Molly: House on Fire

by R. E. Bradshaw

  Molly looked down the driveway. Leslie should have been right behind her. She turned back to Tammy. “Hey, did you see Leslie and Randy?”

  Tammy stopped on the steps with a bag of groceries in her hands. “Oh yeah, they went out to Leslie’s parent’s. Her dad has a big glow-in-the-dark clock she wanted to pick up for Joey. They should be back in about thirty minutes.”

  Molly saw the thought cross Danny and Rainey’s minds too. They should not have gone off alone. Molly was going to kill Randy for letting Leslie do that. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, hitting Randy’s speed dial number. It went straight to voice mail.

  Brad called out to her. “That part of the county has a cell void. The phone company can’t figure it out.” He stepped around the van with two bags in his hands. He must have seen something in Molly’s expression to warrant his saying, “They’ll be fine, Molly. You’re not the only one that can drive like a bat out of hell. They won’t catch her. Besides, I think the bounty is on your head, not hers.”

  Rainey scanned the surroundings, placing a hand in Molly’s back, and pushing her toward the house. Her tone was ominous, as she said quietly, “Let’s get inside.”

  Molly cast one more look down the driveway. “Rainey, send someone after her.”

  Danny had his phone to his ear. “Already on it.” He shouted at Brad. “Hey, I need to know where Leslie went.”

  He walked to where Brad was standing, leaving Molly alone with Rainey.

  Molly could not believe Leslie would make herself vulnerable. “Why would she do that? She knows we’re all in danger.”

  Rainey offered Molly a little humor to ease the anxiety now permeating the air. “I tell you, Molly. We have to get better control of our women. When they feel passionate about something, they just won’t listen. I’m always being accused of looking for the imaginary boogeyman.”

  Molly stopped walking, and looked back one more time. “But you and I know the boogeyman is real, Rainey.”

  #

  Molly informed Rainey that she had been right about the fire and Molly not killing Evan Branch. Rainey just shrugged, when Molly asked how she knew.

  “I figured at the most you knocked him out, at the worst, they burned him alive in the fire. Either way, you’re not responsible for his death. Your initial act was in defense of another. No crime there.”

  Molly listened to Rainey and Danny talk about the serial cases. She was not really paying attention. She kept checking the clock on the wall, counting the minutes Leslie and Randy had been gone. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Danny’s phone rang.

  He answered and listened, and then started to laugh, ending the conversation with, “Okay, well, follow them here.”

  He hung up and smiled at Molly. “They had a hell of time catching her, but they’re at the jail, now. Leslie is dropping off the clock. They should be here in a few minutes.”

  When Randy and Leslie walked in the back door, Molly lit into them. “What part of we’re in danger did you two not understand?”

  Randy put his hands up in surrender. “I told her not to do it. I was just a passenger. A frightened passenger, I might add. She was fleeing from blue lights with me in the car.”

  Leslie said, in her defense, “An unmarked SUV with blue lights. I wasn’t stopping out in the middle of nowhere. I saw what that man did to Molly, Saturday.”

  Molly was not placated. “Exactly why you shouldn’t be going off alone.”

  Leslie countered. “I wasn’t alone. Randy was with me.”

  Rainey patted Molly on the shoulder. “See, it’s no use. Just give up. They do what they do. You can’t control them.”

  Molly was so mad she could not speak another word without losing her cool. She turned and left the room, going upstairs to change her clothes. She heard Rainey speak on her way out.

  “Leave her alone a minute. You scared her.”

  Molly calmed down while she changed into jeans and a tee shirt. Leslie had scared her, frightened Molly beyond words. Being in danger herself was nothing compared to the fear of losing Leslie. Molly had known that kind of fear before when Evan would beat her mother, or finding her passed out, not knowing if she would survive. Leslie had no way of knowing how terrorizing that feeling was. She had no frame of reference. Nothing bad ever happened to Leslie or the people she loved.

  Leslie was waiting on the top step of the third floor landing, when Molly came out of her room. She was shy and sheepish, staring at her feet. Molly sat down beside her.

  “I’m sorry, Molly. I didn’t think.”

  Molly put her arm around Leslie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that.”

  Leslie leaned into her, placing her head on Molly’s shoulder. “I’ll be glad when this is over and we can just get on with our lives.”

  “Me too,” Molly replied, adding, “I’m going to need a vacation after this. Where do you want to go?”

  Leslie raised her head to look at Molly. “I know you can afford to take me anywhere, but I’d rather just go home with you.”

  Molly could not help the smile that engulfed her face. “Are you sure? What about Joey?”

  “I’m not a full-time care giver. That’s not my job. My mission is to make him self-sufficient and provide him with assistance, like finding someone to help him at home. I can check on him every day. It’s not like Durham is that far away. I commuted from here to Chapel Hill for my last couple of years in school.”

  Molly did not like the idea of Leslie being on the road that much, but she would take what she could get until other arrangements could be made. She hugged Leslie to her. “I can’t believe we were so close to each other all these years and never knew the other existed.”

  “You wouldn’t have paid any attention to me,” Leslie said, laughing. “I never traveled in those social circles.”

  “That’s funny. If I had stayed here, I would not have been in your social circle.”

  “Then we met each other at the right time,” Leslie said, kissing Molly on the cheek.

  Molly stood up, pulling Leslie to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go solve a crime, so we can go on that vacation.” Molly took two steps down the stairs. She stopped and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere like Paris, or Rome?”

  “Later, we have the rest of our lives to do those things. Right now, I just want to get back to that fantasy in the panic room.”

  “I thought you said that didn’t work for you, because you know who I am,” Molly teased.

  Leslie laughed, and resumed her descent. “Who says my fantasy wasn’t about you?”

  Molly bounded past her, saying, “I have a few fantasies of my own about you and that house.”

  “Oh yeah, which room?” Leslie said, following close on Molly’s heels.

  Molly jumped to the last few steps to the second floor landing, spinning to face Leslie with a grin. “All of them.”

  #

  With the judge’s order in hand, and escorted by the deplorable Detective Arnold, Molly and Rainey entered Joe Webb’s house. She managed to get a little dig in, as he held the door open for them.

  “Detective Arnold, did anyone ever investigate the anonymous caller that reported the disturbance at the time of the murder?”

  He shrugged. “It was anonymous, from a throw away cellphone. Nothing to investigate.”

  “What exactly did the caller say?” Molly asked, already knowing the answer, having seen the transcript of the call.

  “Said a woman was screaming. The officer got here and found your boy standing over his mother covered in blood and holding the knife that killed her. Pretty cut and dry if you ask me.”

  Molly smirked at him. “I would just like to know how she was screaming with a snapped neck. There wasn’t much of a struggle. It was made to look that way. Maybe cut and dry isn’t the best way to describe this case.”

  Rainey chimed in, “More like, convenient suspect.”

  Arnold puffed
out his chest. “I don’t need some voodoo analyst to tell me how to do my job. That boy is as crazy as they come. He did it and you ain’t going to be able to get him off. This ain’t your playground. Nobody asked the FBI to get involved.”

  Molly narrowed her eyes and said, “Maybe somebody should.” She did not give him time to retort. “Stay here by the door. The order says I have to turn over physical evidence. It does not mean you can listen to what is discussed or observe the search.”

  He was angry, but complied. They left everyone else at Brad and Tammy’s. Before leaving, Molly shared the information she received at the pharmacy and looked up the owner of the Dodge Challenger on Joe’s list. Chief Bass owned that car in 1972. It meant he might have been there when her mother was attacked. It did not, however, prove that he was. Molly needed more. She also called Donald and Carol, in the off chance national news picked up her appearance in court. Stories about exhuming bodies tended to attract attention. She didn’t think the story was out, but Molly needed to tell her parents anyway. Carol put the phone on speaker and they talked to her together, listened to the whole ordeal, and told her how much they loved her. Molly told them she loved them too, and she meant it more now than ever.

  Now at Joe’s, Molly watched as Rainey carried a folder with crime scene photos through the house. She walked the scene, not talking, just observing. After a few minutes in the dining room where the murder took place, Rainey followed the trail of debris through the house. She examined every room, even the back porch, completing her search in Joe’s room. They were both wearing gloves to avoid leaving prints if they found something, but Molly’s hands had been in her jacket pockets the whole time. Rainey touched nothing, except a flowerpot she studied for a while on the back porch.

  She closed the folder in Joe’s room. Finally she spoke. “He came in the back door. It’s the family custom to leave a key under the flowerpot on the porch. He unlocked the door and put the key back. That pot had not been moved for a long time. There is a new ring there now. You can verify it with Joey, but I bet that key has been unused for quite some time.”

  Molly commented, “We need to take a picture of that before we leave, and as loathe as I am to tell that fat bastard anything, we should inform Detective Arnold.”

  Rainey laughed. “After years of dealing with those types, I have become immune.” She moved over by the far wall, examining Joe’s desk, while she talked. “He surprised her in the dining room. He didn’t think. He reacted. There was no skin under her nails, no pre-mortem injuries. She did not fight because she was dead in seconds. The guy you’re looking for, not the boss but the tool, is not a careful thinker. He is ruthless, but not smart. Does that make sense?”

  Molly nodded that it did. Rainey continued, as she opened the closet and looked inside.

  “The man I’m describing to you is capable of murder whenever he is threatened. He may not seek out victims, but if they have something he wants or present a problem for him, he will kill and clean up later. After the initial rush, he panicked. Then you have this completely different scene layered over the original crime. Now, that part was hard for him at first, but by the end, he was in a mad frenzy. Had he followed his instructions, he would not have made as big a mess.”

  Molly commented, “The other scenes were more controlled.”

  Molly and Rainey had walked scenes together before. It worked best if she just let Rainey talk. She would sometimes ask a question, but mostly Molly let Rainey do what she did best, get into the mind of a criminal. Part of the process was learning about the victim, as well. She watched Rainey focus on Joe’s bed and waited. Soon Rainey began to describe what she was seeing.

  “This man was dying. Everyone knew it. Look at the cards by the bed. There are a few get-well cards, but most have generic fronts. You don’t tell a dying man to get well with a cheery card. If you read them, I’m sure they will express sorrow, not hope. His death was imminent and for some reason it made the person who broke in here desperate, afraid Joe Webb would go to his grave with the answer this man seeks.”

  Who notices things like that? Molly was always impressed on these walkthroughs with Rainey. She followed Rainey’s eyes around the room.

  “A dying man on a mission can be a dangerous thing. He has nothing to lose. He will confess his sins and those of others, cleansing himself and righting wrongs. He needs to stand for something at the end of his life. He will also reflect on that life. He will look through old pictures or videos, listen to favorite music. If he can, he will go places that made him happy once, revisiting memories precious to him. He will cling to things that help him remember.”

  Molly saw Rainey studying a shoebox by the bed. The contents of the box had been dumped on the floor. Rainey knelt next to the pile of mix-matched objects, picking them up one by one.

  “Didn’t you say Joe was divorced?” Rainey asked, setting a bottle of nail polish back on the floor.

  “Yes, but Cheryl lived here. That could be hers,” Molly reasoned.

  “Why would he keep a bottle of nail polish, tweezers, a nail file, lipstick, an old package of tissue, a half eaten roll of antacids, and what looks like the stuff in the bottom of Katie’s purse, and why next to his bed?” Rainey looked at the pile again, and then leaned further down to look under the bed. She reached a gloved hand beneath the frame, pulling out a small black purse. Standing, Rainey examined the purse closely. “This is old, at least twenty years.”

  Molly held out her hand. “Let me see it.”

  Rainey handed Molly the purse. Molly had a suspicion. She opened the purse and reached inside, pulling up the vinyl covered piece of cardboard at the bottom. It popped up with ease, as if the owner had frequently performed the same maneuver. On the bottom of the cardboard, the vinyl covering was slit open. Molly smiled and then explained to Rainey.

  “My mother used to hide money from Evan in what she called her secret compartment. He didn’t like her having money. He wanted her totally dependent on him. She said he could search all day, but he’d never think to look under this piece of cardboard.”

  “Joe must have loved your mother very much. He wanted her close in the end.”

  “I guess he took this after she died. No one cared about her personal belongings.”

  “He did.” Rainey nodded toward a picture on the wall over Joe’s bed. It was of a little blond girl, holding a catfish almost as tall as she was, and wearing Molly’s dimple.

  Molly looked in her mother’s secret place. There was a small envelope. She pulled it out carefully, seeing her name and the Kincaids’ former Durham address handwritten on the front. The return address was Sarah Harris’s residence, the one the judge had torn down. Rainey saw Molly’s name too.

  “Molly, you need to read that alone. I’m going to step out of the room. I’ll be right outside.”

  Rainey left the room, without waiting for a response from Molly, who stood fixated on the handwriting spelling out her name. The last hand to hold this envelope was her mother’s. What would the contents reveal? What did Sarah Harris have to say to the daughter she gave away? Molly found a wooden chair in the corner of the room and sat down, removing her latex gloves. She opened the envelope, and slid the pages out. After a deep inhale and slow exhale of breath, Molly began to read.

  March 10, 1991

  Dear Molly,

  I hardly know where to begin to say the things I need to say to my daughter. You were always that, Molly. I never stopped loving you. In three days, you will turn eighteen. I will legally be able to contact you again. I have been clean and sober for more than three years. I have a job and I’ve been taking college classes. I’m me again, someone I’m afraid you never knew.

  I’ve kept up with you. Carol sends a letter once a year, and I buy the Durham paper to catch glimpses of you playing sports, winning awards. I am so proud of you and I owe the Kincaids so much for taking such good care of you. I will understand if you do not want me to interfere with the wonderful life you have n
ow. I will send this one letter on your birthday. If I don’t hear from you, I will know not to contact you again.

  Molly stopped reading and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Another deep breath and she began again.

  I need to say some things to you, maybe answer some of your questions. First, I am so very sorry for the way you had to live when you were young. I was sick, but that’s no excuse for what I put you through. I don’t know how you survived, but you did. You were a marvel from day one. So tiny and fragile, but you were strong. You willed yourself to succeed and you’ve accomplished that with no help from me.

  This next part is very difficult and I would not tell you, if I didn’t think I owed you the truth. Evan Branch was not your father. I discovered some things very recently, and I will explain it all to you if you want. I don’t think it is something I should tell you in this letter. What I will tell you is that you did not kill Evan, I did. I killed him after I made you leave. I made you lie to keep from going to prison. I let you think you killed him and that was a terrible thing to do to a child. You wanted to tell the truth, but I couldn’t let you. I should have listened to you. For the pain this has caused, I will forever be sorry.

  The day of the fire, I gave you a key. I told you it was the key to my heart. It was in a way, but it is something else, as well. I know you kept it. You promised you would and you always kept your promises. Evan’s father gave me that safe deposit box key before he died. He told me I could not open the box without several people present. Evan was one of those people and he tried to kill me over that key. After he was dead, I was still afraid of his mother and brother. I don’t know what is in that box. The old man said it would keep you safe, as long as I had it. I think it might have something to do with that gold piece you buried under the step, when you thought I wasn’t looking. I hope you come back to get it. I left it there for you. The safe deposit box is in the Waitesville Savings and Loan. It’s yours Molly, if you want it.