Molly: House on Fire

by R. E. Bradshaw

  Blah, blah, blah. Molly was not listening. Her thoughts were on Leslie. Molly put Leslie in danger. She had gone off to fight the battle alone, and in the process, Leslie was shot.

  Rainey kept going. “And then Leslie complicated matters. She was upset because we were waiting for the sniper, and she just walked into the building. I started to shoot her in the leg, just to stop her.”

  Molly smiled at her friend. “I appreciate your restraint. I’m glad you didn’t shoot her.”

  “Well, you owe her your life. She’s the one that figured out where you went. The GPS in your phone just said you were downtown. She knew right away. Smart girl. We were already on our way by the time the false kidnapping call came in. James caught everything from the camera after we got down here. Good thing he has his own receivers. We came in when Payton shot the judge. We were about to come through the door when the sniper took the shots.”

  “What about Joey? Is he out yet?”

  “Danny and Judge Galloway are working on Joey’s release right now. There will be a federal and state investigation into the past forty years of Dobbs County justice. It will be a long time before they sort all this out.”

  Molly was still in a bit of shock over the whole thing. “What was Payton’s story? I didn’t see that coming.”

  “The BAU is still at his house. Payton was a journal writer. We love those guys. So narcissistic they have to write everything down. Seems he and some friends were creating a game where the object was to commit the perfect murder. A few of them took it a step further. He and Jarvis teamed up out of necessity. They both had reason to want that key. Jarvis wanted gold. Payton was a psychopath who wanted the power that tape could bring or destroy, depending on how you look at it. He decompensated rapidly when he thought you were going to open the box. His twisted mind didn’t see his crimes as damaging to the family, because he never thought he’d be caught, but he didn’t want his family shamed by a rape and public corruption. I know it makes no sense. These guys rarely do.”

  Molly shook her head. “How did he imagine he could get away with killing five people in downtown Waitesville?”

  “If his plan had worked, Jarvis would have gone down for everything. We really think that’s why he had Jarvis duplicate the serial killings. He was looking for a way to cover his tracks.”

  Molly turned at the sound of a knock. Tammy was standing in the doorway. “I brought you a present,” she said, and stepped aside.

  Brad backed into the room, pulling a wheelchair. When he spun around, Leslie smiled up at Molly. “Hey, stranger,” she said, reaching for Molly’s hand when Brad rolled her to the edge of the bed.

  Leslie’s arm was in a sling from being shot in the shoulder. The first sniper bullet grazed Payton and passed through Leslie’s shoulder, before smashing the glass in the door. The bullet hit no bone and exited cleanly. The second bullet dropped Payton where he stood. Leslie was very lucky. Her cheek had been stitched together and would require some plastic surgery to lessen the scarring. She was dressed and ready to go home. Even with the swelling and black eye, Molly thought she was beautiful.

  Molly broke into a painful smile. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

  Leslie squinted at her. “I’d tell you what you look like, but I don’t have my glasses and I can’t put my contacts back in for a while.”

  “Good thing I think your glasses are sexy,” Molly said, squeezing Leslie’s hand.

  Leslie winked with her good eye. “I’m ready to go home. How about you?”

  “The nurse said she was just waiting for the doctor’s signature on the release form. I’m not staying in this room another night, if I have to walk out in this damn gown. Who designs these things anyway?”

  Randy came through the door, carrying clothes for Molly, and followed by a nurse with a wheelchair. “Okay, Molly, you’re all set.” He spotted Leslie and came over to kiss her on the cheek. “Glad to see you’re up and about. My, but you girls do lead an exciting life.”

  Molly tried not to laugh, because it hurt so damn bad. She looked at Leslie. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to lead a boring life.”

  Leslie smiled back at her. “I have a feeling that life with you will never be boring.”

  Molly slid painfully out of the bed, careful to keep the back of the hospital gown closed. “Okay, everybody out. I have to put on my clothes.” She looked at Leslie. “You stay.”

  Everyone exited, even the nurse, after Molly insisted she could dress herself. When the door was closed, Molly leaned down, ignoring the pain in her ribs, and kissed Leslie softly. She pulled her lips away, but stayed close, staring into Leslie’s eyes.

  “I thought I lost you. I don’t ever want to feel that way again. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to wake up another morning without looking at you. Whatever it takes to make this work, I’ll do it. Whatever I have to promise to keep you, it’s done. You’re my home, Leslie. I’ve been looking for you my whole life.”

  Leslie smiled and winked at Molly. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me.”

  Molly grinned, mischievously, feeling the pain in her cheek. “I wonder what they would say, if we just snuck off to Durham.”

  Leslie stood, and stepped away from the wheelchair. “I’m game.”

  “What about Joey?”

  Leslie helped Molly untie the gown with her one good hand, while she talked. “We’ll wait until they bring him to Tammy’s. She’s going to take care of him, while I heal and Brad gets Joe’s house put back together.” She kissed Molly on her good cheek. “I was plotting while you were in here sleeping.”

  Molly shook her head. “You know, the first time I saw you, I knew you were trouble.”

  Leslie started for the door. “If you don’t want your ass hanging out in the hall, put some clothes on. I’ll distract them at the house while you get the car started. We’re taking yours. They’ll never catch us.”

  Molly laid her head back and laughed, which caused shooting pains, but she did not care. “Leslie Walker, I do think I’m going to enjoy this ride.”

  EPILOGUE

  One month later.

  Molly stood in the bank manager’s office. He had been busy since her last visit, packing up for his retirement. Molly’s black suit matched almost everyone else’s in the room, although it was tailored and probably the most expensive. Only one person was not in the somber attire, Stick. He stood across from her in jeans and a flannel shirt. Leslie was standing on her right, a small bandage on her cheek from the recent surgery to lessen her scar. Her shoulder healed quickly. Molly showed no visible scars from their escape from death. Horace’s guy, the man with the inside information on the gold coin, was on her left. He looked like one of the “men in black” with his thin tie and ridiculously shiny black shoes.

  The bank manager, Mr. Jones, fussed nervously over an oblong box he had just removed from the vault with Molly’s assistance. She retrieved the safe deposit box key from the back of her mother’s picture, once the crime scene techs had cleared the judge’s office. Jones nearly squealed with glee a moment ago, when the keys slid in and turned. They carried the box to his office, unopened. Molly thought he might have a heart attack if she did not reveal its contents soon. She had business to attend to first.

  “Stick,” Molly said, and then snickered. “I’m sorry, I just have trouble saying that name. May I call you Evan?”

  “You can call me anything you want, just give me what is mine,” he snarled back.

  “In due time,” Molly continued. “Evan, as we recently discovered, I am not Walter Branch, Jr.’s grandchild, but you are. The letter he left stated the bearer of the key is the rightful owner of the contents of the box. He was under the impression that I may have been his blood relative when he gave my mother that key. I only want the tape. If you are willing, you may take ownership of the gold, if there is any.”

  “Hell yeah, I want it. It’s mine anyway. I’m the only heir.”

  Molly prod
uced a document. “I have signed away any claim to gold found in this box. If you’ll sign here, it will belong to you.”

  Stick knocked Horace’s guy out of the way in a rush to sign the paper. “Out of the way, man. I’m fixin’ to be rich.” He looked at Molly and asked, “Who is this guy anyway?” He then signed the document while Molly explained.

  “His name is Stephens. He’s here to authenticate the gold.”

  Stick finished his signature with a flourish, and then turned to Molly. “Who’s paying him to do that?”

  Molly smiled. “My treat.”

  “Well hell, let’s see what’s in the box,” Stick said, excited about his new wealth.

  Molly looked at Leslie. “This should be fun.” Leslie squeezed Molly’s elbow and suppressed a laugh. Molly turned to Mr. Jones. “Okay, open it.”

  Jones was trembling, when he lifted the lid. At the front was a small, green and white, faded paper box labeled, “Two-track mono Realistic tape for recording.”

  Molly held out her hand. “I’ll take that. The rest is yours, Evan.”

  Evan snatched the box out and tossed it across the desk at Molly. He then grabbed the only thing left in the deposit box, a blue velvet drawstring bag. When he lifted it, everyone in the room heard the tinkle of coins.

  Jones whispered in amazement. “The legend was true.”

  “Hot damn!” Evan exclaimed, before dumping the contents of the bag on the desk.

  Gold coins cascaded out, along with the dies used to make them.

  Evan dove in the pile, counting them, “…twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine. There’s twenty nine of them.”

  Molly thought with the one she still had, the total would be thirty pieces of gold, the cost of so many lives. She pulled the coin from her pocket.

  “Here Evan, that makes thirty.”

  Evan was about to climb on the ceiling and dance, he was so happy. “I am so fuckin’ rich. Holy shit!” He held one of the coins up to Stephens. “How much is one of these worth?”

  Stephens put on white cotton gloves. He pulled out a magnifying glass and began examining both the coins and the dies. He took so long, Stick started jumping on the balls of his feet to contain his energy. Finally, Stephens put the magnifying glass back in his pocket and nodded to a similarly dressed man outside the door. The man entered with a silver briefcase handcuffed to his wrist, moving to stand next to Stephens.

  “Who the hell is he?” Stick demanded.

  Mr. Stephens answered with a sly grin, producing a badge from his inside jacket pocket. “His name is Special Agent Powers and mine is Special Agent Stephens of the United States Secret Service. Evan Clark Branch, you are in possession of stolen Federal property worth millions of dollars. I am seizing all of that property. You may pursue legal means if you feel this seizure is unjust.”

  With that, Agent Powers opened the briefcase, while Stephens gathered the coins back into the bag. Evan was livid, but Molly was not finished with him, yet.

  “Evan, if you go to court, you’ll probably get fifty percent of what the coins sell for at auction. That’s still a lot of money. You’re going to need a lawyer. My firm will represent you and not take a single penny, under one condition.”

  “What’s that?” Evan spat, so mad he could barely breathe.

  “You give back all the land your uncle took from Clark Stovall. He’s your grandfather, you should do right by him.”

  “Screw you. I’ll get my own lawyer.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Molly reached to the floor to retrieve her briefcase. She dropped the tape inside and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Stephens. “This is notice of intent that the estates of Amber Stovall and Sarah Harris have placed a lean on any and all proceeds from the auction of these coins.” Molly turned back to Evan. “I told you once, I have enough money to keep you in court for the rest of your life. I can and will sue the estate of Jarvis Branch for the murder of my mother. You’re done, Evan. Cut your losses. Leave this town and don’t come back. The Branch family has done the last bit of damage they will ever do in Dobbs County.”

  #

  Molly stood over the open grave. Her mother’s shiny new casket had just been lowered into the ground. Sarah Harris was exhumed, examined, and declared a murder victim. In addition to the Chief Medical Examiners report, the audio and video Molly recorded in the judge’s office vindicated Sarah, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind what happened to a promising young woman at the hands of evil men. They came straight to the gravesite, after leaving Evan in a screaming, crying pile in the bank manager’s office. Molly dropped the tape she retrieved from the safe deposit box into the grave. She would never listen to the tape. No one would ever listen. Molly reached for the shovel Zebediah held out to her and placed the first spade of dirt on the casket.

  “Rest in peace now, Momma,” she whispered.

  Handing the shovel back to Zebediah, she stepped away from the grave and extended her hand to Joey. He took it, which was a major step in their relationship. Leslie was on his other side, when they placed Joe’s urn on top of Sarah’s new headstone. Joe would watch over Sarah forever here under the old willow tree, where Molly played as a child.

  Molly began to chuckle as Joey explained to everyone, “This is not Papa Joe. These are the ashes from his body when it was burned in an oven. Do not worry. The essence that makes us alive was no longer with him. Leslie says his spirit lives in me.”

  A spattering of voices saying, “Amen,” filled the air. Molly looked out at the attendees. Carol and Donald flew in two days ago. They were already under Leslie’s spell and extremely happy that Molly was finally settling down. Carol was now dabbing tears from her eyes and Donald smiled back at Molly, always the proud father. Leslie’s parents were there, supporting their “new daughter,” as Leslie’s mom referred to Molly.

  Lizbeth and Gray drove up this morning from Ocracoke. Lizbeth, the true romantic, declared Leslie and Molly a match of fate.

  Gray just grinned and agreed with Lizbeth, “Yeah, something like that.”

  Horace had been in Durham for a week. He stood with Molly and Randy, when she self reported her previous perjury to the ethics committee, which gave her no sanctions and praised her honesty for coming forward. The press even cut Molly some slack, telling her story without sensationalizing it. It was still hard to have her personal life made public, but Molly was relieved of the burden of secrets. Horace declared it a win and was headed back to his island after the service, as fast as his rental car could get him to the airport.

  He told Molly, “I remembered why I retired.”

  Danny and James were there. They were wrapping up the arrests of the rest of Payton Whitehead’s pack, a group of three others. They were teenagers playing at a deadly game and would now spend the rest of their lives on death row. Payton got off easy.

  Zebediah’s entire family was there. Molly was reburying her mother beside Grandma Tee and Nona with his blessing. His daughter, Justine, drove in from Atlanta to see Molly and pay her respects.

  She hugged Molly upon seeing her, and said, “Thank you so much for endowing momma’s scholarship.”

  “It’s the least I could do,” Molly answered. “Your parents saved me.”

  Brad, Tammy, and the boys stood with Robbie, Bob, Olive, and Mr. Stovall. Amber had been reinterred earlier in the morning. The results of her autopsy showed she was struck in the back of the head, and was probably unconscious when she went off the bridge. Although there was no evidence that Jarvis was the one who killed her, no one thought she drove off that bridge anymore. Joe’s friends and neighbors filled out the crowd, along with the majority of the sheriff’s department in full dress uniform. Leslie made them forgo the twenty-one-gun salute, because the sound would bother Joey. They simply handed him a folded flag and thanked him for his grandfather’s service. Even Winnie, the judge’s secretary was in attendance. Molly had asked her colleagues at the law firm not to come, thanking them for their support, bu
t wanting this to remain a private gathering. Of course, that did not include Randy. He was standing with Rainey and Katie just off to Molly’s left.

  Molly, who always felt so alone, had been surrounded by people who loved her all along.

  Joey declared the ceremony complete. “It’s two-fifteen p.m., Leslie. We have to go. We are supposed to have food with family and friends at two-thirty p.m., at Tammy’s house.”

  A quiet chuckle rippled through the crowd.

  Molly gestured for Joey to go ahead of them. “Okay, Joey, lead the way.”

  Leslie slid her arm in the crook of Molly’s elbow, as they walked to the limousine. “Rainey wants us to stay with them tonight at Tammy’s. Your mom and dad are driving to their friend’s house after they leave here. We could stay, if you want.”

  “I’m surprised,” Molly said, adding, “It’s the first night Rainey has had Katie alone since the babies were born. I thought she’d have better things to do than talk to us.”

  “She said she needed to talk to you about that Triangle Lesbians blogger. It seems she resurfaced and is angry with you and Rainey. I think Katie just wants to talk to adults for a change.”

  “The blogger can wait, unless you want to stay.” Molly asked, being polite, but wanting nothing more than her own bed and Leslie with her.

  Leslie smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Let’s go home, Molly.”

  Molly slid her arm around Leslie’s waist, and with one last glance over her shoulder at the men shoveling dirt into her mother’s grave, she said, “Home. I like the sound of that.”

  About the Author

  R. E. “Decky” Bradshaw, a native of North Carolina and a proud Tar Heel, now makes her home in Oklahoma with her wife of 25 years. Holding a Master of Performing Arts degree, Bradshaw worked in professional theatre and taught University and High School classes, leaving both professions to write full-time in 2010. She continues to be one of the best selling lesbian fiction authors on Amazon.com.