With His Dying Breath (4 page)

Cain Matthews is a little heavy for his height of 5’11”. His main food source is fast food, and his exercise program consists of walking back and forth to his parked car from the office or his home. His daughter, JJ, feeds him well at home, but his work schedule does not often allow home cooking except for leftovers heated up in the microwave.

When chasing newspaper stories, he stops at whatever fast food restaurant is on the way. Today it was Wink’s
across the street from the
Monitor’
s office. They’ve added old-fashioned vanilla milkshakes, thick vanilla milkshakes, to their menu, and he is hooked. He pulled through the drive-through ordered a chilidog, curly fries, and the milkshake and headed back to the office.

He sat at the computer at his City desk typing out the facts of Blake Brockton’s murder. ‘Benton Blake Brockton, a prominent Macon businessman, was found dead at his Riverside Station home today.’ He
took another slurp from the milkshake. ‘A neighbor, Jonas Attaway, discovered the body while walking his dog…’ another slurp. …Mitch Wilson, a long-time associate of Blake Brockton was shocked…..a loss to this city….county jail…..autopsy results….arrest made…under investigation’ and so the lead story for the next morning, maybe for the month was completed. It took him about two hours to get it right with numerous edits and rewrites. Although the City Editor would write the headline for the article, Cain suggested, “Brockton Murder under Investigation.” It was rather dull, but it might take the suspicion off Sammi and direct the crowd away from the guillotine. He moved the article to the City Editor’s folder on the share drive.

“Hey Cain, got your article done?”
another reporter asked.

“Yeah, just passed it over.”

“You think she’s guilty?”

“No way.
What a mistake the police have made! If Sammi murdered Blake, then he deserved what she gave him. He probably deserved it anyway. Sammi, kill someone? No way! No way could that woman hurt anybody!”

“You sure seem sure. You gonna be biased in all this?”

“Let me just tell you. The way she befriended my daughter, comforting her, giving her advice like, well maybe not quite like a mom, but at least a big sister, nope, she didn’t do it! And yes I can remain neutral — in print anyway.”

T
he office manager walked in and interrupted their conversation. “Cain, have you had your cell phone with you today?”

“Sure, what’s up?”
Cain checked his cell phone, observed that it was on silence and switched it to vibrate. There were voice mails waiting.

“Well, you haven’t called me back
, and there’s probably ten, maybe fifteen, that came in on the other line. Check the board.” He took one long slurp to get the last drop of the milkshake.

“I know. I’m sorry. You know I was assigned this murder story so I’ve been talking to some people and trying to get the police reports. Anything important?”

“Well, with the assignment you just got, might be worth taking a look-see.”

Cain
tossed the milkshake cup into the trash can and walked through the maze of cubicles, past the various editors’ desks and clerks, supply room, and finally past the break room to the secretary’s desk. There were twenty-two messages pinned up under his name. Flipping through them, he saw nine from the same person, a Penny Reid Skinmore. He repeated the name again and knew he had never heard that name before. Every one of the phone messages looked the same way. Skinmore. Well, it was obviously important. Let’s see what she has to say.

Blake plugged
in the recording device, dialed the number 478-555-5433.

“Hello”

“This is Cain Matthews with the
Macon Monitor
. I’m returning your calls from this afternoon. Who is this, please?”

“This is the person who is going to provide you the story of your lifetime. Do you want the story?”

“What’s the subject?”

“Greed, bigamy, extortion, fraud.”

“Those are definitely pretty big words. Are they tied to any specific person?”

“Blake Brockton, why do you think he’s dead? Think about it. Are you brave enough to put it in print?”

“Well, I need some proof, something to docu….”

Click.

“ment your claims…hello, hello…”

Cain stood up and looked out his window. “
Well, well, it’s going to get pretty interesting around here!” he said to the office ghosts as he starts to listen to the recorded conversation again. First, though he checked on JJ

He
jumped about two feet as his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket just as his hand wrapped around it. He checked the Caller ID.

“Hi baby”

“Hi Daddy. You don’t think Sammi’s guilty do you?”

“Well, I’m supposed to be unbiased in writing this s
tory.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and said, “No, I don’t.”

“Good, Daddy, this is your big story, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, I just finished the lead article for the morning paper. You already at home?”

“No sir, I just left the beauty shop. I was going by the grocery
, but first, what time will you be getting home, Daddy?”

“Not sure, hon, just not sure. You got the debit card for the groceries?”

“Yes sir, but Daddy, could you meet me somewhere first, maybe Yum Yum’s? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well, of course, can you give me about fifteen minutes
, and if you get there first, go ahead and get me my usual.”

“Okay,
Daddy thanks.”

Cain played the recording again. There was something peculiar about the voice. It didn’t really sound like a woman even though the name was Penny, didn’t sound like a man though, either. It sounded distorted
or muffled. In a way, it sounded like several different voices who had said the same thing, then pieced together one word at a time. “But how could that be,” he asked himself. “I asked the questions so how could that be.”

He Googled the telephone number and came up empty. He’d have to find out where that number originated. Wonder how they knew he had the story, he mumbled to himself. “We’ve got at least a dozen reporters that cou
ld have been assigned the story,” he said again talking to the office ghosts.

Cain checked the first of the six messages. It came in at
one twenty and he only arrived at the Brockton estate about one fifteen He asked questions at the scene of almost everyone there. It’s gotta be one of the onlookers standing around—one of those people I’ve already talked to, he surmised. The killer always returned to the scene of the crime. “I’ll get you, just wait, keep on playing, keep on calling, I’ll get you!” he said to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot to meet JJ.   

* * *

Sammi was alone in her jail cell. The deputies asked her three different times if she wanted to use the telephone, but she politely declined. She asked to use the ladies’ room and for a glass of water. She had not asked for the telephone. Who would I call? My parents are dead; my brother in prison, my aunt is an invalid. She could not name anybody she would consider a friend to call. Almost everyone she knew in town was an acquaintance of hers because of Blake but just an acquaintance.

A deputy stood at her cell door. “Mrs. Brockton you have a visitor. Her name is Jessica Matthews. If you want to see her, you can use the room we’ve got for lawyers to meet with inmates.”

“JJ. How sweet of her. Of course, I’ll talk to her and yes, it’ll be nice to sit in a real chair for a few minutes.”

The deputy unlocked the cell without taking his eyes off her. She looked like a movie star so elegant and so refined. She was nothing at all like the other women they usually get in there, cussing and fighting, nasty acting. No, this woman is classy
. “Just come with me, Mrs. Brockton.”

“
Thank you, Deputy,” she said as she looked at his nametag. “Deputy James.”

He opened the door for her where JJ was waiting and instructed her to sit on this side of the desk. She was so happy to see JJ. Deputy James stepped outside the door in a dream state.
These two beautiful women at the county jail. Wow. Two women who could be in movies or on the cover of fashion magazines were sitting in the room next to me. He could smell the perfumes still lingering in the air.

“JJ, how sw
eet of you to come.”

“Mrs.
Brockton, I brought you a salad. It has grilled chicken, dried cranberries, and toasted pecans. I didn’t know what dressing you like so I brought three different kinds.”

Tears started to flow down
Sammi’s face. “JJ, thank you. Thank you so much. This means more to me than you know.”

“Mrs. Brockton, you’re so welcome.”

“JJ, please call me Sammi.”

“Yes ma’am. Everything’s
going to be okay. My dad and I know you’re innocent. He’s been assigned the story, so he has to write the facts and all that, but you’ve got to know, we know,” JJ face was very expressive as she said, “We know you’re innocent.”

“JJ, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Funny thing, I actually feel safe in here. I’m confined so nobody can get in to harm me. There are a few more women back there, but they
're mostly quiet. One keeps trying to find her lawyer, so she’s in and out. But the guards, deputies, the officers have been very nice. Nothing like you’d expect. Well, I’m not sure what I would expect, actually.”

“
What are you going to do? What lawyer did you call?”

“JJ, I haven’t called anybody. I don’t know anybody. One of the deputies said there are business cards in a desk, up there, if I wanted to look through them. But I don’t want to make the wrong decision. So I just want to hear what the judge has to say.”

“I understand.”

“JJ, even if they let me out, where do I go? Did you see the front door of my home? It is covered with blood. I know I can’t think of living there again
. Actually, I know I can’t live there again. The house is so big and it’s mostly Blake’s things. Sure a lot of them he bought for me. I might have to sell all of it for my defense, if I ever hire a lawyer.”

JJ
removed the salad from the paper bag and put it in front of Sammi. “Which dressing?” she asks as she held up honey mustard, lite ranch, and thousand island.

“Honey mustard sounds good.”
Sammi had no appetite, but if JJ was sweet enough to think of her in this way, she was certainly not going to disappoint her. The smell of grilled chicken enticed her to take a bite. “This is delicious, JJ. What a nice surprise.” She took more bites. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

The conversation of Blake’s murder had temporarily ceased
as Sammi ate the dried cranberries one at a time. JJ’s mind had gone into overdrive to formulate plans to help this woman she adored.

Deputy James came back in the room. “Mrs. Brockton, I’m sorry to interrupt
, you, but there’s somebody else here to see you. His name is,” he looked at the Visitor’s Registration Card, “Mr. Mitchell Lopez.”

“Mitch is here, how sweet.”

“Yes ma’am, he’s with his brother, a Mr. Wilson Lopez, who’s an attorney.”

“Mitch’s brother is an attorney?”

“Sammi,” JJ spoke in a whisper. “I’m going on so you can meet with him. But don’t you worry. Everything is going to be fine. My dad and I will see to that.”

“JJ, I will never be able to return this kindness to you. So please know that you are a very special young lady to me. I’m so grateful to you.” JJ hugged her, as a big sister would do. She was in a role reversal once again.

JJ left Sammi in the consultation room, exiting through a door into the Deputy’s office. She felt encouraged after seeing Sammi eat a little bit. She looked ten pounds thinner than the last time she saw her at the beauty shop, and that was only three days ago. She’s still as beautiful as ever though, JJ thought. She wanted to call her Dad to tell him about the visit and the lawyer that was there.

“Mrs. Brockton,” Deputy James was asking, “do you want to see this lawyer?”

“Yes, please, may I see Mitch, too? Is it okay for both of them to come in? He’s the landscaper who keeps our grounds so beautiful.”

“Yes, ma’am, I think it’ll be okay. It’s pretty quiet tonight.”

As Deputy James showed the Lopez brothers into the meeting room, he heard one of them talking to Mrs. Brockton about how sorry he was, how he had seen to her animals and they were okay. He said a police officer followed him around while he put food out for the three cats, birdseed for the birds and the squirrels, and a family of rabbits that she had discovered two days ago and hid from her feline family. He heard her again being so thankful. A woman like this deserved to get out of here, Deputy James thought. No way, did she belong in a jail cell. She’s just too nice.

JJ was waiting at his desk to turn in her badge and sign the book to leave. “Thank you for being so nice to Mrs. Brockton. I just can’t believe this has happened, not to her.”