Free Voice Mail Murder by Patricia Rockwell

with grim resolve. Jane Marie was speaking to her with agitation, her hand on the woman’s shoulder. As Pamela stared at the twosome, Jane Marie turned back to Laura and Pamela.
    “Rosemary,” she said to the woman, “I’d like you to meet Drs. Delmondo and Barnes from our department.” The two professors smiled and nodded at the forlorn woman who clutched a large purse protectively to her chest. “Rosemary Ellis. Rosemary is . . . was Coach Croft’s secretary. We go way back. Don’t we?” Jane Marie moved down a level to Rosemary and gave her a hug. The coach’s secretary stared over Jane Marie’s shoulder off into space.
    “We’re so sorry,” said Laura to Rosemary. “Jane Marie has been worried about you. How are you doing?”
    “I . . . fine,” said the woman, her blue eyes oblivious of Laura, and then she added something that Pamela didn’t hear.
    “I’m surprised you’re even here,” said Jane Marie, clutching the other woman’s hand protectively. “No one expected you to be here, Rosemary.” Jane Marie spoke softly as possible to her friend, given the incredible noise. Pamela struggled to hear the conversation between the two women but she was two people removed. The women continued their whispered conversation for a few moments, and then hugged farewell, and the Athletic Department secretary turned and continued slowly down the aisle of the bleachers to a seat near the front.
    “You two are friends?” Pamela asked Jane Marie after the woman had moved away.
    “Yes,” replied Jane Marie. “I know most of the administrative assistants from most of the departments fairly well. Rosemary is definitely one of the nicest.”
    “This must all be just horrible for her,” added Laura. “Why would she even be here tonight?”
    “I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” agreed Jane Marie. “I mean, I try to imagine how I’d feel if someone murdered Dr. Marks . . .”
    At that, Mitchell, hearing his name mentioned, leaned over Rocky and called down to her.
    “JM, enough with all the hypothesizing about my demise,” he scowled and his wife nudged him playfully. Jane Marie blushed. A cheerleader atop a pyramid leaped in the air and was caught by a group of four of her compatriots—to massive applause from the crowd. Pamela rubbed her hands together. She noticed that her breath was now visible as she exhaled—definitely fall.
    A hush suddenly fell over the crowd. Pamela noticed a tall man, wearing a long, elegant, black overcoat striding out to the center of the playing field. He was followed by a younger man dressed in a football jacket and cap. The two men stood in the center of the field. It was evident to Pamela that both were wearing lavaliere microphones because the taller, older man (who Pamela knew was Gerard Foster, the school’s President) spoke first.
    “Students,” he intoned. “Students, faculty, staff, parents.“ The crowd became breathlessly still. “Typically, the first home football game is a joyous event here at Grace University. But, this game, as you know, is not typical. Our team—our campus—indeed, our entire community has experienced a horrible tragedy recently that has saddened us deeply.“
    Pamela glanced around. All eyes were on the President and what he might say that would temper the mixture of grief, fear, and curiosity that everyone appeared to be experiencing. The young man in his jacket and cap standing next to the President stood at attention, watching the older man respectfully.
    “Coach Croft was beloved—by his team, by the campus community, by all of Reardon, I’d venture to say. He was a winner—a winning coach, but also a winning personality. He demanded the best and he gave his best. Some of you may wonder why we have decided to go ahead with this game in light of his senseless murder. Believe me, we agonized over this decision, but in the end, after discussing it with the team, the coach’s wife and family, and the Board of