Molly: House on Fire

by R. E. Bradshaw

  He stood up and joined Tammy and Randy at the jukebox. Molly stared into the mirror at Leslie’s reflection. Leslie’s expression had not changed. The bartender came back to stand in front of them. She looked at Molly and then at Leslie, sizing up the situation. She leaned down, resting her forearms on the bar.

  “I see. It’s not that crazy bitch Shauna this time.” She presented her hand for Molly to shake. “Hi, my name’s Bev.”

  Molly shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Bev. I’m Molly.”

  “You’re that lawyer representing Joey, right?” Molly nodded in agreement, while taking another swig of beer. “I thought so. Shauna was in here last night going on about you.”

  Leslie smirked and grunted.

  “Not Leslie’s favorite person, in case you didn’t know,” Bev said to Molly. She chuckled at Leslie. “Still paying for that little indiscretion, aren’t ya’?”

  Leslie raised one eyebrow and took a drink.

  Bev looked at Molly and then back at Leslie. She stood up straight, putting it together rather quickly, like the experienced bartender she was. “Ah, I see. The lady lawyer here is getting under your skin.” She trained her eyes on Molly. “If you got the where-with-all to wrestle this one to the ground, then my hat’s off to ya’.” She threw her head back and laughed loudly. “Good luck.”

  Bev left to take care of her customers, trailing laughter down the bar. Molly grinned and was met by Leslie’s cold stare in the mirror. She turned to face Leslie and was about to say something, when she saw Tammy at the other end of the bar. Tammy spoke to Bev, who turned to a control knob on the wall, and cranked up the volume on the jukebox. Taylor Swift was finishing up her latest hit. If Molly were going to say something to Leslie, now, she would have to shout or lean in very close. She did not want to shout and being within striking distance did not look like a good idea, at the moment.

  Molly heard the tinkling piano introduction of the next song and knew Randy had picked that one. He was suddenly at her elbow, pulling her off the stool toward the tiny dance floor. Little Richard pounded the keys and let loose with the first, “Good Golly, Miss Molly,” just as Randy twirled Molly onto the floor. She stopped fighting him and gave in, letting him lead her through the fast-paced jive, quick stepping and twirling in the little space. Randy was an excellent dancer and so was Molly. They danced together before, so they moved in effortless unison. For a few minutes, Molly forgot her troubles and cut loose.

  Randy gathered her into a hug at the end of the dance. He whispered in her ear, “Now, Miss Molly, go get your girl.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  They arrived back at the bar to applause from Brad and Tammy.

  Tammy shouted over the next song, “You guys are terrific. Better than Dancing With the Stars.” She patted Molly’s arm and winked. “Leslie can dance, too.”

  Molly leaned down so she could speak into Tammy’s ear. “She’s not too fond of me right now. Besides, can two women dance together in here?”

  Tammy strained on her tiptoes to get close to Molly’s ear. “This is a gay friendly place. Nobody cares.”

  Molly straightened, giving Tammy a surprised look. Tammy pulled her back down.

  “We’re not all backward hicks down here.” She pointed the top of her beer bottle at Leslie. “And I wouldn’t pay too much attention to this little fit she’s throwing. Trust me, she likes you.”

  A few line dancers were on the dance floor, stepping out a well-rehearsed routine to the Dixie Chicks’ “Sin Wagon.” A tall, handsome man, dressed in jeans and a blue denim shirt, asked Leslie to join him on the dance floor, which she did, falling in line with the others, step for step. Molly sat down on the bar stool and sipped her beer, watching. Leslie started having fun, but cut her eyes at Molly once on a turn.

  Randy leaned in close, saying, “Oh my God, she can dance too. If you let this one get away, I will never forgive you.”

  Molly had just enough alcohol on board to propel her off the stool. She stepped in line beside Leslie, and was quickly following her fast paced steps. After the first time through the pattern, Molly stopped watching her feet, and relaxed into the rhythm. Molly was making an effort and Leslie recognized it. She finally gave in and smiled. When the song finished, they walked back to the bar together and spent the next hour laughing and talking over the music with their friends. Nothing else was said about their confrontation on the porch, until the walk home.

  Molly and Leslie followed a few steps behind the others. They were quiet, only small talk passing between them, when Molly reached for Leslie’s hand. She held it as they walked. Molly hoped this small act would make up for her behavior earlier and that they would not have to talk about it. That was the part about women Molly had the least success with. Women needed to be talked to and held, listened to and made to feel special. They wanted to know what Molly was thinking. She rarely was thinking what they wanted her to, so she avoided that part of relationships like the plague. Since Stephanie, whenever a woman started wanting to know what was on Molly’s mind, usually as it pertained to the woman herself, Molly disappeared, on to the next. If she wanted things to be different with Leslie, Molly was going to have to change. Leslie must have been reading her mind.

  Leslie squeezed her hand. “I get it, Molly. Baby steps.”

  Molly smiled over at Leslie, as they walked, shoulders touching now. “I think I might require some intensive training.”

  Leslie dropped Molly’s hand and looped her arm through Molly’s, leaning into her. “I think I can help with that.”

  They arrived at the house, said their good nights, and climbed the stairs together. When they reached the third floor, Molly pulled Leslie toward her bedroom door, but Leslie balked.

  “Wait, Molly.”

  Molly realized what Leslie was thinking. She pulled Leslie into her arms, smiling at her. “I’ll be a little smoother than that when the time comes. I just wanted you to follow me.”

  A nervous laugh followed Leslie’s, “Oh.”

  Molly took Leslie’s hand and led her through the room and up into the tower. At the top, Molly stood behind Leslie, wrapping her arms around her waist, and pulling her close. She turned her three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees, showing her the lights, while speaking softly into her ear.

  “When I was a child, I stood on the street outside this house, dreaming of this view. I spent the last twenty-nine years praying I would never see it. I’m not sorry I came here, for one simple reason.” She turned Leslie around so they were facing each other. “You.”

  Molly slid a hand in the small of Leslie’s back, the other to her face, and gently pulled her to her lips. This was it, the first big kiss, and Molly felt it all the way to her toes. Leslie pressed into her, and sparks burst into flames before Molly’s closed eyes. Their lips melted together, deepening the kiss, and when Molly’s tongue met Leslie’s, a tiny groan vibrated against her chest. Stephanie had sent Molly’s heart racing, but nothing in Molly’s experience prepared her for the power of Leslie’s kiss. Her knees became weak, her body began to tremble, but she held on, pulling Leslie closer. Leslie returned the kiss and pressed harder into Molly. No kiss ever felt like this. No woman had ever fit so perfectly in her arms. They had to stop, or Molly’s knees were going to fail to her.

  She lifted her lips from Leslie’s, breathless, opening her eyes to stop the light show playing on her lids. Leslie’s lips curled into a smile, as she gazed into Molly’s face. Then Leslie laid her head on Molly’s shoulder, whispering into to her neck.

  “That was definitely worth waiting for.”

  Molly hugged Leslie tighter, saying, “Yes, it most certainly was.” She pulled Leslie’s chin up and looked at her, studying the woman that had just stolen her heart. Molly then did what Randy suggested. She followed that heart and said what she was really thinking. “I’ve been waiting for that kiss my whole life.”

  Leslie grasped the magnitude of the statemen
t immediately. She wrapped her arms around Molly’s neck, locking her eyes on Molly’s. Molly watched as Leslie’s eyes danced back and forth, studying her, searching. Finding what she wanted, it was Leslie pulling Molly toward her this time, controlling the tempo and depth of the kiss. Molly surrendered on the spot. She felt it, the healing of old hurts, the restoration of faith, the release of giving up, giving in, and letting someone love her. It hit like a flash of lightening, followed by earth shaking thunder.

  Leslie suddenly jerked her head away, shouting, “Oh, my God!”

  Molly saw the flames reflecting in Leslie’s eyes and turned to where she was looking. Fire licked at the edge of the front porch roof. Smoke was rising toward them. Molly grabbed Leslie’s hand and did not let go as they tore down the tower stairs. They sprinted through the bedroom and down to the second floor, shouting to the others in the house. Randy heard the explosion, too and was standing on the landing, dazed from sleep. Molly pushed him.

  “Go! The house is on fire.”

  Tammy shouted up from the first floor, “Go out the back. The front porch is on fire.”

  They ran out of the house together, except for Brad, who Molly discovered already in the yard with a hose trained on the front of his house. She could hear sirens closing in on them and tried to make sense of what was happening.

  Tammy, in her house robe and slippers, explained, “Somebody threw a Molotov cocktail at the porch.”

  Leslie hugged Tammy. “It’s going to be all right. They’re almost here.”

  Molly felt awful. She brought this on Brad and his family. Randy put his arm around her shoulder, saying nothing. The fire trucks blasted horns and the sirens blared down the street, as neighbors started coming out of their houses in various states of dress. The flashing lights strobed through the neighborhood, and Molly felt helpless. The fire trucks stopped on the street and fire fighters leapt into action. Quickly a hose was connected to the closest hydrant. Soon the steady deluge of water drowned the flames into submission.

  Coming full circle, standing in Dobbs County, watching firemen clean up after a fire, Molly felt her rage building. The fire caused mostly smoke damage and a section of the porch decking would have to be replaced, but luckily, the bottle of fuel had been small. That did not negate the fact that someone threw it in the first place. Molly stepped from under Randy’s arm and turned to face her friends. Brad had joined Tammy, holding her against him. Leslie and Randy exchanged looks.

  “I don’t know what I’ve stumbled into here. I’ve seen the looks in people’s faces. They’re apprehensive, waiting for something to happen. Why? What the hell is going on in this county?”

  Brad spoke up, “It’s Branch. He’s behind all this.”

  Molly came as close to breaking Rainey’s trust as she could. “He may have thrown that bottle, but he’s not the man making decisions. Jarvis Branch is somebody’s tool.”

  “Whose?” Tammy asked, innocently, as if Molly could tell her.

  Molly narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m damn sure going to find out.”

  #

  After the fireman left, no one wanted to sleep. Tammy did what she did best. She made breakfast at midnight, which counteracted the effects of the alcohol, but everyone was still wide-awake. Molly went to the parlor with Randy. They gathered everything together, carrying it back to the family room. If they were awake, they might as well work, at least that was what Molly was going to do. They were all looking at Molly for direction, so she gave it to them.

  “I can’t tell you what I know or how I know it, but you have to trust me when I tell you this goes way beyond Jarvis Branch. The man we are looking for has or is connected with power in this county. I believe the person who killed Cheryl, and my vote is Jarvis, is being manipulated by this man.” She pointed at the files and computers on the coffee table in front of her. “Somewhere in here we have the answer. There is a thread of connection and it’s probably the gold. It could be something else though. We have to find it.”

  Leslie grabbed a file. “What should I look for?”

  “Read everything. Every word. Make notes on people that pop up regularly. For example, Judge Whitehall.”

  All heads in the room turned to her with shocked looks. Molly shrugged. “He knows more than he’s telling. I don’t know why I think that, but my instincts have served me well in the past. I know he’s involved in this somehow. I’m just not sure to what extent.”

  “Judge Whitehall?” Tammy said in disbelief.

  “Yes, and I need to investigate Stewart, too. He’s getting money from somewhere. Unless his family had money, he’s holding way too much real estate.”

  Brad commented, “You’re right there, Molly. The Sheriff’s office has investigated him several times, but the Chief of the Police here in town protects him. You won’t have any trouble with the county cops, but the city police, now that’s a different story. That department is so eaten up with corruption, the Sheriff asked the state to look into it.”

  “What happened?” Molly asked.

  “Stewart happened. He quashed the investigation, claiming it was interfering with his office’s investigation of the department.”

  Molly smiled. “And the results of his investigation found nothing, right?”

  Leslie added her two cents. “Everybody knows those two are tight. They’re cousins and watch each other’s backs.”

  Randy was jotting down notes. He looked up from his legal pad. “What’s the Chief’s name? We’ll need to check him out, too.”

  Brad answered, “Wayne Bass.”

  Molly remembered something Horace said. “I need to know who was here in 1862 and still has family here now.” She turned to Leslie. “That’s what I wanted you to find out at the library.”

  Tammy grew very excited. “I can find that out for you. I’ve been working on my family genealogy. All that stuff is on the Internet.”

  This was news to Molly. Of course, she never cared about her own genealogy and had no reason to know what was available. “You can access property tax and census records?”

  “Oh, yes. There are county records online back to the 1700s. Marriage, death, court records, voter registration, it’s all there and searchable.”

  “Okay then,” Molly said, sitting down beside Leslie on the couch. “Tammy, you start by tracing Giles Banhalla. He arrived in the county after October of 1861. I want to know everything you can find out about him.” She paused, thinking, and then asked, “Can you tell who he lived near, his associates, that sort of thing?”

  Tammy broke into a big smile. “I can tell people stuff about their families they would never want to know. There is a lot to be read between the lines.”

  “Great. That’s exactly what we need to do, read between the lines.”

  Tammy scampered over to her desktop computer. Molly picked up her laptop, inserting the flash drive with her mother’s records. She looked at Brad.

  “Can you access department records from here?”

  “Some of them.”

  “I would like very much to see anything pertaining to Amber Stovall Branch’s death. She died on January 9, 1989.”

  Brad nodded and opened his own laptop. It was Randy’s turn for instructions.

  “Randy, you do what you do best, follow the money. Find out what Stewart is up to.”

  Randy smiled at her. “Honey, it will be my pleasure to delve into that guy’s closet. I bet I find more than money, though.” He winked at Molly.

  Usually Molly would not use sexuality as a weapon, but someone was trying to kill them, or at least scare them off. “Whatever you can find. Gloves off, understood?”

  Randy answered enthusiastically, “Yes, ma’am,” and opened his laptop.

  Leslie sat waiting patiently for instructions. Molly smiled at her and placed an arm around Leslie’s shoulder, pulling her close to her side. Leslie returned the smile and snuggled close.

  “You are going to help me decipher medical records,” Mol
ly began with a smile, but dropped it when she said, “Some of this is going to be hard to read.”

  Molly moved the mouse over the flash drive icon and clicked. She opened the first document from Sarah’s initial stay at Berryhill Hospital. She saw Leslie read the top of the page and realize what it was. She turned to Molly, comprehending what they were going to do.

  “I’ll try to help you understand,” Leslie said softly.

  Molly leaned over and whispered in Leslie ear, “You know, when that bottle exploded, I thought you made the earth move.”

  Leslie turned to look at her and winked. “Not yet, but I have a feeling it will.”

  Molly did something completely out of character. She kissed Leslie gently on the lips, in a room with other people looking. No one said anything, but Randy did chuckle.

  Molly smiled at Leslie and said, “How am I doing with my training?”

  Leslie squeezed Molly’s thigh, laughing. “You’re progressing at an accelerated rate.”

  Molly grinned, and turned back to the computer screen. “Good, let’s get this mystery solved and get back to that.”

  Leslie settled in beside Molly and the room went quiet, except for the tapping on keyboards. Molly’s little army was hard at work, she had the woman of her dreams next to her, and although someone was trying to kill her, Molly could not remember ever feeling so complete. She smiled to herself, hearing Randy’s words in her head, “When you least expect it.” He was so right. Molly never thought the one she was looking for would be found in Dobbs County, literally the last place on earth she would have looked. Here she was back where it all began, falling in love with a girl from her hometown. Now, if she could just keep them alive long enough to enjoy it.

  #

  Molly studied her mother’s Berryhill paperwork with Leslie, into the early morning hours. While she was at the hospital, Molly asked who paid Sarah’s bill and was told there were no records. Curious, she thought. Sarah’s miraculous recovery was due to a new doctor that recognized her traumas as the underlying cause of her addictions, and helped her heal. They were now reading the files from Memorial Hospital. Slowly the heads in the room nodded off, laptops went to sleep, and random snores broke the silence. Only Tammy stayed diligently at her task. Leslie’s head rested on Molly’s shoulder. She succumbed to the sleepless night, moments before. Leslie had been horrified at the abuse of Sarah Harris, both by the system and at the hands of Evan Branch. She did not say much, but her gasps and squeezes to Molly’s arm were enough to let her know when to take note of something on a page.