Molly: House on Fire

by R. E. Bradshaw

  #

  Leslie told the police what she knew, which was not much. She came home, flipped on the lights, and ran like hell to a neighbor’s house. An officer had walked her through the scene. Her files were scattered everywhere, drawers emptied on the floor. It would take a while to sort through it all, in order to establish if anything was missing. Molly listened as the detective questioned Leslie, absorbing as much information as possible. She learned what happened at Leslie’s house and also a few things about Leslie.

  Ms. Walker was not drawn to hysterics. She recovered quickly from the initial shock and was able to answer the questions calmly. Molly detected a bit of irritation in Leslie’s voice. She did not like this detective and it became apparent why at the end of the conversation.

  When asked to speculate on what the person was looking for, Leslie answered with a smirk, “I suppose the same thing they were looking for at Joe’s when Cheryl was murdered.”

  “Well now, Ms. Walker, you know the person responsible for that crime is in jail awaiting trial. He could not have been involved in this.”

  “Exactly my point,” Leslie said, growing animated. “If you would pull your head out of the sand and look around, you’d see Joey had nothing to do with his mother’s murder. What happened at my house proves that.”

  The detective gave Leslie one of those “you’re just a distraught woman” smiles. If that was not enough, he said, “Maybe another one of your patients lost his mind and came after you this time.”

  Leslie flew off the couch at him. “Let me explain something to you. These are not my patients. They are my students or clients. They are not in treatment, but involved in intensive training. I am their teacher. One of the things I teach them is how to deal with ignorant people who hide their true intentions behind social etiquette. I’ve learned something from them as well. I call it like I see it, and you Detective Arnold are so bound up in your own ego, you won’t even consider the possibility that you are wrong.”

  Leslie stormed out of the room and disappeared somewhere in the back of the house. Molly did not catch the detective’s name when he introduced himself, but she heard it clearly when Leslie called him out. Detective Arnold was one of the investigators in Joey’s case. He allowed Molly to stay during the interview. He was not given much choice, after Leslie said, rather tersely, “This is my attorney, and I’d like to have her present.” That was Molly’s first clue of the hostility between the two of them. Molly did not argue. If Leslie felt the need for an attorney, she was happy to oblige. Molly did not sleep with clients and that would settle that issue… maybe.

  Molly stood to face the detective, who was chuckling at Leslie’s outburst. That told Molly just what kind of guy this was. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, as he watched Leslie’s exit. Molly flushed with anger at the way Arnold leered at Leslie and the location of his gaze.

  “Detective Arnold,” Molly said, pulling his attention away from whatever fantasy he was living in his mind. “I should introduce myself. My name is Molly Kincaid and I’m representing Joey Erickson. I’ve seen your name on the reports.”

  Arnold wiped his hand over his chin a few times, now leering at Molly. She watched his eyes trail down the silk to her breasts, while he commented, “I heard Joe sent for some fancy lawyer. Wasn’t expecting a pretty little thing like you.”

  This guy was going to be a joy to tear apart on the stand. Molly smiled and said, “I look forward to deposing you. I’d like to hear more about your predisposition to assume clients of psychologists are subject to lose their minds. Let me ask you, Detective, does the department have a psychologist and are officers required to have mental health evaluations?”

  Arnold flushed red. “I’m not saying anything without the department lawyer present. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Randy passed the retreating officer, as he entered the parlor. He looked at Molly, a wide grin on his face. “Looks like he just got Molly’d.”

  “What?” Molly asked, chuckling.

  “That’s what the cops call it when you make them look like idiots on the stand. No kidding, I hear it all the time. Some of them don’t like you too much.”

  “The feeling is mutual in most of those cases,” Molly replied. “I sure as hell don’t like this guy. That was Detective Arnold.”

  “The one from the reports?” Randy asked.

  “The very same. Leslie appears to dislike him quite a bit. At first, I thought it was because he arrested Joey, but she has his number. He’s a jackass.”

  “She was pretty upset when she took off up the stairs. Tammy went after her.”

  Molly thought about Leslie’s reaction and smiled. “She seems quite capable of taking care of herself. She had no problem letting Detective Arnold know how she felt.”

  “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  “Check in at the office. Handle what you can. Let me know if I need to deal with something. Then, I need you to go through the judge’s discovery motions. Make sure he didn’t miss anything and verify we have what he’s already asked for. Talk to Diane. She can give you copies of my usual requests if you need them. Oh, and file a motion informing the court of the change in attorneys.”

  Diane, Molly’s legal secretary, was indispensible. Molly paid her extremely well to ensure Diane knew how valuable she was. Legal secretaries with Diane’s skills were hard to come by and Molly wanted to keep her around.

  Randy followed Molly toward the stairs, asking, “What are you going to be doing?”

  “I need to see Judge Whitehall. He’s the only person I know that spent time with my mother those last two years. Maybe he can point me in the right direction.” Molly stopped on the second floor landing to leave Randy at his door. “I’m going to go see Rainey tomorrow night. I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone and I need her to go over these cases with me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Randy suggested.

  “No. I’d prefer to make my confession to her without my attorney present and besides, you don’t want to miss the catfish.” She laughed, trying to put him off the topic.

  Randy did not bite. “I’m a little worried about you out there on the road, alone. Someone is threatening you and, it appears, anyone else connected to this case.”

  Molly patted him on the back, reassuring him. “They have to be able to catch me, Randy. That’s highly unlikely.”

  Molly left Randy at his door and continued up to the third floor. She met Tammy at the top of the stairs, about to descend.

  “How’s she doing?” Molly asked.

  Her answer came from behind Tammy.

  “I’m fine.” Leslie was standing in the open door of the room next to Molly’s. “That guy just pushes my buttons.”

  Molly grinned at Leslie, and said, “I didn’t notice.”

  Tammy patted Molly’s shoulder as she passed her on the stairs. “Y’all have a good night, now. Just holler if you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” Molly replied. “Good night.”

  Leslie remained in her doorway, as Molly crossed to hers. “Thanks for staying with me in there.”

  Hand on the doorknob, Molly turned toward Leslie. “You’re welcome, though you didn’t need me, so no charge. You handled that jackass very well on your own.”

  Leslie chuckled. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Molly let go of the doorknob and leaned against the doorframe. “I like cops, in general,” she said, “but like any segment of society, they have their share of idiots.”

  “Sorry about your shirt,” Leslie said, pointing at Molly’s tearstained shoulder.

  Molly glanced at the shadows of salty tears still on her shirt and remembered holding Leslie close to her. At the time, she was more concerned with Leslie’s welfare than the taut muscles at her waist, the warmth of Leslie’s skin so close to her fingertips. Now, framed in the doorway, by the amber glow of the light from the room behind her, Leslie was presenting another facet of her many looks. Any edges had sof
tened, her defenses down, Leslie’s vulnerability was showing, and it was all too much for Molly. She imagined herself striding the few steps that stood between them, tucking the loose strands of hair behind Leslie’s ear, and kissing her softly on the lips. It was odd that was all she wanted to do, simply kiss her, and then hold her until Leslie’s fears subsided. This thought scared Molly worse than wanting to sleep with Leslie.

  She turned back to her door and said over her shoulder, “It’ll wash. I hope you get some sleep. Good night.”

  She heard Leslie’s confused, “Good night,” as Molly opened the door and walked into her room.

  She closed and locked the door behind her, as if that could keep the thoughts racing through her head at bay. Molly was not looking, was not even remotely interested in a relationship. It was true what she told Randy, about being tired of frivolous encounters, but this was not the time for and most definitely not the place Molly wanted to find a romance. She put away the laptop and the files for the evening. Perplexed and unsettled by her inability to shrug Leslie off, she climbed into bed and turned off the light. She could hear Leslie moving around in the other room.

  “Just stay on your side of the wall,” Molly said to the darkness. “Walls are good.”

  Molly heard Leslie open the door from her side of the shared bathroom. The water started running in the shower. Molly could see the shadows playing on the floor under the door. The only thing standing between Molly and a naked, probably sexier with water cascading over her body, Leslie Walker was a thin wooden door.

  Molly looked up at the ceiling, and thought, “Oh my, God. Can this get any worse?” She pulled a pillow over her head, and said into it, “I am in hell, truly in hell.”

  Molly closed her eyes, yanking the pillow down hard over her ears. The exhaustion finally took hold and she drifted to sleep with images of a waterfall and Leslie Walker accompanying her to dreamland.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Molly’s night was filled with vivid dreams, but she slept through them without waking to stare at the walls. It was a restless sleep, evidenced by her reflection in the dresser mirror, as she crept by it, heading toward the bathroom. Her hair was going in several different directions, with part of her feathered bangs sticking straight up in the air. She knocked softly on the bathroom door, making sure it was unoccupied. Hearing no reply, she opened the door and tiptoed across the floor, locking the access door to Leslie’s room. After taking a quick shower, Molly unlocked Leslie’s door, and vacated the bathroom, taking her makeup with her. She did not want to hog the bathroom, in case Leslie awakened. Once back in her room, Molly called Judge Whitehall’s office, making an appointment for nine-thirty.

  At eight-thirty, wearing a charcoal Dolce & Gabbana suit with steel-blue pin stripes, her silk blouse matching the pin stripe and her eyes, Molly descended the stairs ready to take on the day. She looked good in this suit and Molly needed to feel good about something. As each day brought more of her past to light, she was grasping at things to lighten her mood. The aroma of frying bacon met her at the top of the stairs. She never heard Leslie stirring and assumed she must still be sleeping. Molly, as it turned out, was the last one up. Leslie, Randy, Brad, and Tammy were all seated at the dining room table, appearing to have just finished breakfast, when Molly made her entrance.

  “Good morning,” Randy said, standing upon seeing Molly. “You look rested.”

  Molly walked into the parlor to put her briefcase down, answering over her shoulder. “Yes, I slept very well.”

  Molly returned to the table and took the seat next to Leslie, prepared to fight off any feelings of attraction, now that she was feeling more herself. The sleep had been much needed and cleared her head. Molly was sure that Leslie would be less of a problem, now. That theory lasted about a minute, when she looked into Leslie’s eyes for the first time. This morning they were clear and bright, no hint of the fear Molly saw last night, as Leslie launched into a description of what Molly missed.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you when I got up this morning. Brad took me by my house, so I could grab some clothes, and then Randy and I went for a run.”

  Randy was freshly showered, clean-shaven, and dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, ready for a day of paperwork. Leslie looked much as she did the first time Molly saw her, dressed in running clothes, with her hair in a ponytail. Brad appeared tired, after a late shift, but Tammy was sparklingly chipper. Molly was unaware the whole household had been awake while she slept. She needed the sleep more than a run, so she was not sorry she missed it.

  “I thought you were still asleep,” Molly answered. “I must have been really out of it.”

  Tammy came up beside Molly to pour her coffee. “Have some coffee and I’ll bring you a plate. I kept your breakfast warm.”

  Molly turned to say thank you to Tammy and caught Leslie’s gaze. Leslie was watching Molly with an odd look on her face, as if something just occurred to her. She became suddenly enamored with the lace on the tablecloth, when she realized Molly was looking back. Molly smiled and reached for her coffee. That was the first sign of interest from Ms. Walker and it pleased Molly. She had a long day ahead of her, and thinking about Leslie was the last thing she needed. Still, it was nice to know the attractive psychologist was not immune to her charms.

  When Tammy returned with a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, hash browns, and freshly baked biscuits, Molly knew she would have to run tomorrow morning if she continued to eat like this. That reminded Molly to tell Tammy her dinner plans.

  “Thank you, so much. This looks fantastic. I need to tell you, I will not be here for the catfish tonight. I’m driving to Chapel Hill to meet the firm’s investigator. We have to go over the crime scene photos and reports. I’m planning on coming back, but it will be rather late.”

  Brad leaned on his elbows, looking at Molly. “Are you sure you should be out, alone?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Molly said, after swallowing her first bite of eggs. “I think whoever this is wants information. If they kill me, they won’t find out what they need to know.”

  “And what is that?” Leslie asked.

  Molly turned to her. “I don’t know, but someone out there thinks my mother knew something and didn’t want me to come here. I believe Joe was right. Cheryl’s death wasn’t planned. I think the cover up to make it look like the serial killer was a convenient way to hide what really happened.”

  Brad rubbed his chin. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’m going to look into who would have access to the information about the other crime scenes, if that’s okay with you? I don’t want to get in the way.”

  Molly held a fork full of hash browns just beyond her lips and said, “That would be great. You’ll probably have more luck with that than either Randy or I could.” She took the bite into her mouth before someone could ask her another question.

  “I’m going to go see Joey this morning,” Leslie said, while pouring Molly a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the table. Setting the glass in front of Molly, as if this was something she did every morning, she continued, “Is there anything you need me to start preparing him for — any meetings, court appearances, things like that?”

  Molly sipped the juice and peered over the glass at Leslie, who was having trouble maintaining eye contact. So, Leslie was finally uncomfortable around Molly. Good, the playing field was leveling. Molly hid her grin behind the glass until she had it under control, and then answered Leslie’s question.

  “I will need to see him tomorrow, after I talk to the investigator. I’ll have more of an idea what to ask him then.” She turned to Brad. “Do you think you could set that up in the afternoon?”

  “Sure, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Randy, who had been quiet up to now, spoke to Brad. “Could you give me a tour of the courthouse, later today? I’d like to get the lay of the land, locate pertinent offices, the courtroom. I also have to file a change of attorney motion with the court.”

  Brad sl
id his chair back from the table. “Tell you what, let me catch a couple hours sleep and I’ll be glad to do that.”

  Tammy stood with Brad, standing on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. Even with her efforts, he still had to lean down to receive it. “I’ll get you up when lunch is ready. BJ took Nick fishing early this morning, so it should be quiet for a while.”

  “Must be nice to live in a small town, where your kids can walk to the river and fish anytime they want,” Randy said.

  Tammy shuddered. “These murders have everyone uptight. I wouldn’t let the boys go until their friend Darrell’s dad said he’d go with them.”

  Brad, looking somewhat relieved, excused himself from the table. He had been thinking the same thing as Molly. Keep your kids safe. Molly could tell from his expression that he too thought they were all in danger, now.

  Randy stood up and stretched. “I am so full. I feel like I need to run again, or take a nap. Alas, paperwork awaits. Thank you, Tammy.”

  Tammy smiled with pride at the compliment, but began to take into account the healthy, athletic crowd she was feeding and offered, “I’ll make a light salad for lunch. Brad keeps telling me I’m going to love my family to death with all this high calorie food. I’m trying to learn to cook with less fat, but most of the folks that stay here want southern cooking. I don’t think southern and healthy are in the same food group.”

  Molly laughed and heard Leslie laughing with her. Randy stepped over and hugged Tammy.

  Always the charmer, he said, “You, my dear, are an excellent cook and hostess. Don’t change a thing. I am at fault, because your meals are so delicious. I can’t help but stuff myself.”

  “You’re just the sweetest man.” A quick blush lit up Tammy’s cheeks. “Would you like some more coffee, while you work?”

  “That would be lovely. Let me help you clear the table.”

  Tammy turned to Molly. “Can I keep him?”

  Molly chuckled. “For as long as you like.”