A Moment of Clarity: 1, #1

By Robert C. Brewster

It will make you laugh.  It will make you cry.  It will entertain and enlighten you as few other books can.  A novel, that leaves you yearning for more.

A Moment of Clarity

In a small town, in the smallest county in the Florida panhandle, a twenty-five-year-old cold case murder is re-opened.  A new female police officer visits a seniors’ residence to find out that the prime witness in the case, Jacob Jeebs, was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s last year but is still in the early stages. 

Both the judge and the sheriff are locals and have been in their jobs for over thirty years and remember the initial investigation very well.  In fact, the two of them along with Jacob Jeebs have been fishing together every Sunday morning for almost three decades.

This new information might lead to a conviction of the main suspect from twenty-five years ago.  But what would the legal ramifications be?  An Alzheimer’s patient has never testified at a trial of any kind before.

How can you put him on the witness stand?  How can you not?  He is the only one who knows the truth.  Will the defense be able to tear his testimony apart or will the prosecution defend the validity of using a witness who can’t recall what he had for breakfast this morning, but can remember an event that happened years ago in astonishing detail?  ‘A Moment of Clarity’, a ground-breaking legal drama that answers those questions in a compelling, creative way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert C. Brewster
• Release date: Jan 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781505718058

Robert C. Brewster

Robert C. Brewster is the author of six previous fiction novels. There is also a non-fiction account of his time spending summers along the New Jersey shore in the late sixties and early seventies, called: 'On the road to find out.'  He is a writer/film actor/voice character specialist and lives with his wife Kim and daughter Britany and son Kristy in St. Sauveur des Monts, Quebec, Canada.  

Book preview

ALSO BY ROBERT C. BREWSTER

FICTION

NO BORDERS NO BOUNDARIES

DECEIT DECEPTION AND DELIVERANCE

LIGHT UP THE WORLD

GENTLEMEN & PIGS

NON- FICTION

ON THE ROAD TO FIND OUT

I love hearing from my readers.  Please visit

www.robertcbrewster.com

and leave me a message.

Kindle Direct Publishing in 2015 by Robert C. Brewster

Copyright © Text Robert C. Brewster

First Edition

The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. All Rights Reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

––––––––

COVER DESIGN BY BRITANY ROSE BREWSTER

And a special thank you to Joanna Gosse for teaching me a few of the long arduous tricks in the seemingly endless task of editing.

––––––––

This book I dedicate to the memory of Frances Christie Brewster my mother and Robert Brewster Sr. My dad.  They were two very special people who were loved by all who knew them.  I was blessed to have you as my parents.

PART ONE

THE SHERIFF

The Sheriff

It was hot, very hot, even for Clayton Florida in August.  It was six-twenty-three in the morning, and it was already ninety-two degrees.  Sheriff Calvin Clarence Clayton, the third, six foot three with broad shoulders and a full head of gray hair, was easing his ten-year-old police cruiser into his preferential parking space when it finally hit him. 

Today was the first of August and exactly sixty-two days from now he would be retiring.  He'd been the sheriff in Clayton for the last thirty-five years.  Technically he was the last of the male Clayton line.  His grandfather had been the original C.C. Clayton and had arrived in the Panhandle in 1883 when they completed the Pensacola and Atlantic Railroad.  He was twelve years old at the time and came with his young widowed mother.  Back then his name was just Calvin Clarence.  The Clayton Moniker came four years later when his mother married Jeremiah Clayton a man much her senior and so wealthy; they named the town after him.

Today he was reflecting on the fact that four weeks from now he would turn sixty-eight and if he felt like it, he could get elected to another four-year term in November and probably unopposed at that.  Thirty-five years as a small town sheriff where you know everybody and everything about them and how they’re tied or not tied into everybody else.  There are no secrets in a small town, especially from the sheriff who eventually always found out the truth.  Calvin figured that thirty-five years on this job was like putting in fifty years in any other kind of job, and he was no longer kidding himself, he was done.  His bones creaked, and his muscles ached when he awoke every morning and it made him feel at least a decade older than he was.  More sleeping, more fishing, and more letting the rest of the world go to ‘hell in a hand basket' would become his new mantra.  But right now he had to put his dreams aside.  He had a ‘newbie' cop to break in and also pick his potential replacement. 

There was one more thing that he also had to take care of today, something that had been haunting him for the last twenty-five years.  In his long tenure as sheriff his crime to case solved ratio was ninety-nine point nine percent.  That he had convinced himself last night before his head hit the pillow he would rectify before handing over the reins to a new man or woman.

He slowly got out of his cruiser and just stood there leaning against it for a good minute or so, breathing in the fresh sea-salted air.  It never failed to clear the fog in his brain as well as his sinuses.  There would be no need for him to open up the station house door as Bessie-Sue Flanders was walking out just as he was walking in.

What's up Bessie?

Just another domestic in old town, the Braggs are beating each other up again.

It's not even seven yet.

Apparently they didn't sleep last night.  Probably scored some speed.

Whatever.  I need to talk to you at the end of your shift.

Is it anything important chief? The thirty year veteran of the force and Calvin's first hire said honestly concerned.

Yah, my future, he said and laughed.  Go save the Braggs from killing themselves, though we'd all be a lot better for it if they weren't around.  We'll talk later.

If it makes you feel and better chief, I'll stop for a coffee first.  Give them a few more minutes to resolve the situation by themselves, she said heading to her cruiser.

Good idea Bessie, he said smiling. He took another deep breath and then walked into the lobby of the station house to officially start his day.

Hi gramps, the newbie said as soon as he walked in the door.

Can I see you in my office right now, please?  She sensed he was angry with her, which was an unusual emotion for her to feel around her grandfather. 

Sure thing gramps, she said saluting and then followed him into his office.

Close the door behind you, he said as he sat himself down in a Jefferson era chair with a desk to match.  She did as he asked her and sat down in a far more modern chair facing him.

What's up gramps? she said while blowing a bubble from the large mouthful of chewing gum she was essentially chomping. 

She was nervous which was to be expected.  Today was Jessica's first day on the job as a fresh academy recruit.  He would be gentle but also firm, as he knew he had to be, especially with her.  She was now a cop.  He never wanted her to be.  Like his good friend the judge, he also had two daughters and no male heir to carry on the family lineage.  And also like the judge he was a widower.  His wife Kathleen had drowned twelve years ago in a freak boating accident.

Jessica had fallen in love with his uniform when she was three and his job when she was seven.  She became obsessed with what he did every day and regularly quizzed him about it whenever she saw him which was very frequently.  There is nothing like a little girl to melt a grandfather's heart and turn him into putty.  Well, she had been doing it since the day she was born, but not now, not today. 

Everything would change as soon as he opened up his mouth and spoke to her.  He didn't want to be harsh, but he would have to be.  He was going to train his beloved granddaughter to be the best cop that she could be in the next two months.  It would be painful for him right now, but hopefully rewarding for the both of them shortly.  He didn't want to retire and spend his time worrying about Jessica though he knew he would. 

His other daughter Violet had blessed him with twin grandsons whom he rarely saw.  They were in their mid twenties just like Jessica, but they had no interest in law enforcement or community service.  They were into the banking business just like their dad.  Four generations of bankers.  The Winchesters had branches all over the southern states.

Jessica you know how proud I am of you for graduating top of your class at the academy.

I know gramps you told me a hundred times.

Well today is your first day on the job and there are a few protocol things you need to take note of.

Anything you say, gramps, she said blowing another bubble.  He had to smile at his granddaughter's exuberance for the job, but he also had to set her straight.

I need you to repeat a few things after me.

Sure gramps, whatever you need.

Good morning, sheriff, he said as Jessica turned around as though she thought someone had entered the room and was standing behind her.

Jessica, I need you to repeat after me; good morning sheriff.

Good morning sheriff, Jessica said with raised eyebrows and looking a little confused.

Yes sir sheriff.  Yes sir, right away sheriff.  Can I do anything for you, sheriff?

Is something wrong gramps, are you okay?  She tried her best to stay in character.

Precious, I don't know any other way to say this, but when you walk through those front doors every morning I am no longer your gramps, but I am Sheriff Clayton.  Do you understand that?  He looked her straight in the eye.

Jessica burst out laughing and then stood up and walked around the desk and bent over and gave him a big hug.

Sorry sheriff, but mom made me do it.

What are you talking about?  Now it was his turn to have the raised eyebrows.

I was dressed up in my uniform last night standing in front of the mirror in my room practicing how I was going to greet you when you arrived this morning.  Good morning sheriff sir, I said and saluted the mirror.  Good morning sir, I mean sheriff grandfather, and then that's when mom walked in the room and asked me who I was talking to.  He could listen to her talk forever.  He loved her spunk.  He loved the timbre of her voice.  Hell, he loved everything about her.

Mom convinced me to go with the gramps thing sheriff.  She said it would piss you off, but you'd have a good laugh about it later.

The sheriff's laughter was loud and deep, so much so that he had to stand up because he knew if he didn't he would most likely have fallen off the chair.

I'm sorry sheriff, Jessica said smiling from ear to ear and taking the wad of gum out of her mouth and tossing in the waste basket next to the desk.  Mom said she owed you one, and this would be the best way to deliver it.  When he finally regained his composure, Sherriff Clayton smiled at the newbie and sat down again.

Precious, you are your mother's daughter and I so love you for it.  You have her tenacity and her gift for straight face lying.  No, let me rephrase that.  You have a way of role playing that is so convincing that you just might if you're real lucky and with a little nepotism in your favor, you just might make sergeant one day.  He said this so seriously that she momentarily was taken in and felt a little hurt.  She had dreamed of becoming sheriff one day and taking over from him.  Got you, Constable Stanton, he said laughing and slapping his right palm down on his desk.  Don't ever kid a kidder girl, you hear me.  One day you'll be sitting in my chair, but you've got a lot to learn first.  Jessica smiled, and then the two of them had a good laugh.

Gra...  Sheriff Clayton.  Mom said she's making crab cakes and that fish chowder you love so much for dinner tonight, and she'd be honored if you would join us this evening.

Honored.  Really.  Did she say that?

Constable Stanton smiled curtly before saying.  See you at seven Sheriff Clayton and don't be late, you know how mom is. 

Then she left the room and closed the door behind her.  The sheriff smiled and chuckled to himself as he leaned back in his chair.  He thought for a few moments and decided he needed to make an urgent phone call.

The Dinner

That was just lovely, the sheriff said suppressing a burp as he pushed himself away from the table.  My favorite meal cooked by my favorite daughter, he said with a wink, and she raised her eyebrows in return though deep inside she knew it was true.  And, of course, served up by the loveliest and smartest granddaughter a man could have.

Oh my- my, my daddy can twist a phrase and make butter melt in your mouth, Lilly his daughter said flashing him a smile.

Well if you ladies will excuse me for two minutes, I need a little fresh air and I have to make a quick phone call.  He lied about the call.  Jessica if you would join me on the porch in about five minutes I'd like to tell you what I have planned for you for tomorrow.

Sure thing sheriff, I mean gramps.  I'll just help mom with the dishes.

He barely made it out the door and down the porch steps before he did the ultimate after dinner release.  He had a mega burp and a massive fart at the same time.  In some parts of the world, such an achievement would be heralded and talked about for years.  In Clayton, it was just another ‘old fart' letting a few things rip better appreciated outdoors.  He quickly walked away from the scene of the crime and over to his cruiser where he retrieved his one daily after dinner cigar.  He fired it up and enjoyed a few light inhales, and the distinctive aromatic exhale of a fine Cuban cigar. 

A few seconds later the screen door flew open, and Jessica stepped out onto the porch and took a deep breath.  She could still clearly smell the after burn of her grandfather's explosive appreciation of ‘one excellent dinner' that he was doing his best to conceal with the cigar.

So what's up gramps or is it sheriff? she said with a broad, bright smile as she walked down the steps and over to where he was standing next to his cruiser.  She gave him a big hug.  Or is it Big Boss Man? she said grinning and then hugged him again.  She loved her big ‘grampy bear' and wanted to please him so much. 

Gramps I can't believe I'm a cop, she said beaming and then giving him a short soft punch to the shoulder.

For now you are just a newbie until...

For now I'm just a constable and not a constable on patrol for six months.

Do you know every other rule in the book as well as that one?  He tried not to laugh, but failed.

I'm working on it.

Well, I've got something special for you to work on for me tomorrow morning.  He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her back up on the gallery.  There they sat down on the porch swing.

So what's so special that you want to send a newbie? she said raising her arms and making the quote sign.  Why not send a real cop?

It's something personal and I feel, no let me rephrase that.  I know that you are the best one on my staff that might get some new results.

I don't understand gramps, she said now totally relaxed as they slowly moved back and forth on the swing.

I've been sheriff in this town for darn too long and I'm going to retire.

Is that official?  Jessica said raising her eyebrows just like her mother.

Why, have you heard the rumors?

Both of them looked at each other and then burst out laughing.  When they stopped about thirty seconds later, the porch door opened, and Lilly was standing there.

What is, so dawg gone funny?  I'm still cleaning up, and you two are standing out her busting your guts laughing.

Gramps is going to retire.

Don't bullshit me, Lilly exclaimed wishing she hadn't used profanity.  She never used to.  She always tried to be prim and proper whenever possible, but lately she was letting herself loosen up a little.

It's what you want mom, isn't it?  Jessica said dead seriously.

There was total silence for as long as it took a bullfrog to croak four times, which can be pretty long on a hot August night in Florida.  Lilly gathered her thoughts carefully before speaking.

I only want it if you want it, dad.  You've given your whole life to Clayton.  It's time...,

I sat back and smelled the roses.

Maybe smell the bait fish would be more like it, Jessica said laughing and squeezing his arm.  Another long stillness hung in the air.

So what are you going to do dad?  Lilly wanted confirmation.  It didn't take more than a few seconds before he responded.

I'm going to call it a day, he said with a lump in his throat and a twinge in his heart.  It was a decision he knew he had to make and until this very second it was just that and not reality.  Lilly did her best not to react and control the emotions that were boiling up inside of her.

You mean it, Dad? she said as a tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek.

Bet your lives on it girls, this sweet potato pie is ready to come out of the oven because I'm done.

There he had finally said it.  It was final.  There was no turning back now.  It was a hard pill to swallow, but he did it.  Today and for the next two months he would be Sheriff Clayton.  After that, what?  What came next?  Within a few months, would he be a ‘nobody', and soon after that a forgotten memory? 

He didn't want to think about it, at least not right now.  Lilly ran over to her father who was a giant of a man both physically and in her mind's eye.  She grabbed him around the mid-chest as best as her five foot four frame could handle and hugged him long and hard as tears streamed down her face.

You won't regret this dad.  You, more than anyone in this town deserves a little peace and quiet.  You've carried everybody problems around on your shoulders and in your nightmares for far too long.

Well, now that you mention it there is one thing that will haunt me to my dying day if I don't clear it up. 

The Clete Clemons unsolved mysterious death case, Lilly interjected remembering it well since it was the ‘talk of the town' for months afterward.  She had been in her early twenties and just recently married and pregnant at the time.

That's the one sugar plum.

What's your plan?

Well I figure ‘Precious' over here is going to have another look at a twenty-five-year-old murder investigation report with a fresh pair of eyes.

How can I help gramps?  Jessica said with eyes aglow.

I made a call this morning to get all the files on the case out of storage and moved to my office.

What's the case about? she said eagerly. 

We'll talk about it in the morning when we go over the crime scene reports together.

For now let us all go back inside because the coffee is ready.  My Georgia Peach pie smells like it's done, Lilly said as she sniffed the air wafting out of the screen door.

Nothing is sweeter than your peach pie Lilly, nothing.

Gramps you've always told me that I was your sweet Georgia peach even though I was born right here in Clayton, Jessica said with a cute smile.

The sheriff raised his arms over his head in surrender.  Guilty as charged.  Do I need a lawyer?

He gently grabbed his two favorite people in the whole world around the shoulders and led them back into the house.  They spent the next hour laughing and reminiscing and eating the best peach pie in all of the South and maybe, just all of America. 

The Crime

The sheriff and his newbie constable were going through a small box on his desk.  Also on the desktop, was a large pot of coffee and a half dozen freshly baked cinnamon donuts from Doris the Donut Queen's newly opened shop that was the talk of the town.

Okay, constable these are the facts as we know them.  One Clete Clemons, local land baron at the time around here was playing golf with his soon to be son in law Tim Carl.  Tim back then was just new in the land development business and was eager to purchase some prime beach property and get started.  He got engaged to Emmylou, Clete's daughter who was known to dabble in hard drugs from time to time.

I don't see this in the report?  Jessica said as she rapidly scanned the notes in front of her.

You'll just find the facts from the crime scene reports, but your sheriff knows all the back stories, he said with an all-knowing smile.

Tell me more, she said curiously wanting to know everything her grandfather knew and hopefully discover that missing piece of the puzzle overlooked twenty-five years ago.

Well according to Tim Carl whom I believe in my gut orchestrated Clete Clemons's murder, told us a very peculiar tale.  They were on the par four 18th hole, and Clete had already teed off and hit a shot dead center down the fairway and in position for an easy layup for a potential birdie.

What does that have to do with the murder?

Maybe it's nothing or maybe it's something.  Hush now Constable Stanton and let this wise old sheriff ramble on.  The first rule of being a good cop is to be a great listener.  A good cop always sees or senses something that no one else does.  Now where was I?

He's just hit a ball on the fairway a perfect layup, for a potential birdie.

Yes of course.  Well according to Tim, as he reached into his golf bag to retrieve his driver he heard a sharp high pitched sound.  Then he turned just in time to see Clete Clemons get hit in the temple with a golf ball and then collapsed in front of him.

What happened next?  Jessica was on the edge of her seat.

Patience constable. The sheriff drank the last of the coffee in his cup and then continued.  "Again, according to Tim, he immediately started screaming for help.  Jacob Jeebs, the head groundskeeper was the first to arrive on the scene.  Being an Army veteran he ran over and took Clete's pulse and checked for other vital signs but couldn't find any.  By this time according to Jacob, Tim was freaking out and profusely sweating that he thought he was going to have a heart attack or something.  So he made Tim get into the golf cart Jacob had arrived in and drove back to the clubhouse and Jacob called me.  I arrived on the scene about ten minutes later breaking every speed limit along the way.  I had also called the coroner's office and requested him to come to the golf course immediately.  First I went to see Jacob and Tim in the clubhouse bar.  Tim was just finishing his second scotch when I arrived, and Jacob with no beverage in front of him sat opposite him at the table.  I asked Jacob where the body was, and he told me.  I went to the 18th tee, and there he was.  About six feet away from Clete's limp, dead body was a golf ball with blood on it.  There was also blood on the side of Clete's head.  I stared at the crime scene for as long as it took the