The Girl Named Mud: A Gripping Suspense Novel

by Ditter Kellen

  Jesse paled. “Her daughter? Flora had a child?”

  Grace spent the next twenty minutes filling Jesse in on everything from how she’d come to know about Mud to the child’s current situation, ending with, “Are you Mud’s father?”

  Jesse shook his head. “I haven’t seen Flora in almost fifteen years. She called me one night, begging me to come get her. She claimed that Horace had shot her up and forced her to have sex with some of his friends. Including his sons. She then started talking about the Devil and quoting scriptures from the Bible. She said she was in Hell, that she could see the flames burning around her.”

  Grace’s heart was now beating in her throat. “How long ago was that?”

  “It was a couple of years after she and I split up. So, about thirteen years ago.”

  “The church fire,” Grace breathed, more of the puzzle falling into place.

  Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  “The fire that burned down our church was thirteen years ago. Flora started that fire.”

  “Wow, I’m really sorry to hear that, Mrs. Holloway. But it couldn’t have been Flora’s fault. She was not only schizophrenic, but from what she’d admitted on the phone, she had been shot up with heroin.”

  And forced to have sex, Grace thought, surging to her feet. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Washington.”

  Jesse stood also. “No problem. I hope I was able to help.”

  “More than you know,” Grace responded, turning toward the door. “More than you know.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Grace drove away from Jesse Washington’s place, his words still swirling through her disbelieving mind. “She claimed that Horace had shot her up and forced her to have sex with some of his friends. Including his sons. She then started talking about the Devil and quoting scriptures from the Bible. She said she was in Hell, that she could see the flames burning around her.”

  Jasper. Had Jasper been one of the friends Horace had shared Flora with? The Bible quotes and fire were a sure indicator that Jasper had somehow been involved.

  Grace recalled Jasper telling her about counseling the woman who’d set fire to the church.

  The Calhoun library came into view a minute later. Grace wheeled her car into the parking lot and jumped out.

  She entered the building and went straight to the back where the computers lined the wall and then took a seat.

  Bringing up the search engine, she typed in Flora Ramer’s name.

  Scrolling through the many articles that appeared, she clicked on the one she sought, Shipper Parish Clerk of Courts. But there was nothing in the files about the fire or Flora’s connection to Horace Dyson or Jasper Holloway.

  And then, it hit her. Shipper Parish wouldn’t have a record of the fire in their system because the church resided on tribal lands.

  Clicking out of the screen, Grace surged to her feet and hurried to her car. She needed access to tribal records. And she knew just the person to see about that.

  Driving back to tribal lands, Grace snatched up her cell phone and dialed Red Bear’s number. She’d programmed it into her phone earlier that day when he’d taken her to the station to file charges.

  He answered on the second ring. “This is Red Bear.”

  “It’s Grace Holloway. Have you picked up Jasper yet?”

  “Not yet. I’m still looking for him. He’s not at home or the church.”

  Grace thought about that for a moment. “Did you try Horace Dyson’s place?”

  A brief pause ensued. “I don’t have jurisdiction out there. Besides, what would he be doing at Dyson’s?”

  She wondered how much to tell him over the phone and then decided on the truth. “Because I believe he’s into something shady that involves Horace Dyson.”

  Grace went on to fill Red Bear in on her conversation with Jesse Washington. “I need to see the reports on the church fire.”

  “Meet me at the station. I’ll get some of my men to continue searching for Jasper. I’ll also have a couple of them watch your house in case he goes back there.”

  Grace ended the call. Her destination: the tribal police station.

  * * * *

  “According to this report,” Red Bear told Grace, “Jasper Holloway claimed that Flora Ramer started the fire in the church when he refused her advances.”

  Grace thought about the assault that had taken place earlier in her and Jasper’s home. And it had been assault, no matter that she was Jasper’s wife. “I don’t believe that, Red Bear.”

  “Neither do I.” Red Bear continued to read, a strained look on his face.

  “What is it?” Grace questioned anxiously.

  He shook his head. “It’s just that…my brother, Etu was the officer working this case. It pains me to see his handwritten notes.”

  Grace’s heart went out to Red Bear. “What does Etu mean?”

  “It means sun. Etu was born with a birthmark on his neck, shaped like the sun. My mother thought it was a sign of good fortune. I guess she was wrong.”

  The sadness coming from Red Bear filled the room they sat in.

  And just as quickly as it appeared, it left.

  Red Bear’s aura changed to something dark and dangerous. “My brother wrote here that he questioned Flora Ramer.”

  Lifting his head, Red Bear admitted. “I was never made aware of this. I was always under the impression that Flora disappeared before our officers could question her.”

  “What do the notes say?” Grace slid in closer, attempting to see.

  Red Bear dropped his gaze back to the folder in front of him. “According to this, it says that Flora Ramer admitted to setting the fire to destroy the Devil and his vials of deception.”

  Jasper’s face flashed before Grace’s eyes. Could Jasper have been the Devil that Flora had been warning her daughter about all those years? “What does that mean, vials of deception?”

  “I don’t know. Hang on, there’s more.” Flipping the page over, Red Bear continued to read. “Flora’s front tooth had been missing at the time of questioning, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. It also says here that she had track marks on her arms, and her shirt had been ripped open down the front.”

  A gasp escaped Grace. Flora had been attacked prior to the fire.

  “During the questioning,” Red Bear went on to read, “she became hysterical, shouting things about the Devil, the church, some Bible verses, about Horace Dyson and his sons. Etu wrote here that he ran back inside the church to check for the survivors that Flora mentioned, and when he returned… She was gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Grace and Red Bear spent the next two hours combing through all Etu’s notes as well as the documents of some of the other officers who’d worked the Jena Village church fire thirteen years ago.

  Fighting the anxiety, Grace pinned Red Bear with a serious look and posed her next question. “Do you think Jasper had something to do with your brother’s death?”

  Red Bear’s jaw tightened. “I had not suspected Reverend Holloway. But after reading my brother’s notes, and what your husband did to you, I’m not so sure what I think anymore.”

  Grace looked away. She couldn’t bear the pity swimming in Red Bear’s eyes.

  Red Bear cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Grace. That was insensitive of me.”

  She waved off his apology without looking in his direction. Besides, her emotions were far too raw to talk about Jasper’s assault on and humiliation of her. “How come you’ve never seen these notes before?”

  “I never had cause to read through them until now. There was no murder or injuries involved in that fire. It was a simple case of a crazy woman who committed arson when her advances were thwarted. Or so I thought at the time. Had I known…”

  Grace rose to her feet and rubbed her palms up and down her arms. Though she attempted to stay busy and tried not to think, what happened in the office of her home was consistently terrorizing her mind. “I always thought the
same thing. I mean, according to Jasper, Flora Ramer was the village nutcase. I had no reason not to believe him. Even when I did an internet search on her, she appeared to be insane. There were even several arrest records to back that up.”

  “Grace…”

  Afraid to meet Red Bear’s gaze, Grace whispered, “Please don’t.”

  “You need to talk to someone about what your husband did to you. He hurt you, Grace.”

  Blinking back tears, Grace turned her back to him. “I know what he did to me. And I’d rather not speak of it again, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Grace knew that talking about it would do her no good. She wanted—no, she needed—to forget that it ever happened.

  “If that is your wish.”

  “It is. Now, please keep reading.”

  * * * *

  The next three days went by with Grace spending her nights at the safehouse with Mud, and her days researching everything she could find on Flora Ramer, Jasper, and Horace Dyson. But nothing had surfaced that she hadn’t read before.

  According to the tribal police, Jasper hadn’t been seen in the village by anyone. He hadn’t been home, at the church, or anywhere else in town since Grace’s departure three days prior.

  The worst of it? He’d taken what little money they had in the bank, leaving the account overdrawn.

  Grace had been left with no choice but to drive to Calhoun and pawn her wedding rings. She’d also been forced to sell a few more pieces of jewelry, along with an antique watch her father had given her before his death.

  What she would do next month when the bills came due was anyone’s guess.

  But what had been plaguing her mind since finding Mud was who her father could possibly be.

  Something deep inside Grace’s mind suspected that Jasper could be Mud’s biological father. According to the evidence, he was the last person to see Flora before she fled.

  Nausea gripped her. Had Jasper been cheating on her with Flora Ramer?

  Grace thought about all the nights she’d turned to him in bed, only to be told he didn’t feel good or was too tired to make love to her.

  Her stomach turned again with the memory of him forcing her over that desk.

  In all the years Grace had been married to Jasper, he’d never once shown a violent side, yet, violent was the only way to describe the man she’d witnessed in that office. Unfeeling, glassy eyed… Unreachable.

  But she had noticed a change in him, and if she were being honest with herself, she’d been seeing it for years.

  The nights he would come home, his eyes unfocused, his lack of appetite, his lack of desire for her.

  Grace had always assumed it was due to his constant traveling and the enormous amount of time he spent at the church and on the missions he oversaw.

  She thought back to the day he’d demanded she not foster any more children, citing that it upset him to see her hurt when the kids were returned to unfit parents. But Grace wasn’t so sure anymore. She’d seen the resentment and bitterness in his eyes on more than one occasion.

  Was he angry with her for not giving him children of his own? Could he have stepped out on her over her inability to have kids?

  That thought had always been in the back of Grace’s mind. She’d always felt lacking, less than… Not whole.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Grace left the pawn shop and drove to the children’s home to visit with Beulah. Since the bruising on her face had almost disappeared, she didn’t fear that Beulah would notice it.

  The kindhearted woman immediately embraced Grace the moment she stepped through the door.

  “It’s good to see you, Grace. Where have you been? You’re usually here a few days a week. The children have missed you.”

  Returning her hug, Grace took a step back and sent Beulah an apologetic look. “I know, and I miss them too. I’ve just had a lot going on over the past few weeks. I’m really sorry, Beulah.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, Grace. You have volunteered an enormous amount of your time up here for years. That ought to buy you a ticket to Heaven, if nothing else will.”

  Grace laughed for the first time in weeks. It felt good. “I don’t think it works that way, Beulah, but I hope you’re right.”

  Beulah chuckled also. “In that case, I better step up my game. Because I’ve wrangled these kids for the past twenty years, thinking it was going to get me into Heaven.”

  Grace knew that Beulah joked. The woman was an angel in Grace’s eyes. A woman who’d dedicated her life to helping unwanted and abused children.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Beulah. I believe you’ll have a seat reserved at the head of the table when you get to paradise.”

  Beulah suddenly sobered. “All kidding aside, Grace. How are you really doing? I know it’s not my business, but that bruise on the side of your face didn’t get there by running into a door. I’ve been in this business long enough to know the signs of what I’m looking at now. Though it’s very faint, it’s still there. Besides the bruise, you have a pain in your eyes that I would recognize from a mile away.”

  “Beulah…”

  “Who hit you, Grace?” Beulah demanded in a soft but firm tone.

  Grace turned away, unable to bear the pity apparent in Beulah’s eyes.

  The older woman’s hand appeared on Grace’s arm. “You don’t have to tell me, honey. Just know that I’m here for you, if you need to talk or just need a friend to sit quietly with.”

  That did it. The tightness in Grace’s chest became overwhelming. The dam of tears that had been riding just beneath the surface, waiting to burst free…did exactly that.

  “Oh honey, come here,” Beulah crooned, stepping around Grace with her arms open.

  Grace walked into the older woman’s embrace and allowed herself the comfort she’d been seeking since Jasper’s assault on her.

  “There, there,” Beulah repeated over and over. “It’ll be all right. Just get it all out.”

  Grace cried so long and hard, her head began to ache along with her heart. She cried until exhaustion forced her to stop.

  Sniffling, Grace pulled back enough to look into Beulah’s eyes. “Thank you. I needed that.”

  Beulah hurried over to a side table and plucked up a box of tissues. She offered them to Grace, who took a few of them and blew her nose.

  Accepting a couple more, Grace wiped at her eyes and face.

  “Now,” Beulah muttered low, “talk to me.”

  Grace took a shuddering breath, her tears now dried. “Jasper…assaulted me.”

  Beulah’s eyes narrowed. “He beat you?”

  “He raped me.”

  The older woman slapped a hand over her mouth, staring back at Grace in shock. Several seconds ticked by, and then, “Did you call the police?”

  “And tell them what? My husband raped me? He’s the pastor of the only church in Jena Village. Not only would it destroy the church, but it would destroy me. They would never take my word over Jasper’s. He’s practically worshipped there.”

  “Come, sit,” Beulah ordered, anger lining her voice.

  Grace knew that anger wasn’t directed at her. She sat in one of the chairs Beulah indicated.

  The older woman took the other. “You have to do something, Grace. He can’t just get away with this. Did you at least go to the hospital, where it could be documented?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, and I’d appreciate it if you would keep this between us.”

  “But—”

  “I’m asking you as a friend, Beulah. Please.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Beulah stared back at Grace for long moments and then leaned in to pat her hand. “You have my word.”

  “Thank you.”

  Beulah sat back in her chair. “Has your husband done anything like this before?”

  “No. That’s why it’s so hard to wrap my mind around it. It was completely out of character for him. But something like that is always in a pers
on, Beulah. How could I have not seen it before now?”

  “Not necessarily,” Beulah quietly pointed out. “Do you remember little Donnie Glasgow?”

  At Grace’s nod, Beulah continued. “His father didn’t begin beating on him until around his eighth birthday. Donnie’s mother couldn’t care for him because she was in the hospital with broken bones.”

  “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

  Beulah’s mouth briefly tightened. “That boy’s father just snapped one day. No warning, no prior mistreatment of his family.”

  Grace thought about that for a minute. “What made him snap?”

  “Drugs. When he was picked up for beating his wife, they found meth in his system.”

  Jasper’s vacant and glassy eyes flashed through Grace’s mind. Could it be true? Was Jasper Holloway, the pastor of a church, on drugs? It would explain a lot. The lack of desire for his wife, his late nights at the church without her, and his assault on her in that office.

  Grace pushed to her feet. “I have to go, Beulah. Thank you for everything.”

  “I didn’t do anything, love. But I’m here for you whenever you need a friend. Always.”

  Grace hugged the older woman once more and hurried toward the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob to peer at Beulah over her shoulder. “If anything happens to me, you go to the police with everything I told you.”

  The color drained from Beulah’s face. “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done a long time ago. Find out exactly who I’m married to.” With that, she opened the door and left before Beulah could talk her out of it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Grace left the children’s home, her mind in turmoil, and her body weak from not only stress but a lack of food.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything. Not that she had an appetite. She hadn’t since Jasper had forced himself on her. He’d taken something from her she feared she could never get back.

  Grace thought back to her wedding day, how tender and reverent Jasper had been with her. How he’d been so excited to show her the house he had bought for her. The light in his eyes, the way he would look at her, the way he touched her. His laugh.