by K. C. Turner
“Now is not the time for this, my friend. You are under investigation, for killing your wife!”
Standing up, Brandon continued his defense. “Really, Jim? After all these years you don’t trust me? I’ve done the research. I now have personal experience and you’re not gonna let me run with this? For God’s sake, you haven’t even come to my defense by conducting any kind of write up on the investigation at all. Frankly, I’m a little surprised.”
Jim stood in response to Brandon’s aggressiveness and placed his hands in front of him on his desk. “You’re right, I haven’t come to your defense at all. Detective Martinez has already contacted me fishing for information. And in my opinion, as Senior Editor, it is not in your best interest or the interest of the Tribune to even touch pen to paper on your wife’s death. I trust you, Brandon, but you have to trust me as well. There is no comment from SPD on their investigation, only questions. Questions I am not willing to answer short of being legally obligated to do so. So at this point, you need to let this personal vendetta of yours go. End of discussion.”
Brandon wasn’t defeated just yet. “This is hardly a personal vendetta, Jim. I’ve been working on this for a while. You gave me the clearance when I presented you my proposal months ago. You can’t yank this from me now. I need this. I need to work; it’s all I have left. Jim, please...” he asked beggingly.
Sitting back down in his chair, Jim sighed and grabbed his chin, rubbing it while he thought. He placed his hands together and rubbed them slowly. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. Come back to work. Who am I to say what’s best for you or how you should handle all of this. However, I’m still not running the series -”
“But Ji-”
Placing his hand up in a stop motion, Jim continued. “Once the smoke clears, and Detective Martinez is off your ass, I’ll reconsider. That’s final, Brandon.” He looked in his eyes making sure his instructions resonated.
Although not happy, Brandon nodded his head and retreated to his office. Jim sat back and rubbed the stress from the back of his head. Not a minute later he heard a rap on his door. Martinez stood there with a smug grin on his face. The girl from the front desk popped up from behind him.
“Jim, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop him...”
“It’s alright, Miranda. I’ll handle this.”
As she turned to head down the hall Jim looked at Martinez as he sat down. “What do you want, Detective? This is beginning to border harassment.”
Martinez made himself comfortable in a chair on the other side of Jim’s large executive desk and tossed the warrant on top so it slid across the smooth wood finish. Lifting his chin he said, “There’s your warrant, Mr. West. It’s pretty limited and self-explanatory. If you don’t mind, I’ll just sit here and wait while you gather the info I need.” He winked.
Opening up the warrant Jim began to read it. Shaking his head he sighed. “I don’t understand this.”
Martinez rolled his eyes to himself. “I need confirmation that the listed phone number belongs to this newspaper and a list of all individuals who have access to it.”
Brandon came walking into the office with his head down, proofing an article. “Hey, Jim, I got a question for y-” As he looked up he was shocked and then confused. “What’s going on, Jim?”
Standing to greet him, Martinez smiled. “Mr. DeFranco, just the man I wanted to see.”
“Brandon, I think maybe you should go home for the day and let me handle this.”
Before he could respond, Martinez said, “Oh no, I think Mr. DeFranco would have plenty to add to the conversation. Matter of fact, we could just go down to the station and straighten all this out right now.”
“Jim, what is he talking about?” His eyes moved from Jim to Martinez and back to Jim.
“He has a warrant, Brandon.”
“A warrant? For what exactly?”
Jim didn’t take his eyes off of him. They screamed at him to take his advice. “Brandon, please go home and let me handle this.”
Martinez chimed in again. “You know, I also received the autopsy report from Dr. Wexler on the cause of your wife’s death.” He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Unfortunately, I left it at my office. How ‘bout you follow me down there and I can go over that with you as well? Figure all this out.”
Confidence filled Brandon’s chest as he inhaled deeply. “You know what, Detective? Let’s go.”
“Brandon, you don’t know what you’re doing-”
“No, Jim. I know exactly what I am doing. This is bullshit and I’ve had enough!” Pulling his keys from the front pocket of his Khakis he said, “I’ll be back in a while.”
His eyebrows shooting up with excitement and surprise, Martinez followed Brandon out. He turned back to Jim as if he won. “I guess he’ll be back in a while, Mr. West.”
As soon as they were out of earshot, Jim slammed his hands on the desk. “Son of a bitch!”
Sam stood at the entryway of his office with a folder cradled in her arms, flinching at the tone in his voice. “O-kaaay. What did I miss?”
Looking at her with his ice-blue eyes he begged, “Please follow Brandon down to the station. Make sure he doesn’t say or do anything stupid.”
Her jaw dropped as her forehead wrinkled. “What the hell is he going to the station for?”
Jim tilted his head and stretched his neck from side to side. “Detective Martinez was here with a warrant. Also said he had the autopsy report. It’s not looking good, Sam. And Brandon is at his wits end; exactly where Detective Martinez wants him. He set the bait and reeled him right in. Just please go supervise.”
“Of course.” Without hesitation Sam returned to her office, dropped her files on the desk, grabbed her purse, and ran out of the Tribune to try and catch up to them.
She ran up to Brandon’s vehicle and grabbed the handle just before he shut the driver’s side door. Catching her breath she pleaded with him. “Brandon, what are you doing?”
Turning on the ignition, he paused. “Sam, please don’t. I’m taking care of this once and for all.” Looking into her eyes he grabbed the handle from inside. “Please let go.”
She flipped her long black hair behind her shoulder and met his gaze with sincerity. “I’m not trying to stop you, Brandon. But I’m begging you to at least let me come with you. You’re doing exactly what Detective Martinez wants you to do and this can’t end well.”
He placed both hands on the steering wheel and leaned his head against the headrest, sighing and closing his eyes for a moment. Leaning forward he put the car in reverse to back out. “Fine. Get in.”
Martinez was well ahead of them as they pulled out of the Tribune parking lot. Making it to SPD headquarters, they pulled into a visitor parking spot. Sam’s eyelashes blinked from under her bangs. “You know you don’t have to do this.”
Without giving it another thought, Brandon angrily opened his car door and said, “Yes I do.” Slamming it behind him, he sprinted up to the glass doors entering the station with Sam quickly following behind. The lobby being empty, Brandon approached the records window.
There was a lady at the desk a few feet away. When she failed to acknowledge his presence, he knocked on the glass. “Excuse me?”
Her eyes rudely glanced up at him before she turned her gaze back to her computer screen.
He knocked on the window again. “Excuse me? I’m here to see Detective Martinez. He just came in minutes before me.”
Taking her time to finish whatever she was working on, she finally rose out of her seat and came to the window. In a non-urgent manner she replied, “I’m sorry. Can I help you?”
Growing irritated, Brandon kept his composure. “I’m here to see Detective Martinez. He has information about my wife’s death.”
The clerk looked at him over the top of her glasses. “Do you have an appointment?”
Sam stood next to Brandon with her arms crossed, growing more pissed off by the moment. Before he could answer, she
responded, “Yes! He’s expected. Please let him know Mr. DeFranco has arrived.”
Looking crossed, the clerk said, “Sure thing,” and returned to her desk, picking up the phone receiver. Before she could dial a number, Martinez sprung from the heavy steel door leading from the bureau stairs to the lobby.
“Mr. DeFranco, thank you for coming.” He motioned to the clerk and then turned his attention to Brandon and Sam. “Ms. Brown. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”
Sam pursed her bright red lips. “I’m sure you weren’t.”
A tad perturbed, Martinez led Brandon into the interview room. He stopped Sam before entering. “If it’s alright with you, I have some intimate details of the investigation I need to share with Mr. DeFranco alone.”
Without saying a word, she turned to Brandon for guidance.
“Detective, I’m sure nothing you have to say can offend my colleague. I’d rather have her join us, if it’s all the same to you.”
Shrugging his shoulders he thought to himself, Two for one special today. Hot damn! “Alright then.” He motioned Sam to enter and have a seat next to Brandon as he sat in the chair across from them and gently set a file folder on the table. Opening the file he pulled out the autopsy report. “So, I guess we can start with Dr. Wexler’s initial findings.” He spread out a couple documents in front of them. His eyes focused on Brandon as he spoke, gauging his reaction. “It’s been confirmed that your wife was indeed the victim of foul play. She suffered a harsh contusion to the head that knocked her unconscious but the actual cause of death was due to drowning.”
As Brandon read the report, Sam reached over and grabbed his hand in support. Shaking his head he tried to vocalize his amazement. Placing the report back on the table in front of him he responded, “I’m at a loss for words here, Detective. Who would do something like this?”
Relaxing back in his chair, Martinez glanced back and forth between the two of them. “That’s what I was hoping you could help me with.”
Brandon leaned his elbows on the table and began rubbing his forehead with the balls of his fingertips. His hands fell in front of him. “Look, it’s like I told you, Pam didn’t have any enemies. None of this makes sense to me.”
Grinning inside, Martinez made his move. “Okay, maybe this will help.” He reached into the file and pulled out the phone records. “You say on the night she was killed, Mrs. DeFranco sent you a text at around 8:30 PM, said she was going to stay with her sister for a few days?”
“That is correct.”
“Right, so if you look on your phone records, you can obviously see that text.” Pulling out another sheet of paper from his file he continued, “If you’ll notice on Mrs. DeFranco’s phone records, at 7:48 PM, your wife received a text from a number, that appears to be yours, asking her to meet you at your favorite place. Does your favorite place happen to be down at the docks, Mr. DeFranco?”
Shooting Martinez a look of disapproval, Sam quickly interjected. “Don’t answer that Brandon.”
Feeling empowered, Martinez shot back at her. “I’m sorry, Miss Brown, are you here for moral support or did you become a licensed attorney in the past week?”
Brandon appeared to be becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. He shoved the papers across the table. “Alright, what the hell is going on here?”
Sam stood from her seated position, her cheeks growing slightly red. “That’s what I would like to know. Is Brandon being detained or is he free to leave? Brandon, I think it’s time for us to leave.”
Anger took over his confused state. “No, wait a second, here. What are you saying, Detective? That I sent my wife a text asking her to meet me at the docks the night she died?”
Martinez was happy to have his attention. “It certainly appears that way at first glance.” He took hold of the phone record and placed it in front of Brandon pointing as he explained. “The text actually came from this number here. It was sent via a third party application to make the receiver believe it was sent from your phone. Funny thing is, it was sent from a phone that belongs to the Tribune.”
Brandon stood up and began to pace in the small room. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He leaned over the table and looked Martinez straight in his face. “I did not kill my wife!”
Allowing the moment to unfold, Martinez sat back and watched without saying anything. He saw the sweat forming on Brandon’s forehead and Sam’s nervousness forced her to stand in an attempt to calm Brandon down. She begged him, “Please, Brandon, it’s time to go...” As she placed her hand on his forearm he forcefully pushed her away.
“No! Enough of this!” Shutting his eyes he took a deep breath before sitting back down and glancing at the phone records again. “What do you mean, the text was sent from a third party app?”
Excited to explain it to him, Martinez leaned forward. “You see this number here? This is the number that actually sent the text to your wife’s phone. However, an app was downloaded onto that phone that allows the user to call or text any other number in disguise. Meaning, I can use the app right now to call your phone and make it appear to be your wife calling you. Or Sam. Or any other number I choose.”
Pulling out another piece of paper from his arsenal, Martinez said, “You know, not only was your wife murdered, she was pregnant at the time of her death.”
Sinking back into her chair, Sam grabbed her mouth with her hands and muttered, “Oh my God.”
Brandon did a double take. “She was what?”
His face grim, Martinez shook his head affirmatively. “I’m sure you were aware your wife was cheating on you, right? Was it yours or his? Do you even know?”
In fight or flight mode, Brandon chose to fight. “You know, I had no idea Pam was pregnant.” His head shook from side to side and a tear formed in the corner of his eye. “But I knew about Damian Burk. That’s what we were arguing about the night I was bogusly charged with domestic violence. Pam and I were already talking about divorce. That night solidified it. And then when SPD got involved, I made Pam a deal. She would help me with my article series, and I would sign the papers.”
Sam looked at him in terror. “Brandon, what the hell are you saying?”
Feeling ashamed, he explained himself. “Look, Pam and I had not been getting along for a while. I was hurt when I found out about Damian.” He looked at Martinez and stated absolutely, “But it didn’t make me want to kill her.” He paused for a moment. “I had an important article series about local law enforcement.”
Martinez rolled his eyes and curled the corner of his lips.
Brandon stopped and glanced at him. “No offense. It’s just business.” Turning back to his story he said, “I was working on it for months. Jim had everything approved. When SPD got involved in my life, it almost seemed to good to be true. I decided I would wrap up the series with my own personal experience. Pam agreed to help me. Figured she at least owed me that.” He sat back confident in his explanation of the chain of events. He turned his attention back to Martinez. “Hell, you guys already had me pegged as a wife beater, why on earth would I kill her?”
Sam looked up to the ceiling of the small room shaking her head as she defensively placed her arms across her breasts and took a deep breath attempting to hide the worry in her face.
His handsome face stern and filled with doubt, Martinez caught on to her body language, placed his strong forearms onto the table and crossed his fingers together. He starred Brandon down and said, “You know, that’s quite a story there Mr. DeFranco. I’m afraid it just doesn’t wash for me. See, I just delivered a warrant to your editor at the Tribune. Soon I’m going to have the phone records to the number I shared with you. There is no doubt the text your wife received luring her to the docks the night she was killed came from that phone.
“So, either you sent your wife the text from that phone in an attempt to cover it up, or someone else from the Tribune having access to that phone sent it. Again, in an attempt to cover it up
.”
Quickly rising from her seat, Sam spoke up. “Okay Brandon, I really think it’s time for us to go. This is getting ridiculous.”
After eyeing her up and down, Martinez kept his poker face and turned his eyes back to Brandon.
Meeting his gaze with a look of confusion, the wrinkles in Brandon’s forehead began to diminish as the pieces fell into place for him. His squinted eyes turned to Sam and looked up to her, dumbfounded. “It was you.”
Her heart began to pound beneath her firm chest. She grabbed her bag from the back of the chair and swung it around her shoulder. “I said it’s time to go Brandon.” She pushed in her chair and shot her eyes at Martinez defensively. “You’re a real piece of work, Detective.”
Brandon stood up and blocked her from leaving. “You crazy bitch. This whole time it was you.”
Guilt washed over her. “Brandon, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
He began backing her into the corner. “I’m afraid I know exactly what I’m saying. You came up with my alibi. You begged me to go along with you. That wasn’t for my protection.” Poking his finger into her chest, he declared, “It was for your own. Wasn’t it, Sam? For God’s sake, you seduced me on the day of her funeral!”
Standing out of preparation for the fallout, Martinez put his hand on his weapon but he didn’t interfere.
Fear washed over her face as he towered over her. She batted her long, thick lashes at him as she looked up into his fierce eyes. “Brandon, please don’t let him fill your head with this bullshit!”
Without taking his eyes off of her, Brandon stood nose to nose with her and stated confidently, “Detective, I’m sorry I lied to you about my alibi. I’m also sorry I didn’t see this all before. I wasn’t with Sam. I was home alone. I got home that night around seven thirty. Pam was already gone. And then I got her text saying she would be at her sisters. That’s all I know.” The relief permeated from his breath.