Read Online With His Dying Breath by Nancy Hogue - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nancy Hogue
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talking.” Jess grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator and asked Jenny if she wanted one.
“ Don’t change the subject! What do you mean talking? What do you two talk about?”
“You know talk, conversation, what y’all call down at the shop chit chat. I guess that’s what y’all call it. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll drop her, and somebody else can take over.” Jenny was beginning to calm down. Her voice was softer and her words were slower.
“No, Jess, I’m sorry. This has just been a stressful day. I just want to know why Blake Brockton was murdered. I just saw, uh, did his nails yesterday. Why not just divorce him? Why did she have to go kill him?”
“I don’ t believe she did, babe. She doesn’t have it in her. The last few months it’s almost as if she’s sick or something. There’s no excitement, no passion in her voice, no plans, she’s just very passive about everything. Like today, she said ‘it’s just another day, just another sad day without a dollar, but I’ll have to get through it.’”
Jess’ eyes widened at his remark. He remembered what she had said. It’s just another sad day. Why would she say that? What did she mean by just getting through it? Like she was aware of something about to happen, but she needed to convince me she didn’t know it. Without a dollar, huh, they have plenty of money.
“Jess, come over here. Let’s sit down on the sofa for a little bit.”
“Jenny, let’s just go to bed, I’m worn out, you’re worn out. It’s almost midnight and I’ve got Mrs. Norman coming in at seven. Oh, how I hate that woman!”
“Well, just be that way. I’m not sleepy , and I don’t have an early appointment.” She stood and walked toward the bedroom as Jess followed.
“Jenny, you’re not having an affair with any of your clients, are you?” he asked in a docile voice.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She walked into the bedroom and left Jess staring at the door just slammed in his face!
Chapter 9
Friday, March 16, 4:45 a.m.
Sammi did not close her eyes all night long fearful of the dreams or worse, the nightmares. Her life was a roller coaster with twists and turns or a run-away train with no tracks. With no defined direction—just freight cars, and oil tankers, wood chips, all crashing together, flying through the air—just endless chaos. A massive collision. There is no stopping a runaway mind.
Her mind had envisioned the previous day’s events all night sorting out what happened, when it happened, who it happened to and why. That was the question. Why?
She had asked why all her life. She remembered going to her grandmother’s funeral who died two days after her fourth birthday. She cried seeing her grandmother lying in the casket dressed in a blue housecoat. “Daddy, why does God let people die? It makes me so sad.”
Her daddy pulled her up into his lap, put his arms around her and said, “Don’t be sad, Angel. Nanny’s with angels up in Heaven. She’s with Jesus and Noah. She’s probably talked about all the animals and how he got them on the ark. Don’t you think Nanny is happy to do that?”
“ Daddy, please don’t ever die. I’m your angel, please don’t die.” Her Daddy assured her he was not going to die. As a child, she believed him.
Sammi, or rather Katie as she was called back then, asked her brother why. “Why did you kill our parents?”
He looked at her with the most evil eyes and called her a name. She was his twelve-year-old sister, five years younger, and he called her a bad, ugly name and said, “You just don’t get it. They never loved me. They were too busy getting you to dance lessons, piano lessons, birthday parties or who knows where all you went. They never saw me in one thing. Not one thing. Why? You tell me
“ Don’t change the subject! What do you mean talking? What do you two talk about?”
“You know talk, conversation, what y’all call down at the shop chit chat. I guess that’s what y’all call it. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll drop her, and somebody else can take over.” Jenny was beginning to calm down. Her voice was softer and her words were slower.
“No, Jess, I’m sorry. This has just been a stressful day. I just want to know why Blake Brockton was murdered. I just saw, uh, did his nails yesterday. Why not just divorce him? Why did she have to go kill him?”
“I don’ t believe she did, babe. She doesn’t have it in her. The last few months it’s almost as if she’s sick or something. There’s no excitement, no passion in her voice, no plans, she’s just very passive about everything. Like today, she said ‘it’s just another day, just another sad day without a dollar, but I’ll have to get through it.’”
Jess’ eyes widened at his remark. He remembered what she had said. It’s just another sad day. Why would she say that? What did she mean by just getting through it? Like she was aware of something about to happen, but she needed to convince me she didn’t know it. Without a dollar, huh, they have plenty of money.
“Jess, come over here. Let’s sit down on the sofa for a little bit.”
“Jenny, let’s just go to bed, I’m worn out, you’re worn out. It’s almost midnight and I’ve got Mrs. Norman coming in at seven. Oh, how I hate that woman!”
“Well, just be that way. I’m not sleepy , and I don’t have an early appointment.” She stood and walked toward the bedroom as Jess followed.
“Jenny, you’re not having an affair with any of your clients, are you?” he asked in a docile voice.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She walked into the bedroom and left Jess staring at the door just slammed in his face!
Chapter 9
Friday, March 16, 4:45 a.m.
Sammi did not close her eyes all night long fearful of the dreams or worse, the nightmares. Her life was a roller coaster with twists and turns or a run-away train with no tracks. With no defined direction—just freight cars, and oil tankers, wood chips, all crashing together, flying through the air—just endless chaos. A massive collision. There is no stopping a runaway mind.
Her mind had envisioned the previous day’s events all night sorting out what happened, when it happened, who it happened to and why. That was the question. Why?
She had asked why all her life. She remembered going to her grandmother’s funeral who died two days after her fourth birthday. She cried seeing her grandmother lying in the casket dressed in a blue housecoat. “Daddy, why does God let people die? It makes me so sad.”
Her daddy pulled her up into his lap, put his arms around her and said, “Don’t be sad, Angel. Nanny’s with angels up in Heaven. She’s with Jesus and Noah. She’s probably talked about all the animals and how he got them on the ark. Don’t you think Nanny is happy to do that?”
“ Daddy, please don’t ever die. I’m your angel, please don’t die.” Her Daddy assured her he was not going to die. As a child, she believed him.
Sammi, or rather Katie as she was called back then, asked her brother why. “Why did you kill our parents?”
He looked at her with the most evil eyes and called her a name. She was his twelve-year-old sister, five years younger, and he called her a bad, ugly name and said, “You just don’t get it. They never loved me. They were too busy getting you to dance lessons, piano lessons, birthday parties or who knows where all you went. They never saw me in one thing. Not one thing. Why? You tell me
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