Murder in the Family

by Ramona Richards

  A shadow on the porch made her back into the door with a startled squeak.

  Greg put out his hand, palm out. “Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean … I thought you might want an escort to the party. Maybe.”

  Molly pressed a hand to her chest as she caught her breath. “I’m still a little skittish about people surprising me on the porch.” Then she smiled, glad they had made their peace while Michael was still here. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “For everything.”

  He held out his arm. “You were going through a lot.”

  She slid her hand inside his elbow. “And I put you through a lot.”

  “All in the past.”

  “Good. I hope you win the next election.”

  He laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it. The good folks of Carterton and Pine County adore me. Even when I don’t catch the bad guys.”

  “You will.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve turned most of the jewelry over to the Gadsden PD. Their case, the crimes happened there, and they’ll investigate. I’ll help, since it was found here, but I’ll be sharing jurisdiction with them. I’m mostly in the info-gathering stage at this point, unless they turn up video or fingerprints.”

  The noise of the party overtook them, and they separated as Finn threw up his arms, still grasping grilling utensils, and declared, “There she is! Woman of the hour!”

  Heat rose in Molly’s face as she stepped forward to receive a hug from him. A cheerful buzz surrounded them, as people closed in to wish her well. Molly got the impression that there were more than three times as many people as at the last cookout. After a few minutes, Finn herded them back away from her. “Hear, hear! Let the woman find some food. She looks as if she’s going to wither away before the night is out.”

  She thanked him as folks gave her room, then glanced around for either Greg or Russell. Neither was in sight, although she’d seen Russell at the edge of the crowd earlier. She accepted a plate with a burger on it, made the round of picnic tables for chips and veggies, then settled into a chair next to Linda. “This is quite the crowd. How in the world can they afford to do this?”

  Linda laughed. “Believe me, there are plenty of behind-the-scenes donations for tonight.” She paused, her face losing its glee. “And a lot of people in this community have adopted you. They admire that you came back to take care of Liz’s estate when you didn’t have to, and that you’ve persevered against family objections … even to the point of violence. They were appalled at what happened. They don’t want to see you go, but know why you need to. So we want to send you off in style. And we hope you’ll come back someday.”

  Molly stared at Linda, stunned and humbled. “Thank you. I can never repay what all these people have done to make this work out as well. Y’all have worked hard in the house, and it means more than you know. It reminds me that Carterton isn’t all about greedy, manipulative family.”

  Linda took a bite of her hotdog before responding. “It isn’t, but I know how hard it is to see that when you’re in the eye of a storm. Plus there was such a history there, how could you not? Bird’s a big personality. So is his family. It can be overwhelming.” She paused for a sip of soda. “Some of them are here tonight, did you know?”

  Molly almost choked. “What?”

  Linda nodded toward Finn. “I think he has something up his sleeve. Finn always knows more than he lets on. He invited Tommie Jane, RuthAnn, and their kids. Bird and Nina, but I don’t think they’ll come. No one’s seen much of them since you were attacked. LJ, maybe. Kitty, probably not. Lyric, maybe. I did see RuthAnn and Eddie earlier.”

  What on earth was he thinking? Molly inhaled deeply to steel herself. “Well, Bird kept saying he’d never go after kin again, so he probably thinks everyone believes he was behind the attack.”

  Linda sniffed. “He’d be right.”

  “And Kitty is always going to despise me. I thought Lyric was still in Birmingham with her dad.”

  Linda shook her head. “Betty said she came in the store yesterday to buy a hammer and screwdriver. Said they were for her dad, but didn’t get specific.”

  “Early Father’s Day gifts?”

  Linda snorted a laugh.

  Molly fell into a comfortable silence, watching the flurry of the party. As she’d seen from the window of the house, it was a community that came together in a relaxed, open way. She couldn’t imagine that she’d find anything similar in St. Louis. Even if she found a club, a church, or another small town, she’d still be the outsider.

  This party was for her.

  Molly chatted with Linda a few minutes longer, then got up to refresh her drink. A half-dozen people stopped her, wishing her well, wishing she would stay, asking questions about the auction. She spotted Lyric at the edge of the crowd. The girl waved hesitantly, but looked away quickly. RuthAnn kept staring at her, and Eddie lurked in the shadows nearby. No Bird or Nina, but as the party grew, LJ appeared on the outskirts of the crowd, a baleful glare on his face.

  Molly found Finn and nodded at LJ. “What in the world did you say to get them to show up tonight?”

  Finn sniffed and resettled his cap on his head. “That there would be news about the auction and the contents of the house. And Freddy.”

  Molly gaped at him. “And they came?”

  “Curiosity didn’t just kill the cat, y’know. And there’s free food.”

  “And if you don’t deliver?”

  He shrugged. “Ya never know what the night might bring.”

  Molly suddenly had the urge to hide behind the BP station again. Greg was nowhere to be found. Instead, she stayed close to Linda.

  Finally, after he shut down the grill and Sheila brought out an array of pies, cakes, and puddings, Finn banged on an oversized pot.

  “Okay, everybody! Gather ’round, gather ’round!” He motioned for Molly to join him, which she did, a wary look on her face.

  “I’m not going to make a speech, Finn.”

  “Nah, nah, don’t want you to. Just some information.”

  Slowly, the buzz of conversation died, and Finn had everyone’s attention. “Y’all had enough to eat?”

  “Where’s the desserts?” some guy called.

  “Miss Sheila’s getting them out now. Hold your horses. I got something to say, and I wanna ask Miss Molly some things.”

  Molly looked at him, her brow knit in confusion, a tense knot growing in her stomach. But she held her peace.

  Finn went on. “We’re all here to bid Miss Molly a fond hail and farewell, sending her on her way to new adventures in chasing down tornadoes.” He paused and peered at her. “Which makes you braver than I’ll ever be.”

  “Finn hides in the basement,” Sheila called out.

  “’Cause I like livin’! Ain’t nothing wrong with that!” Laughter broke up the mood, then Finn went on. “She has done a fine job of cleaning out Miss Liz’s home and getting it ready to sell. Now, all y’all have seen the auction signs. What you might not know is that Molly is not going to keep any of the money from Liz’s estate.” He paused, and the crowd grew quiet, waiting.

  “Molly has made a list of people in the community who Liz wanted to help. You all know Liz had a heart of gold and loved the folks of Carterton. She thought maybe some of the furniture and stuff might be divided up, but mostly what these folks need is money, cold hard cash for food on the table and stuff for their kids. So that’s why the auction.” He paused again, and Molly recognized that he was going in for the emotional wallop.

  “Of course, there would be a whole lot more money in the larder for these folks if someone hadn’t broke into Miss Liz’s house and stolen a bunch of stuff. You locals may have heard, but some of you others might not. They got some big pieces—” He looked at her. “—a secretary out of the hall—” He motioned for her to go on.

  Molly picked up the patter. “A Shaker chest of drawers. A Tudor cup hutch made in Thomasville around 1920. Several others. All of these would have had letters of provenance ta
ped inside a drawer or to the bottom of the piece. Under a table. Most would have had Morrow family connections of some kind.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman grab her husband’s arm. She glanced at Finn, but he nodded and mouthed, “Go on.”

  “Most of the items were smaller, such as three McCoy pottery vases. Lily vases. I realize those are just gone, but I had hoped to do so much more with what was earned.”

  “Wait a minute!” The man with the grabby wife edged his way from the back of the crowd. Molly had never seen him. “How old was that Shaker chest?”

  “Late forties, early fifties,” Molly said. “It was made by Cresent Furniture in Tennessee. It was a wedding present to Gene Morrow and his wife from her parents. The provenance was taped in one of the drawers.”

  The man’s face turned dark, and he spun, pointing to the back of the crowd. “Eddie Travers! You lying son of a—you told me it had been a gift to your mother!”

  All heads turned, and people stepped out of the line of the accusing finger, leaving attention suddenly and boldly on RuthAnn’s son. He bolted, straight into Greg Olson’s grip.

  A motion from the other side of the crowd caught Molly’s eye, and she turned to see two deputies clutching LJ between them. He struggled for a moment, then stopped as they handcuffed him.

  Eddie didn’t go as quietly. He swung at Greg, and tried to twist free. Greg dodged but didn’t let go. One of the other deputies joined him, and they handcuffed Eddie, pulling him to the center of the crowd. RuthAnn followed, fury clouding her face, but she said nothing. LJ and his deputies soon joined them.

  Now at the center of the crowd, LJ stood silently, impassive. Eddie stiffened, defiant. He spit on the ground in front of Molly. “Wasn’t yours to begin with! Like all that money you took. Wasn’t yours!”

  Russell suddenly appeared at Molly’s elbow. He put a hand on her arm, but his face was tight with rage. He wedged himself between her and LJ.

  RuthAnn thumped her son in the back of the head. “Shut up, boy!”

  Greg shot RuthAnn a warning look, as another man pushed forward. “Hey, I recognize him! And that other one.” He pointed at LJ. “They sold me some collectibles, said they found them at a junk store.” His face red, he started toward Eddie, only to be stopped by one of the deputies.

  RuthAnn pushed by Greg, looking from him to Molly. “Enough!” She glared at Finn. “Are you satisfied? It’s why you wanted us here. Right?”

  Finn rocked back on his heels, a look of pure glee on his face. “More or less, missus. But he’s still got partners to name and talking to do. Right, Sheriff?”

  Greg’s face remained impassive. “There’s definitely a lot of unanswered questions.”

  “No! They shot Freddy!”

  From behind Greg, Lyric lunged out of the crowd, a screwdriver raised over her head. She brought it down toward LJ, who stood blocked by the deputies.

  Russell caught her arm. He stopped the downward arc, but her momentum carried them both to the ground. Greg shot forward, grabbing the screwdriver and wrenching it away. Lyric rolled away from Russell, sobbing. Greg helped Russell up, and together they pulled Lyric to her feet.

  She gazed up at Greg, tears streaming down her face. “They said he went home, but they shot him.” She jerked her hand toward LJ. “He has a gun. He hides it under one of the hen’s nests in the corn crib.”

  “Shut up!” LJ hissed.

  Greg took Lyric’s arm and led her to one of the deputies. “Take her to the station. We’ll need her statement.” He looked around at Russell. “You good?”

  Russell nodded, brushing dust and leaves off his clothes. “Although I’m way too old to be rolling around in the dirt.”

  Greg tilted his head toward Lyric’s disappearing figure. “You call her lawyer?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  He nodded at his remaining deputies, who led Eddie and LJ through a now-jeering mob.

  The first man who had come forward moved closer to Molly. “I feel like a fool. I should never have trusted those people. But he had a trailer full of stuff, and he made the rounds to several antique and consignment stores that I know of.”

  Greg asked, “You said, ‘those people.’ How many?”

  The man didn’t have to think. “Three. Those two and an older woman. She seemed to be directing them.”

  Greg nodded. “Was it that woman? The one with the boy?”

  He shook his head. “No. Older. Pale. Really funky hairdo. Like birds had been in her hair.”

  Finn snorted. “That’d have to be—”

  Greg cut him off with a look, then turned back to the man. “Will you make a statement?”

  “Right now, if you want me to. They should be horsewhipped, all of them.”

  Greg motioned for the man to follow him, and they disappeared through the still-murmuring crowd. After a moment, Russell followed them.

  Molly turned on Finn, her eyes wide with indignant questions. “You knew?”

  Finn ignored her to bang on the pot again. “Excitement’s over for now!”

  “What about a tour of the house?” called one of the men.

  Finn looked at Molly.

  She hesitated … but they deserved it. “Meet me there at nine thirty! I’ll show you around.”

  “Excellent!” Finn hit the pot one more time. “But don’t forget! Desserts! Pies, cakes, puddings! Right over there! Don’t let Miss Sheila have to freeze all that!”

  Laughter scattered lightly among the crowd, but his words did the trick, as a lot of them headed that way. Finn set down the pot, took Molly by one arm, and guided her away. They stopped under a sweetgum tree near the edge of the yard. “Yes,” he said quietly. “We knew.”

  “We?”

  “Greg and me. I’ve been listening, and I’ve been poking about. I knew they couldn’t sit on stuff too long. Greg was making it really hot for them, pressing hard in the pawnshops, pulling video from consignments, his deputies hovering around their houses. All he needed was one bit of probable cause and he could get search warrants. He made it so they’d have to move it. I just put ears to the ground.”

  “And they cracked.”

  “Like boiled eggs before a tea party.” He put a hand on her arm. “They made a huge mistake when they attacked you, Miss Molly. That drove Greg to a place I’ve never seen him, and this town came unglued. Everyone thought Bird was involved, and the stores refused to sell to them. Nina had to go to Attalla to buy groceries. They couldn’t get gas, and every time LJ left his bike somewhere, someone hid it or moved it. The Bistro owner told them that if they didn’t do it, they knew who did, and until it was resolved, they weren’t welcome.”

  Molly looked around at the milling townsfolk, a longing burning in her that ran all the way to the bone. Tears clouded her eyes. “What happens now?”

  “With them? The law will do its thing.” Finn pulled her into a hug. “The rest? I suspect that’s up to you.”

  24

  The dominos fell as the party wound down. More shop owners came forward, apologized to Molly, and promised to go to the sheriff’s office to make statements after the house tour. Some had video of the purchases. Others could easily identify Nina, LJ, and Eddie. None wanted to be holding stolen goods.

  The tour itself turned into more of a joy than a chore. The dealers recognized some of the pieces and plied her with questions. One even cooed over the giant cherry wardrobe, and promised to notify someone he knew would want it. They left, chattering with enthusiasm and promising to spread the word about the auction.

  Molly watched them go wistfully, the feeling of loss sinking deeper as she walked back to the party. “Aunt Liz,” she whispered. “Every piece will be just as loved with their new families. Cared for by people who really want them. Don’t they deserve that? Don’t we all?”

  Finn had built a campfire for the kids near the edge of the yard, and Molly sat in a lawn chair near it as people trickled away, some walking, others leavin
g in cars parked up and down Maple. A chill had settled in the air, and a light breeze stirred the flames. She’d offered to help clean up, but Sheila and Linda insisted she just rest, maybe toast a few marshmallows.

  Molly skipped that part. Instead she just tried to absorb what had happened tonight. So much had happened since she’d first arrived in Carterton. A lot had changed. And maybe she had as well.

  Russell wandered over with another lawn chair and a bottle of RC Cola. Molly looked him up and down as he sat. “I thought you went with Greg.”

  “I did. As your attorney, although I did call Lyric’s as well. Good thing, too. Because of her, Greg has bigger fish to fry than either your attack or stolen goods.”

  She sat forward. “Oh?”

  “Do you know what felony murder is?”

  “Yeah. It’s when someone is killed during the commission of another crime. Like a shop owner who gets shot during a robbery. Anyone involved with the robbery can be accused of murder.”

  “Right. Whether or not they pulled the trigger.”

  Molly couldn’t see where he was going. “And?”

  “And hiding stolen goods is a crime. Felony murder as a result of it—”

  The light dawned. “Freddy!”

  Russell nodded. “They had decided to hide the jewels and the cash in Liz’s house because it was such a jumbled mess. No one would suspect that something that valuable would be in the house. If any of it were found, there’d be no connection to any of the three. Freddy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and wasn’t nearly as dim as they thought. He loved Liz. He confronted them, and LJ shot him. When Greg spelled out the legal aspects of felony murder for Eddie and RuthAnn, I thought the poor kid would wet himself. He melted. Young Mr. Travers is on the hook for murder just because he was in the house. Once that domino fell, he let all the secrets spill, including starting the fire and the two attacks on you.”

  “On the porch.”

  “And at the hotel. LJ shot Freddy, but he drove the motorcycle that night. Eddie had the shotgun. Nina ran the thefts and fencing, but she didn’t know about the first attack or the fire. They started the fire to try to get rid of Freddy’s body. They didn’t really care about what else was in the house. When Nina found out they’d started it, she just about killed them both for trying to burn all the goodies inside. That’s why she was the leader in the second attack. Their main objective was to get what she and Bird wanted out of the house. She was the driving force behind almost everything else.”