"Yeah. She showed up at work the next afternoon with the casts. I went to the medical supply store to buy her the scooter."
"What happened between you and Treyson?"
Dawson stared at the tabletop for several minutes. "He was so nice to me. He treated me good, you know. Like I was someone. He..." Dawson cleared his throat. "He asked me out. I really liked the way he treated me. I met him for dinner. He told me he wanted to take care of me. Can you believe it? Me? He wanted me..." Dawson sucked in some air and continued, "Cynthia found out. She was so pissed. She beat the fuck out of me, but I never hit her. I swear." His eye popped up.
Brock saw the truth in the man's stare. "I believe you. How did Cynthia find out?"
"She saw Sam bring me home one night. We'd had dinner and then went to his place up in Briar Hill. A big house. We went in through the back. The kitchen was the size of the dry cleaners. Sam, he was a gentle lover. I really thought maybe something was finally going right in my life, you know?" He leaned forward and winced. "Anyway, after she found out, that's when she stopped me from doing pick-ups. She took my phone and... it was bad. I guess she went to visit Sam. Like I said, she took my phone. I didn't memorize his number, so I had no way of contacting him. I tried to go to one of his places, but..." Dawson closed his eye and a tear escaped down his swollen, bruised cheek. "I got nothing, man. Nothing. That job she gave me keeps me from living on the streets. I’ve been on the streets. I’ll do anything to keep a roof over my head." He shrugged his shoulder a fraction of an inch. "Then he showed up at the cleaners. I was working both the back and front that day. He said he was worried about me and came to see me. He brought his clothes in regularly after that. I tried to work up front. Cynthia doesn't like dealing with customers, so she let me. The last time he came in was last Tuesday. I thought he was going to ask me to come with him when he saw what she'd done to me. The bite marks and bruises. I would have left with him if he'd asked, but Cynthia, she came up from the back. She told Sam I was her fiancé and that I wasn't interested. She told him to leave and never come back or he'd regret it. She threatened to fire me, to put me on the street, and she threatened to out Sam. What could I do?”
"Were there any witnesses?"
"No. We were the only ones in the store."
"Is there a camera system at the front of the store?"
"Yeah, I think. I don't know if it works. I don't get to go into the office. It's locked."
"Okay, let’s go back, can we? You said you tried to go to one of his places. What happened when you went, Dawson?" Every instinct told him all the pieces to the puzzle were going to come into play during these interviews. He needed to keep the man talking.
"The guy he lived with got all up in my face."
"Can you describe him, the guy?"
"Sure, but I know who he is. Sam talked about him, and I'd seen him before. His name is Garrett."
"You saw him at one of Samuel's apartments?"
"Yeah."
"Who beat you, Dawson?"
"I dunno."
"You had to have let them into your apartment, or did Cynthia let them in?"
Dawson shrugged his shoulders. "Did you let him into your apartment?" Brock pushed the question again.
"No. He was there when I came home."
"Did he say anything? Do you know why someone would beat you?"
"To keep me from talking to you. He told me to keep my mouth shut, or he’d shut it permanently."
"Why didn't you call us? Report it?"
"What good would it do, man? He should have just used that bat on my head. If he killed me at least it would all stop."
"Dawson, do you know who killed Sam?"
The man shook his head. "I can only guess."
"Who would you guess?"
"Cynthia."
"Not Garrett?"
"No, he loved Sam."
"Why do you think it was Cynthia?"
"She's... She's threatened to slit my throat while I slept. One night I figure she'll do it. She's not right, Detective."