With His Dying Breath

by Nancy Hogue

  “No, I didn’t know him that well. Are you?”

  “Yeah, my dad signed an excuse for me to go. Sammi, Mrs. Brockton, is so nice to me, I feel so sorry for her. You know that she has to deal with all of this. Well, see you later, tomorrow. Sorry I’ll miss your class. Hope you’re not giving a test!” She started her car and once again, he could not take his eyes off her as she disappeared out of sight.

  He cancelled plans for a pop test.

  * * *

  “What did he say he was doing?” Hilda asked the rookie cop that caught the guy lurking around her house.

  “Said his dog got out of the backyard and he was looking for it. Said he lived across the street from you two houses down.”

  “That’s why he looked familiar! About his dog, wasn’t a basset hound, was it?” She said jokingly.

  “No, I don’t think he said. He’s still down there if you want to talk to him.”

  “No. Just verify everything he’s telling you, you know, check his address and check out his story. Ask him who his vet is and call the vet. See if anybody knows him, okay? Find out where he works, just as much as you can. Just want to make sure. I’ll apologize later.”

  “Sure, detective. I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be at Blake Brockton’s funeral, but if you get anything, let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  Hilda needed to put her focus back on the Brockton murder case. I don’t have the time to deal with a peeping tom and we’ll see what this rookie’s got in him.

  ***

  At two o’clock, more than a thousand local residents and dignitaries gathered for the funeral of Blake Brockton. It was standing room only in the sanctuary of the Church of River Town, Georgia. Mourners who could not get in the sanctuary viewed the service on closed circuit television monitors in the fellowship halls. A graduate of Mercer a beneficiary of Blake’s personal scholarship funding provided a moving rendition of “The Lord’s Prayer.” She barely made it through the song before tearfully breaking down. A renowned minister of national acclaim provided the eulogy. Pastors of two local churches of different denominations delivered scriptures and prayers.

  Mourners included JJ and Cain Matthews, the real estate employees, Dr. Christian and her husband Everett and Blake’s sisters. Dr. Early and Patsy, Anne and Austin, Evelyn and Charlie and Jenny sat together. Jess sat on the back row next to a stranger. Special guests sitting in a roped section included Georgia’s two U.S. Senators and three area Representatives, the Governor himself with other State officials, city and county officials throughout the State and Samantha, Mitch, Wilson and Maria. High school employees, students and neighbors. Numerous reporters waited outside.

  Jonas Attaway was among the mourners just not recognized as such. A host of curious onlookers included two ex-wives. Sammi recognized one from old photos she found in Blake’s office. The two women nodded but neither spoke.

  Teenage sons of his business partners served as pallbearers. Outward appearance showed no detail went unnoticed for the funeral service of the county’s wealthiest man.

  The closed graveside service was restricted to friends and a few invitees from his businesses. Bill Fritz, Blake’s business associate and primary personal assistant, planned the lavish church service but Sammi insisted on a closed, simple service for his burial. As she looked around to her true friends, she saw seven people.

  Her own pastor who shepherded a small church near her aunt’s nursing home read the twenty-third Psalm and prayed for comfort for her and these friends in the days ahead. The graveside service was exactly opposite of the garish affair Blake’s associate had arranged except for the beautiful flowers.

  Detectives Marabell and Nelson watched the proceedings from a car around a bend and discussed the morning activities in the home owned by Jonas Attaway.

  “You know, Jasper,” Hilda started. “Jonas Attaway does not exist but someone is going to the extreme to convince us he does.”

  “I know you’re right about that. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking we need to get down to the courthouse and find that deed, see who he bought from and when. That’s the first thing.”

  “And the second?” Jasper watched squirrels chasing each other through the trees.

  “Next, we need to check all the utility companies, see who’s paying the bills, how they’re paid, checking account numbers; you know all that paperwork and deposits they require to get your water and electricity turned on.”

  “Good….what else?”

  “Let’s put a stake out on the house. See who comes and goes at least for a few days. That woman in jail will be released since there’s nothing to hold her on. Let’s put a tail on her and see where she goes.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “You got any ideas?”

  “I’m wondering about those clippings. You know those photos of a Samantha Solomon. What’s that all about? Think Jonas Attaway or the woman with the rose tattoo knew her in high school? Might could get a yearbook and check out photos. See if there was anybody in her school by those names or anybody who looks familiar to us now.”

  “Good, Jasper.”

  “What year you reckon she graduated? She’s what about thirty-one or thirty-two. So let’s see if she graduated at seventeen or eighteen that would be 1997 99, somewhere in there.”

  “I think you’re on to something. Oh, looks like the service is over.”

  “Let’s mosey down and mingle.”

  The detectives reached the group of mourners just as Sammi removed one red rose from the casket spray—the one over Blake’s heart and slipped it into her purse. She asked the funeral home to take the fresh flowers to patients in her aunt’s nursing home and others in the area.

  The family car provided transportation back to the funeral home where restless photographers lingered. She slipped out quietly through the back door with JJ driving her back to the apartment.

  Tragedy tagged along wherever Sammi went, wherever she lived. Now numb to its existence she could not cry. She vowed to wake up from this nightmare. She could cry later.

  Sammi shifted her attention to JJ’s rendition of the events surrounding Mr. Grumman at school and, finally, the fight in the cafeteria.

  JJ continued driving up Cherry Street while they talked. “Sammi, do you know Dr. Christian? She’s the guidance counselor who threw the roll at Dr. Early.”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m getting told lots of stuff and just trying to see what fits into this puzzle and what doesn’t, you know?”

  “How would I know her?”

  “Well, you know Mr. Brockton helped me get the job at the beauty shop, right?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard you thank him for that.”

  “I’ve seen Mr. Brockton coming out of her office several times, and she always seemed to be upset. I was just wondering if you would know why.”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Sammi said. “I know people must have known a different side of him than I did.”

  “Also, Sammi, one other thing, and I hope you don’t think I’m being nosy.”

  “About what?”

  “Sammi, how many times was Mr. Brockton married before you?”

  Tears spewed forth like a geyser. Sammi started crying so hard JJ pulled the car into a vacant lot. “Sammi, I’m so sorry. Sammi.”

  ‘I wasn’t legally married to him. He never divorced his first wife’ were the words JJ finally pieced together through the sobs of this cherished woman.

  The little apartment was dark and lonely when they arrived. JJ had stopped off for a taco salad for them to have more privacy while eating alone. She needed more answers from Sammi and wanted to cheer her up at the same time. Her cell phone rang.

  “Dad, I can’t leave her alone right now….oh, good, okay….thank you.”

  “Sammi, Dad wants you to stay with us. You’ll have your own room and
bathroom.”

  “JJ, that’s so considerate, but really I’ve already made this little place my home. I feel safe here. But, please thank your dad for me.”

  “I will. What did you mean that you’re not or weren’t legally married to Mr. Brockton.”

  “I called his lawyer yesterday to find out about the will, especially the money part. You know I have expenses, my legal bill, this apartment, personal things. I don’t have my own bank account. He wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone, said I should come to his office.”

  “And did you go?”

  “Yes, Mitch drove me down there. It was awful.”

  “The news?”

  “Yes, I’m so glad Wilson met me there. Blake’s attorney told me Blake had changed his will about four months ago. He used a small firm off Northside Drive. He said the firm had notified him last Friday per Blake’s instructions on his death. He does not know the contents of the will saying he does not have a copy. It will be probated later after the administrator is notified. He wanted him to know the new will supersedes any and more specifically the will he had done when we married. He said the attorney had also given him an affidavit from Blake that he, oh gosh, that we weren’t…”

  “Sammi, you weren’t what?”

  “That we weren’t legally married,” she said through tears.

  “You weren’t?”

  “No, he never divorced Wylene.”

  “Oh my! Was Blake just married twice— claimed to be married — to just you and her?” JJ knew the answer but she didn’t know what Sammi knew.

  “Well, I know he married right after Wylene left, but I don’t know her name. Then he said he was briefly married and divorced just before we met. So JJ, I don’t know the answer to that.”

  “Sammi, I’m so sorry you’re going thru all this.”

  “How could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I be more specific when we were getting to know each other?”

  “Because Sammi you don’t expect the worst in people. You’re good and you expect others to be good, too. Did the lawyer say anything else?”

  “Yes He said ‘there was another matter to discuss concerning the funeral expenses. He said the funeral was already paid for by an insurance policy made out to the funeral home. He instructed Bill to make the arrangements.”

  “Bill who?”

  “Bill Fritz, his associate. Maybe you had already left the other night when he came by the jail. He didn’t mention it at the time though so he probably had not been contacted. Anyway, Wilson, you remember meeting him?”

  “Yes, at the jail.”

  “Anyway, Wilson received an overnight letter to restrict me from moving anything from my house, well except for personal clothes, toiletries and things like that, until our marriage was verified. Wylene, his first wife, was at the funeral. Wish I knew how to get in touch with her. I wonder if she knows that she is the happy widow.” Sammi was crying again.

  “Sammi, this is crazy. It just seems like every time I discover something, maybe important, I have a hundred more questions.”

  Sammi smiled that JJ was so intent on helping her. Sammi asked, “Who are you Nancy Drew Matthews?”

  JJ smiled, too. “Sammi, why don’t we go to the house and get your stuff, you know the things that you know you own? I’ll drive you over there tomorrow.”

  “Let me check with Wilson first, okay?”

  “Just let me know. Maybe Chip, who is now my boyfriend…”

  “Chip?”

  “Deputy James.”

  “Well congratulations!”

  “Thank you,” JJ beamed. “Maybe he could go with us, you know in his official capacity.”

  “JJ, what a good idea. Then I can’t be accused of taking anything else. At least I’ll have witnesses!”

  “Exactly!” JJ paused. “Sammi, if you’re sure you don’t want to come to my house, I’m gonna run on home.”

  “Sure,” Sammi said. “Call me and let me know you made it home, okay.”

  “Oh, okay, bye Sammi. You call me if you need anything,” giving her a big sisterly hug.

  She left Sammi’s about eight heading home. As she pulled into her driveway, her phone rang. Another restricted call but she answered anyway after touching the record button.

  “I’m warning you. Stay out of this.” Click.

  “Stay out of what?” She yelled into her phone.

  Chapter 22

  Wednesday, March 21

  JJ arrived at school twenty minutes before the first bell. She hurried to Dr. Jacob’s office to check the progress of her request. Her office door was opened but vacant. Hearing loud voices from the adjacent office, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

  “I mean you better do something… This thing has gotten out of hand….I don’t care what you do, just put a stop to it.” The phone slammed down. It sounded a little like Dr. Early, but she wasn’t sure and she could not see inside the principal’s office. Dr. Jacobs walked up and JJ jumped about a foot off the ground.

  “JJ, you okay?”

  “Yes ma’am. Everything’s just so eerie this morning.”

  “I know. Come on in I have some news for you.”

  “Great, I can stand some good news.”

  Dr. Jacobs invited JJ to sit for a moment as she told her there was good news and bad news.

  “Oh, then give me the bad news first.”

  “Well, you will have to double up on your science next year and take an advanced math course as well.”

  “Well, I expected that. What’s the good news?”

  “You can get the Hope grant, possibly other scholarship money, and you will qualify for entrance into the Flight School if you can get your grades up a little. If you apply for the Bachelor of Business Administration in Flight, you’ll be qualified for an entry-level position with an airline. At least you’ll have the skills to qualify.”

  “Wow. Dr. Jacobs, thank you so much! This has just made my day. Do I have to take any courses in summer school?”

  “No, you don’t have to. But what would you think of having a tutor this summer to push you along a little bit?”

  “I’ll have to talk to my dad, about the money part. How much does a tutor cost?”

  “JJ, there are tutors at the College even tutors at the library who will work for credit hours on their courses. You just have to take a survey when you’re finished. I’ll get you a tutor if you want.”

  “Dr. Jacobs, thank you. Yes, I can do that! Thank you so much.”

  “You’re so welcome, JJ. Glad I could help!”

  JJ floated out of the counselor’s office. Her excitement was short-lived when she bumped into Dr. Early.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Early,” noticing that he smelled funny.

  “Watch where you’re going, young lady!”

  “Yes sir,” wondering what was that smell?

  * * *

  The dirt on Blake’s grave had not yet settled when Madelyn Sommers was discovered dead in the Brockton Real Estate office. Bill Fritz reported the body about seven forty-five. He noticed the file room unlocked while waiting on a brochure to print and found Madelyn face down. The coroner reported her death appeared to be by asphyxiation with no blood and no evidence of a struggle. She was completely clothed, and there were no skin cells under her fingernails. A note found near the body said ‘not in the plan.’

  Police would have preferred this information be kept quiet, but being so upset, he had told the media and other agents in the office before thinking. No one knew exactly what ‘not in the plan’ meant or even if it was left by the murderer. It was this unknown that created a hysterical environment within the River Town community. Blake’s murder, the bomb at the BelRon plant as of today had claimed thirty-one victims and now a woman murdered—the question being asked was “who’s next?”

  Every citizen answered unanimously not me and stayed home with doors locked. Parents would not let their kids out to play or let them ride the school bus. Fear had crippled River Town[i]
.

  Every radio and television talk show host with criminal experts fielded dozens of questions but the most frequent were—Does our town have a serial killer, a terrorist, or just a horrible person on a killing spree? What should we do? What are the police doing about it, anything?

  * * *

  Hilda and Jasper had worked an average of sixteen hours a day on the Blake Brockton murder. With every new discovery, they eventually reached a dead end.

  The subscription to the Saga magazine was a typographical error addressed to Blake and Sammi’s personal post office box. The dog-eared pages had no apparent connection to his murder. Evidently, he enjoyed crime stories. So, Jasper took them back to the Brockton house.

  Blake’s cell phone had no fingerprints on it, not even his own. His Prius had not been located even though an installed GPS location device was a feature of the car. No one had seen it drive away much less the thief who drove it. Not one theatre had a play scheduled by a church group. Not one drama coach knew of a character requiring a bowtie in a senior play. It was a ruse just as Hilda had said.

  Photos from neighbors showed nothing out of the ordinary. Each person assisted the detectives stating Mr. Brockton was a fine man and we need to catch the guilty person. Not one interviewee thought Mrs. Brockton guilty. Be hard to get an unbiased jury in this town if this is the pickings, that’s for sure, Jasper thought hoping this case would not go to trial.

  The BelRon building had exploded due to a bomb activated by remote control. An unidentified caller left the message on an answering machine, which was discovered Monday morning. Voice comparisons showed that voice and Jonas Attaway to be the same caller. It did not match the call placed allegedly by Blake Brockton. The fire department had the fire under investigation to determine how the bomb got into the building.

  Technical investigators examined the public phone at the corner of Second and Cherry but nothing to report.