With His Dying Breath (16 page)

‘
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.

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 t
he public phone at the corner of Second and Cherry but nothing to report.

             
All concerned parties agreed not to publish a story about the clues provided to Cain Matthews. It was too risky. He recovered his file but could not get any information from the alleged thief who was out of jail. She claimed to be innocent, and a public defender prevented her from talking to the police or to Cain Matthews.

             
The most convincing evidence thus far is the comic strip, Skinmore. JJ Matthews had discovered an interesting upshot in the prediction of Blake Brockton’s death and the BelRon fire. All attempts to locate the author of the comic strip had failed.

             
One other newspaper in Jackson, Georgia carried the comic. It was not widely circulated by any means. Both newspapers were owned by Southern Distribution. Southern Distribution leased the comic sections from Comical Equations of Atlanta. Editorial frames arrived via email with a PDF attached. The email account was issued to
Monikers at the InterService Company.
None of this checked
out and there was no listing for the company.

             
Two months of comics had been sent at the same time four weeks ago. The email address was no longer valid. The company had no information on the subscriber. The
Monitor
personnel had no reason to believe it was not an actual comic.

             
In truth, even with the dead ends of the investigation, they were one-step closer to solving the case of Blake’s murder. Samantha Brockton was the only suspect. Her own husband identified her with his dying breath and recent revelations of bigamy provided her motive.

* * *

              The
Macon Monitor
had yet another headline story and River Town, Georgia, had lost another of her citizens to a vicious hand of murder.

Madelyn Sommers
was dead. Cain sat at his desk reading the news article written by a colleague. He had known her a long time as memories from his past flooded his mind. She and her husband were several years older, but they were still friends of Cain and his wife back before JJ was born. Her husband died about a year before Cain’s wife had obviously run away. The two became close. Cain realized he just needed sympathy and ended the brief affair before he got too deep. JJ was only three at the time.

             
Madelyn eventually remarried and moved from a small house in River Town to a large plantation style house on the river. Her new husband’s family had a long history dating back to his great grandfather who owned and operated a riverboat when River Town was in its heyday and her citizens obtained extreme wealth.

             
Cain ran into her at restaurants and civic affairs but had not talked with her in several years.

             
Detectives Nelson and Marabell were called to the scene just because the Brockton Real Estate office was involved. They were to investigate similarities of the two murders, if any. The Captain mandated all information gathered by the two primary detectives be shared among the four detectives. As Jasper had put it, “This is a big sandbox. We’ve got to play together.”  

             
The only lead in the Sommers murder, if it is a lead, is the note ‘not in the plan.’ What plan? Notes had not been found at the Brockton house the day of the murder or the BelRon fire, but that one might have been destroyed. The note possibly belonged in the real estate office. She made a note to compare the handwriting against the note found by the intruder Saturday night.

             
“Jaz, we need to talk to those agents down there and see what they know about this note,” Hilda said. “What else do we have on that case?”

             
“Nothing not a thing that I know of,” Jasper said. “Maybe the autopsy will show something.”

             
“Maybe. What about the note the unis got the other night. The one the intruder dropped. Did you check it out yet? Does the handwriting match?”

             
“Yeah, I don’t know about matching.” Jasper said. “But it was a phone number for some storage building down in Perry. I talked to the manager. They have six hundred units. Without a name to look up, he couldn’t help me.”

             
“Let’s see if they have anything listed for Jonas Attaway!”