With His Dying Breath

by Nancy Hogue

  “Oh I know, kinda like me and Sammi.”

  “Exactly.”

  * * *

  Sammi was heartbroken. Someone murdered her Aunt Pat and killed her own spirit at the same time. She felt intense physical pain.

  “I just don’t understand how someone can just come down the hall and walk into her room and pull a plastic bag over her head and watch her die. I just can’t grasp that,” she said to Cain.

  “Me either, Sammi, but they’re reviewing the tapes now. Let’s go down and see if we can identify the person.”

  “Cain, you go. I want to stay here with her until the ambulance comes. I just can’t leave her alone.”

  “Okay. I’ll close the door so you can be alone.

  “Thank you, Cain.”

  The woman on the tape was tall and rather heavyset. She wore a blazer type jacket and pants and orthopedic shoes. Her face was not visible. Her hair was medium length with a bad haircut.

  One staff person did remember the woman who signed in under the name of Mrs. Jonas Attaway. “I walked in the room to give Mrs. Solomon her meds and the woman was sitting in there with her you know like she was waiting for her to wake up. She spoke to me and commented on how peaceful Mrs. Solomon looked.”

  “Yes, go on,” the detective said.

  “Well, I woke her up for her meds. That was at five thirty. She sat up, and saw the woman sitting there, took her meds and just went back to sleep. So, I don’t think Mrs. Solomon recognized her. She didn’t speak to her.”

  “Did the woman say anything?”

  “No she didn’t, just kinda shifted her feet so I could get to the bed easier. But I just didn’t suspect anything and I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know her life was in danger.”

  “We didn’t either. Thank you ma’am.”

  Sammi cried as the coroner released the body to the crime lab technicians. They removed her aunt from the room and rolled her into the ambulance for the ride to Atlanta for an autopsy. She slowly walked back to the room and began packing up her things. Sammi reached for a homemade afghan tossed on the floor, and a piece of paper fell down face up. It read “one to go.” She called for a nurse to get the detective quickly.

  Everyone knew another person would die. They just did not know who, when, where, how, or why.

  Chapter 26

  There was no sound from a radio or television and no conversation around the kitchen table as Mrs. Young, JJ and Chip ate their chicken sandwiches. The solemn countenance on each face manifested sadness, anxiety, and concern for Sammi and the community.

  JJ spoke first. “Well, surely the police will know Sammi did not kill her aunt and that the same person is out there killing everyone else.”

  “Maybe they will drop charges against her,” Mrs. Young said.

  “I wish they would but I don’t think they will. Not because of her aunt anyway. I just hope Sammi doesn’t become a suspect in this, too,” Chip added.

  “Chip, why would she?” JJ couldn’t bear that thought.

  “Well, we don’t have another suspect. You know, I mean we as in law enforcement.”

  “Sammi will be questioned along with others, I’m sure. The detectives will ask about alibis and motive. They’ll look for a big insurance policy. That kind of thing.”

  “Mrs. Young, did you know her?” JJ asked.

  Evelyn motioned for them to move into the den to be more comfortable. She said, “I did, actually. She used to come to the beauty school to get her hair done. If she had money, I don’t think she would have done that. Later, I would occasionally see her around town. But she was up in her late seventies by then. She had a stroke about three or four years ago, I think it was. She was a sweet lady back when I knew her. She used to grow the prettiest flowers and bring us some for our stations.”

  “She took Sammi in when her parents were murdered,” JJ told Chip. “I don’t know if I’ve told you about that. Have I?”

  “No, but sounds like Sammi’s had some bad breaks.”

  “Hi Daddy,” JJ said into her cell. “Are you still at the nursing home?”

  “No actually, Sammi and I are about two minutes away from Mrs. Young’s house. Just letting her know so not to frighten anyone.”

  “OK, Daddy, Chip’s here with us. Mr. Young is working.”

  “See you in a second.”

  Mrs. Young walked to the door and saw two vehicles pull into the driveway. Mrs. Young’s two Chihuahuas went crazy barking at the noise of the car engines. When she was sure it was Cain and Sammi, she opened the door.

  Chapter 27

  “I feel like celebrating tonight,” the man said to his wife on the phone.

  “Sounds great, darling! What would you like to do?”

  “Let’s drive down to that restaurant west of Perry, the old barn. You’ve been wanting to try it. Nine o’clock okay?”

  “Wonderful. What are we celebrating?

  “I just want to celebrate life. Life is good! I made another step toward closing a big deal.”

  “Great, honey! That makes me happy as well.” She only thought she knew what he referred to.

  The conversation between the husband and wife was casual and intimate at the same time. His wife loved this about him. She never knew which mood he would be in and adapted her own mood to his. When he was pleasant, she was. If he was gruff with her, she dished it right back. He seemed to appreciate this and sometimes tested her to see how quickly she caught on.

  Sometimes though she just could not keep up, and she knew it. She was forgetful and tired most of the time. Because she was only forty years old, she was fearful of an illness. She knew she would have to tell him just not tonight. No, not while we’re celebrating life, she thought.

  The restaurant was not crowded even for a Friday night. It’s the economy, the hostess said. People just don’t want to make the drive, I guess.

  He agreed, as she led them to a back booth.

  “Honey, order me a dry martini. I’m going to step outside and make a call. I just remembered an appointment tomorrow. He lied. She didn’t suspect a thing.

  He drove the two miles to the Holiday storage facility. He needed the gun for the final act of his plan. Punching the combination into the lock box, he eased into the gate parking one row over just as precaution. He moved with his face to the aluminum siding so any detection device would not recognize him.

  “What the?” he said when he saw the garage door to his storage room raised and the locker empty. Assuming it was a trap, he retraced his steps to his own vehicle and left.

  He hurried back to the restaurant where his martini was waiting.

  “Everything all right, my love? You look a little flushed.”

  “No, there’s a change in plans. I may not be able to close the deal tomorrow depends on a call later tonight.”

  He told the truth this time except the appointment was his final kill. He needed another weapon. An untraceable gun.

  He ate his dinner thinking about the storage locker while the wife went on and on about her day. She did not mention her health problems.

  He would express a ‘that’s nice, dear’ or ‘wonderful, honey’ every now and then. She didn’t even notice he was not paying attention to her.

  Later that evening, after enjoying a shot of brandy, she developed a migraine headache and went to bed leaving him in the lounge chair.

  “I’ll be up to check on you in a few minutes, darling.” He knew she would pass out shortly after getting in bed.

  The ten o’clock news showed Patricia Solomon being rolled into the ambulance as one staff worker described her as a very sweet lady who always had a kind word for everyone. A file photo showed Samantha Brockton with her husband, Blake Brockton, during happier days and then a photo of Samantha at a benefit.

  The man lifted his right hand making an obscene gesture to her face on the television and declared, “You’re next!”

  Chapter 28

  Evelyn served cake and coffee as everyone comforte
d Sammi around the large dining room table typical of old Southern farmhouses As one of the oldest houses in River Town, it used to be considered out in the country. Now it sat on the edge of the city limits. Charlie’s huge workshop sat behind a privacy fence, which also hid his tractor and old farm truck from public viewing. He kept a nice garden with a few chickens. He hated how he was now ‘in the city.’

  “Thanks, everyone. These past eight days have just been horrible,” Sammi said. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through without all of you. You’re the best friends I’ve ever had.”

  “And we’ll see you through the rest of the time,” JJ added.

  Sammi continued, “I just don’t know why someone would murder my aunt. I don’t know why someone would murder Blake. He was bound to have enemies from the wheeling and dealing he did, but murder is beyond me.”

  “Me either,” said the friends in unison as they all looked at one another.

  “My brother murdered my parents,” she said, “because he thought they never loved him. I know they did. He just didn’t perceive that they did. I just will never understand why someone would kill another human being.”

  JJ asked, “Sammi, where’s your brother now?”

  “Still in prison. He was tried as an adult and got a maximum sentence, he and one friend. The other one only got ten years. I haven’t talked to Kyle since the day of his sentencing, which was twenty-five years ago. He’ll never get out more than likely.”

  “What could have caused him to act like that?” JJ asked.

  “JJ, I’ve thought about it so much, but I don’t know. We grew up as happy, well-adjusted kids, I thought. Well, until I got out from under him. Daddy used to play ball with him but Kyle was not athletic and just couldn’t excel. He made the team but just always sat on the bench. He saw himself as not good enough. But I’m sure my dad would not have made him think that.”

  “Did he feel inferior? I’m not sure that’s the right word. What I mean is did he feel like he didn’t measure up to your dad’s expectations in other things, grades or other activities?” Evelyn asked.

  “He was just always different, smoking and drinking when he was just ten, eleven years old. And he was a mean little boy.”

  “Mean, how?” JJ asked.

  “Mean, like he killed a neighbor’s cat after he tortured it,” Sammi said with tears in her eyes. “I was six at the time and I’ll never forget that.”

  “Sammi, I’m so sorry,” JJ said.

  “Well, I’ve never talked about it other than to my doctor so in a way it’s therapeutic.” Sammi dried her tears.

  “I was scared of him. I never told my parents the things he did.”

  “Why not?” JJ asked.

  “Well, for one thing he threatened me. He said he would kill my cats, too. I didn’t like his friends either so I always put my cats in my room when they were there.”

  “Did your mother or dad ever say anything to him about his friends?”

  “I know they didn’t like his friends in the house especially when they weren't home, and they argued constantly. But I was only twelve when they died so I’m sure I’ve blocked out a lot. I had therapy for three years. I realize now that none of it was my fault, but at first I blamed myself for not telling anyone.”

  The group became very silent thinking about Sammi’s tragic childhood.

  Chip broke the silence and asked about the woman posing as Aunt Pat’s visitor. “Any idea who the woman at the nursing home was?”

  Cain answered, “Well, what she looked like was not who she is. She signed the log as Mrs. Jonas Attaway.”

  “Mrs. Jonas Attaway, the wife of the man who killed Blake,” Evelyn asked.

  “Mrs. Young,” JJ said, “that man doesn’t exist. I believe he was wearing a make-up mask and probably padding. Detective Marabell knows that was not his dog.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Can I say, daddy?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” he said. Cain asked for another piece of cake.

  “I’ve been studying on this deception,” JJ said. “The day I saw him on TV, I knew he showed no emotion. I thought if I’d found a bloody, dead body, Sammi, I’m sorry,” JJ looked at Sammi.

  “That’s okay, JJ, we’re all interested in what you’re saying.”

  JJ smiled and continued, “Well, he showed absolutely no emotion. You know how a lot of those movie stars even some of the girls at school are getting Botox and other fillers in their faces and they can’t smile like they used to. Well, I think he had on a mask.”

  “Where would he get it?” Sammi asked as Evelyn poured more coffee and passed around a plate of sandwiches.

  “You can get anything off the Internet. Just give a credit card number, and it will be delivered within a week or so.” JJ said.

  “Evelyn, you are quite the Southern hostess but please don’t wait on us,” Sammi said. Evelyn smiled and took a seat with the group.

  “JJ, about what you just said. There’s also a company in Macon that makes those masks, too,” Mrs. Young added. “Or you can buy the jar of stuff to spread over your own face. I’ve seen them do it at the Grand Opera House during their plays when I’ve fixed hair or the wigs for the actresses.”

  “Well, now, do we know anybody in town who performs in those plays not just at the Opera house but at any of the theatres around the area?” JJ asked.

  “No, I don’t,” Chip said.

  “Can’t think of anyone,” Cain said.

  “Me either,” Sammi said.

  “Well, I probably do,” Evelyn said. “Let me call some of my clients and see what they know. Several of them act in plays all the time.”

  “Great,” JJ said as she thought of something else.

  “Also y’all, what about this?” she said. “Dad, you said it looked like somebody was targeting Sammi. But what does the BelRon fire have to do with her? And Madelyn Sommers? Sammi, did you know her very well?”

  “I knew her because she had worked for Blake for so long,” Sammi answered. “She and her husband were at our house about a month ago for a little get together. Well, actually, they’ve been there several times. But no, we were friendly acquaintances but not like ‘girlfriends,’” Sammi said making the motion of quotation marks with her fingers. “I wouldn’t say I knew her well enough for someone to murder her because they hated me. That’s for sure.”

  JJ seemed almost disappointed. Then she remembered. “But that note, remember Mr. Fritz found that note that said ‘not in the plan’ or something like that. Maybe she was mistaken for someone. Do you know anybody that looks like her that the killer might have mistaken her for?”

  “No, she was a sweet lady, always kind, remembering special dates and all. But she did look like lots of other women. She dressed very conservatively, always had her hair groomed. Evelyn saw to that. She was the oldest lady at the real estate office at least in that office. Most of the agents are young, thirtyish or so. I guess Madelyn was in her late forties or so.”

  “Actually, she was fifty-four,” Evelyn said.

  “So maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe she saw something or found something or knew something about Mr. Brockton or the BelRon fire or maybe the murderer. What do you think, daddy?”

  “All good theories honey. I just don’t know. You’re the one who watches all the crime shows. What do you think?”

  Chip waited for her answer.

  “Well, to me. It looks like someone has framed Sammi for Mr. Brockton’s murder. BelRon, I just don’t know what that has to do with Sammi or Mr. Brockton.”

  Sammi said, “I do, maybe, about BelRon anyway. Blake bought that land a long time ago, I think about ten years ago, and he told me he knew it would be worth a lot of money one day. That bypass to Atlanta was going on the west side of Macon and he thought it would go by or through his property which now we know it is.”,

  “Then all of this could have something to do with my file on the bypass being stolen,” Cain said.

  “Su
re,” said Sammi. “Anyway, right before we got married, he told me several companies wanted the property. They had looked at the DOT surveys and knew which of the roads would get an exit ramp.”

  Cain said, “I never saw that survey.”

  Sammi continued, “Blake said it got into a bidding war and one of the companies made an offer of a million dollars more than the other company and that’s who he sold it to since it seemed to be the top bid. Then that company sold to BelRon for even more money. Blake said he didn’t care though. BelRon had not made any offers that he told me about. So not only did he make a huge gain off the land itself, he received a ten per cent commission from the company.”

  “Who were those other companies?” Cain asked.

  “I’m not sure he said. Anyway, I don’t remember.”

  “Wish I could see those files,” Cain said. “I’ll talk to Hilda about it Monday.”

  “They could be at the real estate office. You could call Bill Fritz about it.”

  “Good idea. Does he manage the downtown office as well?”

  “No, not really, at least I don’t think so. But he could probably tell you who to talk to downtown.”

  “Great, Sammi. Thanks.

  “So,” JJ theorized, “I don’t know what this means. Seems like if the fire was to get back at Mr. Brockton, it would have been bombed or whatever before he was murdered. You know to make it look like he did it.”

  Chip said, “I think so, too. I agree with JJ. But then that comic strip mentioned Mr. Brockton to die and indicated a fire at BelRon.”

  “What comic strip?” Sammi and Evelyn asked together.

  Cain supplied the answer to this one and the group kept bouncing theories off one another until Charlie got home about twelve thirty.

  “Y’all having a party?” he asked.

  “More like a wake,” Evelyn replied.

  Charlie joined the group as Evelyn placed a ham and cheese sandwich and potato chips in front of him. He expressed his sympathy to Sammi. Evelyn served another round of ham and cheese sandwiches, some chips and dip, another pot of coffee and soft drinks to the hungry gumshoes.