With His Dying Breath (14 page)

             
“Sure, take about three minutes.” He returned in less than three minutes with the DVD in a plastic case appropriately marked according to each call.

“Thanks
so much, you’ve been very helpful.”

             
Hilda left the call center not knowing if she was onto something or being deliberately led astray by the perpetrator. She punched in the station’s speed dial code.

             
“Hey, this is Marabell. Yeah... well, would you do something for me? Go down to the morgue and see what items they brought in with Mr. Brockton last Thursday. His body was sent to Atlanta but the morgue should’ve logged his belongings…..specifically, his cell phone… make sure you use gloves , okay…need fingerprints if possible….when you get it just ask dispatch to patch you through to me…..thanks.”

             
Her cell phone rang identifying Jasper calling. “Hey, Hilda, the autopsy is back. He was definitely shot, three times. Once in the stomach and another in the groin. The third one got him — right through the heart, went in his back. The bullet was still there. But hey, they didn’t find all three in the body.”

             
“What was the weapon?”

             
“Get this—a .38 special!”

             
“A snubbie!

“
That’s what women usually carry — not to appear sexist!” Jasper said.

“Do we know if Samantha Brockton owned a gun?”

              “No. No we don’t”

             
“Jaz, we need to find out! Did they test her hands the other day?”

             
“No. No, they didn’t!”

             
“Who was the Glock registered to—the one you found?

             
“Blake Brockton.”

             
JJ moved mechanically from class to class to class preoccupied with the Sunday afternoon meeting at the Monitor with Detectives Nelson and Marabell. Detective Nelson asked her dad about the Saga magazine. They were all sitting around the conference table going over the comic strip.

             
“You ever heard of a rag called,
Saga
, Cain?”

             
“No, a gossip rag?”

             
“No, well, supposed to be true crime. Found several at the Brockton house the other day. Does he seem like the type who’d read that kind of rag?”

             
Cain laughed, “No, but I tell you, Jasper. People aren’t what they appear to be. You know, get behind closed doors in their own home. No telling what kind of personalities come out.”

             
“Saying?”

             
“Well, I’ve covered stories on child abuse, ministers, even our local representative, don’t you remember that about four, maybe five, years ago. He was found to have a criminal record in another state.”

             
“Yeah, I remember.”

             
“So you just can’t really know people from the surface.”

             
“You got the magazines with you.”

             
“No, didn’t seem like anything to me, so I took them back to his house. Guess he liked to read about crime. Who knows?”

             
JJ had seen it in the grocery store checkout area and had even scanned through it a couple of times while waiting in line. Her dad had never heard of it. Would Mr. Brockton read a true crimes magazine, she questioned. Even Dad didn’t have a clue about who or what it was about or how it would fit into this case, and he’s in the business.

             
Detective Marabell mentioned the 9-1-1 call from Blake accusing Sammi, forcing her arrest. We need another suspect so charges will be dropped. NO! We need to find the real murderer. JJ thought. She needed to talk to Sammi and find out about that call to clear it up.

             
Wonder what child abuse Daddy was talking about?

             
In the background, Mr. Grumman’s voice went on and on about Asia and JJ doodled on her notebook paper writing down her thoughts and questions. She listed everything she knew about Mr. Brockton’s murder — the known versus the unknowns. She made a list of her Dad’s clues and the information provided by the county detectives.

             
Someone intentionally framed Sammi. But why? I have to help her—she’s probably the nicest person other than my dad that I know and Mrs. Young, too, she added. She knew why Jonas Attaway had no emotion why he acted so strangely—he didn’t exist. Must’ve been wearing a makeup mask since he never moved a facial muscle. A make-up mask—I need to check that out, she mumbled.

             
“Yes, Miss Matthews?”

             
“Sir!” popping to the present.

             
“Do you have a question?” Mr. Grumman asked. The entire class waited in dire anticipation.

             
“Not really,” she said. “I was just wondering ….” Interrupted by the bell, she heaved a big sigh of relief.

             
“Miss Matthews, may I see you for a moment?” Classmates, especially Wanda, held back, being more than a little curious to know what Mr. Grumman would say to her for not paying attention. “The rest of you may leave,” he said in a raised voice targeting the lingering students.”

             
“I have your make up test score,” he said quietly. She winced.

He turned the paper over to reveal her grade of
seventy-nine. “Wow,” she said.               “I passed.”

             
“Barely,” he seemed to grumble, “But it is passing.”

             
JJ turned and walked away, then turned back and asked, “Mr. Grumman, are you mad at me about something?”

             
He wanted to scream yes, I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you have a new boyfriend, I’m mad that you’re my student that you and I can’t be together because of it, I’m mad about you but he simply said, “Miss Matthews, of course not, guess I just have stuff on my mind! Sorry if I have appeared to be!”

             
He dropped his head and pretended to grade papers while she walked out of the classroom and probably his life.

             
Wanda stood outside the door as JJ left. “Are you in trouble again?”

             
“I’m sorry, what?”

             
“What did you do this time?” She hoped it would end it once and for all with Mr. Grumman.

             
“Oh, I just got my makeup test back. Nothing really. Why?”

             
“Just thought he caught you not paying attention. But it could’ve been a way to get you alone to ask you out.”

             
“Wanda! He’s my teacher. Students can’t date teachers.” Wanda walked away knowing JJ wasn’t admitting to a relationship with him.

She didn’t give
Wanda a second thought and went directly to Dr. Jacob’s office. She was in a meeting, and JJ couldn’t wait. She promised Mrs. Young she would get to the salon as quickly as possible.

             
“No clients. Yeah,” JJ said knowing the shop was closed. “No interruptions!” At least she hoped that was the case. At three o’clock on the nose, she pulled in beside Mrs. Young’s Cadillac. She bounded up to the door and pulled. It was locked. She could not see through the dark film on the glass.

S
he knocked, tapped on the glass window with her keys and still no answer. She called both the shop and Mrs. Young’s cell numbers, and it went straight to voice mail. “Hmm, what’s up,” she wondered. 

             
Trying to decide to leave or wait around, she noticed just a very few cars in the entire parking lot. “What is going on? Where is everybody?” She walked to the Take Note music store. Chip’s sister wasn’t working today, and the assistant manager stated it’s been like this all day. I think I’ve had two customers!”

             
“Have you seen Mrs. Young, the manager of the beauty shop next door? I’m supposed to work but the door’s locked.”

             
“No,” scanning the parking lot. “That’s her car parked next to the light pole, but I’ve mostly been straightening out old stuff and moving in the newer books and equipment. Sorry.”

             
“Well. No problem, I guess. I’ll just wait around a few minutes longer.”

             
Instead, JJ found herself walking down to the Brockton Real Estate office. One of the cars was parked in front of the glass doors.

She opened the door, “Hello. Hello,” she called out.
She turned to leave as a woman came from the back.

             
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking JJ up and down.

“Hi. I work at the beauty
shop. Just down a little ways. Mr. Brockton owns, sorry, owned it.”

             
“Yes.”

             
“I’m looking for Mrs. Young. She was supposed to be there to let me in. Any chance you’ve seen her?”

             
The lady stretched her neck to the parking lot. “Is that her Cadillac?”

             
“Yes, it’s her car. Just… I’m wondering where she is!”

             
JJ was getting annoyed at this point, which was well noticed by the woman. Here’s the phone if you want to call, pushing the phone to her revealing a rose tattoo on her left wrist at the thumb. Oh, I need to take a photo but that would be stupid. She tried to remember as much of the woman as she could.

             
Hair brownish-gray, thick rimmed glasses kinda like Irkel and very skinny, a little shorter than JJ. She was also barefooted.

             
“Well, thanks anyway, I’ve tried from my cell. I’ll just go back and knock some more. Maybe she was in the bathroom.” Trying to make light of it. “Thanks, sorry, if I bothered you.”

             
JJ walked toward the shop and dialed her dad. She talked so fast he could not understand her at first. Finally, JJ took a deep breath repeating that she knew who the mystery woman was.

             
Within five minutes, Cain Matthews and three River Town police officers were at the Brockton Real Estate office. Detectives Nelson and Marabell arrived a few minutes later. The woman nervously squirmed in an office chair unaware of what was going on until JJ walked in. “I warned you to be careful, now look what you’ve done.”

             
“Where’s my file,” Cain asked. “And don’t you ever talk to my daughter again.”

             
JJ asked, “What do you mean look what I’ve done. You’re the one who seems to be in trouble. What were you warning me about, and why did you take my dad’s file?”

             
“Cain, I’m gonna have her taken in for questioning. I’ll give you a call, when she’s booked.”

             
“Booked? For what, I haven’t done anything.”

             
JJ heard a policeman reading her the Miranda warning as he led her out the door.

             
“Hilda, can we get a warrant so I can find my file on the by-pass. Lots of research, photos, reports. Just lots of stuff I’d like to have back.”

             
“Probably could. But if you know the wife, she’ll probably just let you look for it.” Cain punched 4-1-1 and asked for the office of Wilson Lopez.

             
Evelyn poked her head in and asked, “What happened?”

             
“Mrs. Young, where have you been, I’ve been worried sick. I knocked and knocked but you didn’t answer the door or your phone.”

             
Interrupting, she said, “JJ, I’m sorry. I couldn’t call you because you were in class. I should’ve left you a message but I really thought I’d be back before you. Then the battery died. Wish I could remember to charge the thing at night. Something came up that caught me by surprise. Something with Jenny and I just had to help her. She came by and picked me up. I’m so sorry. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. What happened here though? I saw the police cars.”

             
JJ interrupted her babbling, “Let’s go, Mrs. Young and I’ll tell you all about it.”

             
“We’ve both got a lot to talk about!”

             
JJ thought the Exquisite You salon was far from exquisite today. It was a mess. Towels piled up, hair all over the floor, magazines and newspapers scattered everywhere, trashcans overflowing with empty hair products, soda cans, snack wrappers, sticky stuff all over the shampoo bowls. Just a mess. She went right to work. In less than two hours, the place was spotless with magazines, newspapers hair products in their proper place. Shampoo bowls, mirrors, hair dryers, the leather furniture in the waiting room all dusted and polished, floor swept and mopped, towels and smocks, washed, dried, and neatly put away and even the snack and soda machines restocked.

             
JJ broke down the last empty box and placed it outside in the recycle bin. Evelyn walked out of the office in amazement as JJ closed the back door. She went right back to her office and wrote JJ a check for $100 bonus. “JJ, you’re amazing! Thank you.”

             
“Wow,” looking at the dollar figure, “Thank you.”

             
“Well, this has been an extremely good week. You deserve it!”

             
“Mrs. Young, did you know the rose tattoo lady?”

             
“No, I can’t place her,” she said, handing JJ a canned orange drink. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her. Was she an agent? I know they come and go so much, changing brokerages and all. I don’t know her though. She may have been in here the other day right after Blake’s murder.”

“She called me on my cell phone and told me to be very careful. That day I was showing you the photo. But I can’t place her either. That day was a madhouse.”

              “Anyway, she’s caught. You think she killed Blake?”

             
“Who knows? Oh Mrs. Young, what about Jenny?”

             
“JJ, it’s so sad. Let’s sit down over here.” Evelyn noticed JJ had the most current magazines on top of the coffee table and others in the magazine rack.

             
“Please don’t say anything. But Jenny’s about to have a nervous breakdown. She drove over here, which surprised me, but she’s in bad shape. I don’t think she has any friends. I guess that’s why she called me to go with her to a psychiatrist. Seems like the receptionist knew her as a previous patient when she took her back. I didn’t go in the room. I just waited in the reception area.”