filled him in on that night’s events, especially what I’d learned about Fredericks.
    “So I take it you think the whole thing was a setup?”
    “Absolutely. Somebody made a deal with Fredericks. Shoot Jeff and you can come back and play in the NFL.”
    “If that’s really the case, then it limits the suspects to people who could credibly make the offer. So who does that leave us?”
    “Harald Feiss. He’s a minority owner of the team, and he called the shots with Beau while he was alive. With Jeff out of the way I’m sure he’s convinced he’ll be able to get Chrissy to do what he wants. The coach could also make a credible contract offer, though I’m not sure why he’d want to. I don’t really know who else. It’s got to be Feiss.”
    “What about Jeff?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Do you think he could have engineered the whole thing himself?”
    “That’s absurd. Why would he want to do such a thing?”
    “You said yourself he was in financial trouble. Maybe he took out a big fat life insurance policy and then arranged to have himself killed.”
    “I don’t think so,” I replied. “If Jeff was really desperate to get out from under financially, all he had to do was agree to move the team to L.A.”
    “What if it wasn’t the money?”
    “You mean what if he murdered his father.”
    “Exactly.”
    “In that case I’d expect to find him with a gunshot wound to the head and a suicide note, not wrestling with an intruder in his father’s house. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense.”
    “What about Chrissy?”
    “Chrissy? You can’t be serious.”
    “Come on. With her husband out of the way she owns the team. Not only that, but word around the campfire was that she was cheating on her husband.”
    “I know that’s what the cops think,” I said, “but I don’t buy it. They showed up at the hospital and flat out accused Chrissy of having an affair with Jack McWhorter.”
    “And?”
    “She categorically denied it.”
    “And it doesn’t bother you that McWhorter also flew back to Milwaukee on Saturday night?”
    “I heard there was a fire in one of the concession kitchens at the stadium.”
    “He could have had it set.”
    “You’ve been watching too many cop shows on TV. If he’d wanted to come back to Milwaukee, there were ten different excuses he could have come up with, none of which involved arson. Besides, I told you, Chrissy denies having an affair with Jack.”
    “And naturally you believe her.”
    “Listen. Chrissy is not an angel. We are talking about a girl who used to get around. I mean really get around. But the operative term is used to. She could have had any one of a dozen rich millionaires who wanted her for a trophy wife. She married Jeff because she loved him.”
    “Yeah, but did she decide to have him killed when she found out he didn’t have any more money?”
     
    Coach Bennato arrived practically at first light. He showed up at