Murder in the Family by Ramona Richards

Author:Ramona Richards [Richards, Ramona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946016768
Publisher: Firefly Southern Fiction
Published: 2019-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

11

Molly twisted around in the sheets like a rotisserie chicken. Nightmares—mostly about tornadoes ripping apart homes and families—plagued her until almost four. She dozed another hour, but finally, she got into the shower to blast away the last remnants of sleep. It was time to start the day.

She got dressed and checked her computer to find a brief email from Jimmy, updating her on Sarah’s condition. It was the first since Sunday, despite her daily emails to him. This one was short and abrupt. Sarah was responding to pain stimuli, which was good news, but still not awake. Her father was still talking lawsuit.

Get in line, bub. Molly definitely couldn’t worry about that now. She was more concerned about the tone of the note. Jimmy had always been the mediator of the team, friendly and optimistic. This note was curt to the point of being rude and had been sent in the middle of the night. Definitely not like him.

But her own reassuring words in response did not come. She felt blocked, numb, as if she shouldn’t respond at all. A week had passed since she’d seen them, since Sarah’s accident. But it felt like a lifetime. Molly knew part of her numbness came from exhaustion. Brain fog from lack of sleep and too many long hours dragging around house trash. Yet she felt as if a curtain had dropped between them. Not just a lifetime ago … a life. She still wanted to return, wanted to be with them. But the past she had so carefully packed away had returned to her full force. And it now stood between them. But she had to say something.

Finally, Molly typed,

Good news about Sarah. No worries about dad. Will sort that out later. But how are you? Are you resting? Call me sometime if you want to talk. Evenings are best right now. More time to talk. Thinking about you. M

The words felt false, as if she were just pretending. But they would have to do. Just as she hit send, her phone rang. She yelped. Who in the world?

Greg.

She answered the same way she’d greeted Russell. “What’s wrong?” This is becoming a habit.

“Get to the house. Now.” And he hung up.

In less than ten minutes, Molly turned onto Maple Street, but she was blocked from the house. A chaotic scene of flashing red and blue lights, shouts, and running first responders spread out before her. Working lights on tall poles had turned night into day. Two fire trucks—one on the street, one on her yard—anchored hoses snaking across hers and Linda Allen’s lawns to the pine grove behind the houses. Smoke billowed across the neighborhood in clouds thick with soot and ash.

Molly leaped from the Explorer as soon as it stopped, coughing as the smoke rolled over her. Her skin prickled and her chest tightened as she fought to make sense out of the pandemonium. What’s burning? Her gaze darted from the flames in the grove to the house. It seemed

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