Molly: House on Fire

by R. E. Bradshaw

  Molly almost repeated Shauna’s last comment, when she pulled into the driveway at Brad’s. It would not have the same connotation, but those were the words that flashed in Molly’s mind when she saw Leslie. She was stepping out of her car, as Molly rolled in. Leslie dropped the pen she was holding and bent over to retrieve it, giving Molly a look-see down the front of her shirt, and exposing a bit more than cleavage. Molly could have done without the little show, one more thing to distract her, but she enjoyed it just the same. Leslie, of course, was oblivious to the sneak peek she just gave Molly. She smiled and waved, as Molly parked the car.

  Leslie waited for Molly to exit the vehicle. Molly put the Walther back in the concealed compartment of her briefcase. Even staying in a cop’s house, she felt safer with the pistol nearby. She had the folder from the library in one hand and the briefcase in the other, when she walked up to Leslie. Molly was not paying attention to the folder, but Leslie was. Her smile turned to a frown, and she eyed Molly suspiciously.

  “Been to the old library, I see. Find what you were looking for?”

  Molly grinned. “I did, with the assistance of an old girlfriend of yours. She was very helpful.”

  “I’ll bet she was,” Leslie said, sarcastically. “And she uses the term girlfriend rather loosely.” Leslie turned and started for the back door.

  After a morning of seriousness, Molly was ready for a little playful banter, and seeing how much it bothered Leslie that she and Shauna had spoken made it that much more fun. “Oh, I don’t know. She explained your relationship very well.”

  Leslie wheeled around, her skin tone paling. “She did not, did she? I’m going to kill her.”

  “Watch it. I’ll have to testify you said that.”

  “What did she say, exactly?” Leslie asked, recovering her color and starting to blush.

  The blushing made this all the more fun for Molly. “Let’s see. You let her hang out with you, slept with her when you felt like it, and you’re married to your job. Also, something about not being good relationship material.”

  Leslie went from blushing to red-faced fairly quickly. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe she said that to you. I mean, how does that come up in conversation at the damn library?”

  Molly let go of the laughter she could no longer contain. Between chuckles, she said, “Relax, she more or less invited me to run naked through the stacks with her. I got away before she locked the door.” Molly stopped laughing, assuming a straight face and asked, “You didn’t do that with her, did you?”

  “Hell no!”

  Leslie’s reaction doubled Molly over. She was laughing so hard she could not take another step. This made Leslie laugh, too. They stood there bursting into laughter each time they made eye contact. Finally, Molly was able to breathe normally again.

  She said, “By the way, I left her with a research mission. I told her to call you, if she found anything.”

  Leslie looked confused. “Why would you tell her to call me?”

  Molly chuckled and started for the house. “I sure as hell wasn’t giving her my number.”

  Leslie fell in step with Molly, saying, “Good plan.”

  Molly had one more tidbit to throw out there. “Shauna said she had your number listed under, never again.”

  Leslie winked at Molly. “That’s probably because those are the last words I ever said to her.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Years,” Leslie replied, with a sly grin.

  Molly had overplayed her hand and was much too curious. With no need to feign disinterest now, Molly smiled and winked back. “Good to know.”

  The back door opened and Randy appeared. “Lunch is ready. Cobb salads, served with homemade croutons, and I helped.”

  Leslie said to Molly, “Not only handsome, he’s a domestic goddess too.”

  Molly looked up at Randy. “Don’t swell his head. He’s difficult enough to deal with.”

  Randy smiled, holding the door open for them. “I’m not difficult, I simply tell the truth, which sometimes you do not want to hear. And just for the record, I told you so.” He flicked a hand in the air and walked in front of them into the kitchen.

  Leslie looked at Molly. “What is he talking about?”

  Molly shrugged, pretending not to know. “I’m sure we’ll find out eventually.” She raised her volume so Randy was sure to hear. “He loves to leave things floating in the air for people to interpret as they will.”

  Randy did not turn around, but shot back, “When you least expect it,” followed by another dismissive hand flick in the air.

  Molly sounded like an eighth grader, dragging out a whining, “Shut up.”

  Leslie laughed. “You two are hilarious. You’re the perfect team.”

  Randy whipped around, beaming. “You should see us dance.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “The good news is, we’re not going to be hometowned by the judge and the district attorney in this case,” Randy said, sitting down at the parlor table.

  They had just finished lunch, which Molly thought was heavenly and it was not so heavy she could not breathe. It was a nice change from the fat laden previous meals. Molly joined the others in the parlor and took the seat across from Randy. Leslie sat beside him.

  Leslie asked, “What does hometowned mean?”

  Randy explained, “Attorneys coming from outside the county, any county, can sometimes be double-teamed by the local judge and the DA, sort of like home field advantage in sports.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Leslie complained.

  Randy waved a hand in the air. “Honey, it’s just like playing Duke at home in basketball. It’s not a fun place to be a visitor, but teams do win there. They just have to bring their A-game. Anyway, in our case the homeboy has just left to ride the circuit and we are getting a county virgin.”

  Molly, enchanted by the look of confusion on Leslie’s face, tried to help, explaining, “I’ll translate for you. In North Carolina, superior court judges rotate between districts or ‘ride the circuit.’ They rotate every six months to avoid favoritism. That way judges do not always hold court where they live, where they may have a personal interest in a case brought before them. The virgin comment means we have a judge making a first appearance in this county.”

  “This one is out of Lenoir County and she’s a she, Judge Gena Galloway. I dropped the change of attorney motion off this morning. We’re scheduled to appear on Monday afternoon at one.”

  “Wow, that was fast,” Molly said. “How did that happen?”

  “She had an opening and the clerk stuck us in there.”

  “Did you drop a copy at the prosecutor’s office?”

  Randy had been waiting to drop this bomb. “Oh, yes I did and I met the man himself. He’s an old closeted queen. I’d bet my house on it, and you know how much I love my house.”

  Molly chuckled. “Yes, I do. So, is he going to be a problem?”

  “I’ll answer that,” Leslie interjected. “James Ewell Bass, or Jeb, I kid you not, Stewart, is about to retire. He wants this case to be his legacy. He’s definitely going to be a problem.”

  “Jeb Stewart, like the Civil War general?” Randy asked.

  Leslie let out a little laugh. “Yes, the very same. His daddy was a Civil War nut, always organizing reenactments, right up to dying in the field hospital at eighty-five, after falling off a horse in the heat of battle.” She laughed again. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh about a man dying. I guess he went the way he wanted to.”

  “Probably,” Molly commented, her mind already sizing up her opponent.

  Randy was not finished. He saved the best for last. “Oh, he did tell me to tell you something.” Randy assumed his best good-’ol-boy accent. “You tell little Molly I said welcome back. I’m looking forward to delivering her first defeat right here in her hometown.”

  “Like I said, he’s going to be a problem,” Leslie repeated.

  “Molly’s not scar
ed of a puffed up prosecutor,” Randy said, with a bit of pride. “She’s made her career out of making them look incompetent.”

  “Thank you for your confidence,” Molly said, standing to un-tuck the shirttails from her waistband. She caught a glimpse of Leslie watching. Molly’s only comment was, “Now, let’s get to work.” She sat down again, turning to Randy. “I need you to go through all the affidavits filed in support of the search warrants and the arrest warrant. Also, familiarize yourself with the indictments. I read them. They’re pretty standard. Make sure they dotted their I’s and crossed their T’s. Also, highlight any mention of Joey’s mental state. We can use that to suggest prejudicial thinking, I’m sure that’s true in Detective Arnold’s case, at the least.”

  Flipping his laptop open, Randy said, “Okay, I’ll get started.” He started clicking keys, and then remembered something. “Oh, and I filed a motion for continued discovery of exculpatory evidence. That’s the only thing I saw the judge missed.”

  Molly smiled, winking. “Good boy.”

  Randy tilted his head to one side, a little dimple of his own showing. “You knew that was missing, didn’t you?” Molly just smiled. Randy straightened his head. “Okay, what do I get?”

  “What do you mean?” Molly asked.

  “I passed the first test. Where is my reward?”

  Boss Molly answered his question. “Your reward is remaining second chair in a capital murder case, when there are more qualified candidates to occupy it.”

  “Point made. I shall go to work now.” Randy focused on his tasks.

  Molly turned to Leslie. “Did you find Joe’s laptop?”

  “No, and I reported it stolen. I walked through the house with that detestable Detective Arnold. Thank goodness Brad was there. He kept his sexist remarks to a minimum.”

  The missing laptop was disappointing news to Molly. She asked, “Was anything else missing?”

  Leslie’s brow knitted. “No, it was strange. The files were tossed out of the cabinets, but they didn’t appear to be looking for anything. The house was ransacked but nothing taken, except Joe’s laptop.”

  “The rest was just to scare you,” Molly commented. She bit her bottom lip, contemplating, and then asked, “If Joey is such a computer geek, then he would have backed up Joe’s computer somewhere. We need to ask him about that. By the way, how was he this morning?”

  “About the same, confused, stressed, reminding the deputies when it’s time for everything. At least most of them know him, so they understand how he is. I’m so worried about him in there. How long will it be before it does permanent damage to the progress he’s made?”

  Molly could see how much Leslie cared for Joey. She reached across the table, touching one of Leslie’s fingers. “I’m going to get him out of there as soon as possible. You need to concentrate on what happens after I do. You worry about that and I’ll worry about the rest, deal?”

  Leslie covered Molly’s hand with hers. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

  Randy coughed, pulling Molly from the warmth of Leslie’s touch. She slid her hand away and said, “You’re thanking me, by helping Joey. That’s enough.” Molly’s cellphone rang. She saw Horace’s name on the screen. “I have to take this. Excuse me.”

  Molly stood and left the room for privacy. This was not the kind of call she could take in front of others. She answered the phone on the way to the porch.

  “I hope you found something,” she said into the phone.

  Horace’s gravelly voice came back, “As a matter of fact, I did. What we have here is a coin that shouldn’t exist.”

  “I knew that much,” Molly commented.

  “This is a three-dollar, gold coin manufactured at the Charlotte, North Carolina mint, probably in 1861.”

  Molly was confused. “Okay, so what’s so unusual about that?”

  “That’s the thing, Molly. No three-dollar gold coins were ever struck in Charlotte. They received the dies to make them in 1857, but not one was ever struck.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t struck somewhere else?” Molly asked.

  “The mint mark belongs to Charlotte. Unless it’s counterfeit, which my guy says is highly unlikely. A counterfeiter would have known to use the mintmark from an installation that actually produced these in 1861, which was Philadelphia. That mint used no mark at all on the Indian Princess. That’s what the guy called it. It’s supposed to be Liberty, but that sure looks like a headdress to me.”

  “So, does your guy think our Princess is real?”

  Molly heard Horace puffing on his cigar. She was pacing the front porch while talking to him, passing the parlor window several times. Randy and Leslie had their heads together and Molly could only hope they were discussing the case.

  “Here’s the deal, Molly. You know about the coin they found in Raleigh, right? Well, that presented a problem for collectors. When the Civil War broke out, the Confederates seized the Charlotte federal mint in May of ’61, and all the federal gold with it. A fury of coin striking ensued, before the mint was permanently closed in October. Somehow, these coins were minted and removed without an official record being made. If authenticated, the one in Raleigh might be worth at least a million. Finding two, suggests there may be more. This guy says there were very few real Princesses minted and they are highly sought after. A handful of uncirculated, here to fore, unknown coins could be worth a fortune.”

  Molly leaned back on the porch railing, where she was able to see into the parlor, without being too obvious. She watched Randy and Leslie intently examining a document, while she listened to Horace and processed what he was saying.

  She asked, “How do you authenticate a coin that doesn’t exist?” Molly heard Horace puff the cigar. “When are you going to quit smoking those things?” It was an often-repeated question.

  Horace cleared his throat, which wasn’t the least bit pleasant to hear, and replied as usual, “When I die, sweetheart, and to answer your other question, we need the mint dies. My guy says if we had those, we could match the coins. They may be worth a lot anyway, without real proof of their origin, but a provenance would send the price out the roof.”

  Molly sighed. “And of course you’re going to tell me the mint dies are long gone.”

  Horace chuckled. “I would say that, but yesterday I would have told you this coin didn’t exist, so who says those dies aren’t still out there.”

  “The family with the other coin has a connection to the Charlotte mint. Do you know how, or who they are?”

  “My guy says it was a coiner, that’s the job title for the man that operated the coin press. His name was Giles Banhalla — damned if I know if I’m pronouncing that right. I’ll spell it out in an email — anyway, the family genealogist says this guy, Giles, moved from Charlotte after the mint closed. Any guesses where he went?”

  Molly did not have to guess. “Dobbs County.”

  “What a coincidence, right?” Horace’s hoarse chuckle rang in Molly’s ear.

  “You taught me not to believe in coincidences,” Molly replied.

  “That’s right, I did. Find out what Giles was doing in Dobbs County. Try the county records. You might be able to find out where he lived and who his associates were. It’s worth a shot.”

  Molly smiled into the phone. “I have just the person to give that little project to.”

  Horace changed the subject, rather abruptly. “So, have your planned your strategy, yet?”

  Molly let out a chuckle. “Which one? I have several things going on, at the moment.”

  “I’ve been thinking, Molly. There is only one person alive that knows what happened in that house. Not a single soul to testify against you for anything.”

  Molly turned away from the window. “I’m going to exhume my mother’s body. When I do, Jarvis Branch will probably exhume his brother. He as much said so. I’ll have no choice then. There wasn’t much left of Evan Branch, but I bet his skull is there. That’s all they’ll need.”r />
  “You could still claim no knowledge of what happened to him,” he paused, letting out a sigh, “but I know you and I know you can’t live with it any longer.”

  “No, I can’t. I haven’t exactly lived a lie, but I haven’t lived the truth either. I’m tired of wondering when my past would catch up with me. It’s time to set things right, Horace. I’ll take the consequences.”

  “Molly, do you know the only thing you’re guilty of?” Horace asked, his voice soft and warm, like the nights they worked side by side, him teaching, her learning.

  “What is that?”

  “You’re guilty of being a good daughter and doing what you were told. No matter how this plays out, you just remember that.” She heard the emotion in his voice. He covered it with a laugh. “Hey, if need be, I’ll come out of retirement and ruffle some of those feathers at the Bar association.”

  Molly turned around to face the window again, as she said, “I hope that isn’t necessary.”

  Leslie was standing on the other side of the glass, looking back at her. She looked concerned, but smiled at Molly. Holding up one finger, to indicate she was almost finished, Molly smiled back. Molly walked to the front door, while finishing her conversation with Horace.

  “Thank you and thank ‘your guy’ for me.” Molly knew better than to ask the guy’s identity. Horace had some shady associates. She wound the conversation to a close with, “I really appreciate your help, Horace. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Horace was done being sentimental and returned to his natural state of uncouthness. “So, Kincaid, did you get laid, yet?”

  Molly grabbed the handle on the door about the time Leslie pulled it open. Molly grinned and said to Horace, “I’m working on it. I’ll keep you informed. Thanks again, bye.” She hung up before Horace could say anything else.

  Leslie started talking as soon as she saw Molly drop the phone from her ear. “The inventory of what the police took from Cheryl’s scene, it includes Joey’s desktop, his laptop, and Cheryl’s laptop,” she said, stepping aside to allow Molly to enter the house. “Randy says you need to file a motion to examine them forensically.”