A tall man with gray hair, wearing a white coat, suddenly strode through a set of double doors, a grim look on his face. “I’m Doctor Frazier. Are you the ones who brought in the young girl?”
“I am,” Grace admitted, pulling free of her husband to face the doctor. “I’m Grace Holloway, and this is my husband, Jasper. He pastors the church in Jena, where she was found. How is she? Is she going to be okay?”
“It’s difficult to tell at this point, Mrs. Holloway. We have her in the ICU. Do you happen to know if her parents have been located?”
Grace shook her head. “We’ve lived in Jena for over thirteen years now, and I’ve never seen that little girl before. She has to be a runaway or…”
“We’re waiting on her bloodwork to come back,” Doctor Frazier began, saving Grace from having to voice her thoughts aloud. “But her chest X-rays aren’t looking good. Definitely pneumonia. She’s severely dehydrated and suffering from malnutrition as well. You could be right about her being a runaway.”
“That poor baby.” Grace swallowed around the lump in her throat. “How old do you think she is, Doctor?”
“There’s no sign of baby teeth in her mouth, which leads me to believe she’s approximately twelve to thirteen years of age. I’ve notified the authorities. They should be here soon.”
Grace was shocked to learn the little girl could possibly be a teenager. She was far too small for someone of that age. Grace had figured her to be no older than eight. “She was found on tribal lands, Doctor. The tribal police will have jurisdiction.”
“I see. Well, I still have a duty to report it. Local law enforcement can sort out the details of jurisdiction.”
Grace agreed. “May I see her?”
The doctor’s gaze softened. “Make it brief. She’s sedated to keep her from pulling out her tubes. For someone so weak, she sure did put up a fight.”
Touching Grace on the arm, the doctor nodded to Jasper and trailed off in the opposite direction from whence he’d come.
Grace moved to step around Jasper, but he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go in there? I mean, she could be contagious.”
Glancing down at the hold her husband had on her arm, Grace admitted, “I brought her into the hospital, Jasper. If she’s contagious, I’ve already been exposed.”
“But—”
“I’m going in,” Grace whispered, cutting off the rest of his words.
She pulled free and hurried forward before he could try to stop her.
Grace strode through the double doors the doctor had come through and then stopped at the first nurse’s station she came to. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find the ICU?”
An older woman wearing her glasses atop her head looked up. She pointed to her left. “Take that corridor to the first hallway to the right. At that end of that hall, you’ll come to a set of double doors. Press the button on the wall to be let in.”
Voicing her thanks, Grace followed the directions the nurse gave her until she arrived at the double doors.
She pressed the button.
A click sounded, indicating the lock had released, and then the doors swung inward.
Grace entered the intensive care unit, her mind still reeling from the doctor’s words. The little girl had pneumonia.
She stopped at another nurse’s station, resting her hands atop the horseshoe-shaped counter. “Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find the little girl that was brought in earlier with pneumonia?”
“Name?” one of the nurses muttered while tapping some keys in front of a computer screen.
“I— She— I don’t know her name. I brought her in this morning. She’s small, no shoes, brown hair.”
The nurse met Grace’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Miss…?”
“Holloway. Grace Holloway.”
“Miss Holloway, only family members are allowed to visit patients in the ICU.”
“But Doctor Frazier said I could see her. We don’t even know if she has any family.”
The nurse didn’t look convinced. She picked up the receiver of a phone. “One moment, please.”
Grace listened quietly as the nurse obviously spoke with Doctor Frazier about allowing her to visit.
Ending the call, the nurse murmured, “The third door on your left. But please make it brief.”
“Thank you.” Grace turned from the counter and made her way to the girl’s room. She stopped outside the door to use the bottle of hand sanitizer hanging there.
The sounds of medical equipment at work reached her ears upon entering, and then the child came into view.
Grace inched closer until she found herself standing next to the rail-guarded hospital bed. She gazed at the little girl’s face—a face that had been cleaned up some.
She was actually a pretty little thing, with her slightly upturned nose and small, bow-shaped mouth. Even though the poor soul’s lips were dry and cracked.
A tinge of color now stained her cheeks, making her look less of the corpse she’d resembled earlier.
Grace reached over and gently touched her small hand. “Who are you?” she whispered more to herself than the little girl. She knew the child couldn’t hear her.
But then, her lips moved without sound.
Grace gripped the girl’s hand a little firmer, stroking her thumb across those small, scratched-up knuckles. “Hi there…”
The child’s eyes opened far enough that Grace could see their color. They were a sky blue.
That glassy and unfocused gaze seemed to settle on Grace’s face. “M-Mmm...”
She’s trying to speak, Grace thought in wonder.
With her heart in her throat, Grace leaned in close. “Are you trying to say something, sweetheart?”
The girl’s dry, cracked lips moved again. “M-Mud…”
Sure that she hadn’t heard that right, Grace leaned in more. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Mud,” the little girl whispered again, stronger this time. “My name’s Mud.”
Grace’s throat nearly closed. She’d heard her right the first time. The neglected and sickly child lying helpless in that ICU was…Mud.
Chapter Six
Grace left the little girl’s room in the ICU and nearly ran into Beulah Martin, the closest thing to child protective services the small village of Jena had available to them.
Deputy Leon Capri stood at her elbow, holding his hat in his hand.
“Grace?” Beulah’s eyebrows were nearly in her hairline. “What are you doing here?”
Grace ran a hand through her long, red hair and blew out a shaky breath. She’d known Mrs. Martin for several years, since being a volunteer at the children’s home and also fostering a few of the kids. “Checking on our little patient. She’s in bad shape, Beulah.”
Beulah’s gaze softened. “Were you able to get her name? Doctor Frazier tells me that she came in unconscious.”
“Mud,” Grace quietly admitted. “Her name is Mud…”
Deputy Capri picked that moment to speak. “Mud? As in dirt?”
Grace nodded. “That’s what she told me not five minutes ago. But she could be delusional. They’ve had her sedated since her arrival this morning.”
Beulah Martin moved to step around Grace while motioning for the deputy to follow her into the child’s room. And of course, Grace re-entered right on their heels.
“Good lord,” Deputy Capri whispered, stopping at the foot of Mud’s bed. “The tribal police called us about a girl found on their lands, but they didn’t mention anything about the shape she was found in. I wonder if she was dumped there?”
Grace wondered that too. She watched Beulah move closer to the little girl’s head, the heavyset woman’s face noticeably paling.
Beulah visibly swallowed and then met Grace’s gaze. “We need to document everything. Where she was found, who found her, who brought her in… Jesus, Grace, she’s been severely neglected or abused. I…hate
people.”
Grace understood Beulah’s feelings about people. Beulah had been running the children’s home in Calhoun for more than twenty years. She’d seen more neglect and abuse in that time to last her an eternity. Grace knew that. Beulah had confided in her on more than one occasion.
“I know.” Grace continued staring at Mud as she spoke, her heart still squeezing painfully. “Or she’s a runaway. But from where? I’ve never seen her in Jena. And I’ve lived there for fifteen years.”
Beulah tugged a small camera free of the purse hanging over her shoulder. She began snapping pictures of Mud while speaking to Deputy Capri. “We need to try to locate her family. According to Doctor Frazier, she’s approximately twelve to thirteen years old.”
Moving to the other side of the bed, Beulah paused and met Deputy Capri’s gaze. “Write that down.”
“Oh-oh right,” he stammered, obviously overwhelmed by the child’s condition. He tugged a pad and pen free of the right breast pocket of his shirt and began jotting down Beulah’s words.
Though the doctor had ordered Grace to stay no more than a minute, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
A soft moan suddenly came from the little girl’s mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, and her unfocused gaze settled on the deputy standing at the foot of her bed.
She began to make panicked sounds in the back of her throat.
Beulah waved a hand in Capri’s direction. “Wait outside.”
When the deputy turned to go, Grace quickly took up position on the opposite side of the bed from Beulah. “Mud?”
The little girl turned her head in Grace’s direction. She didn’t speak, only stared up at Grace with a hauntingly terrified expression.
“Where are your parents?” Grace asked, taking the child’s hand once more.
“My mama’s dead,” the girl whispered brokenly.
“Dead?” Grace repeated, stunned at that bit of information. “Are you sure?”
Mud appeared to struggle with getting the next words out. “The Devil killed her.”
Grace’s heart jumped into her throat. She wanted to ask the child what she meant by the Devil, but she held the question back. Instead she repeated, “Can you tell me your name once more?”
A long pause ensued, and then the girl rasped, “Mud.”
So, Grace had heard the child correctly. Her name truly was Mud. “Hi, Mud, I’m Grace. And the lady on your other side is Beulah. You’re safe now. Do you understand? We won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Mud’s eyes drifted closed.
The door abruptly opened, and a nurse entered, holding some items in her hands. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”
Grace didn’t want to go. But left with no choice, she exited Mud’s room with Beulah tight on her heels.
Once in the hall, Beulah unnecessarily pointed out, “She claims her mother is dead. We need to find out who she is—or was—as soon as possible.”
Deputy Capri suddenly reappeared, holding a soft drink in his hand. “Did you find out anything that would help us identify her?”
Beulah shook her head. “Very little. The child claims her name is Mud, and that the Devil killed her mother.”
“Probably the drugs they have her on,” the deputy muttered, glancing at his watch. “I have to get back to the station. The chief has me heading up the Geller–Dyson dispute. I swear those two are gonna be the death of me.”
Grace ground her teeth. Everyone in Shipper Parish, as well as the surrounding counties, knew about Horace Dyson. The man had more money and owned more land than he knew what to do with. And Geller’s land butted up against Dyson’s, which wasn’t a good thing, considering they’d been accusing each other of cattle thieving for the past twenty years. And they had a lot of cattle.
It was common knowledge that in Louisiana, if you took care of your soil, you could raise one cow per acre. There even seemed to be a sort of attraction for some in working in such varied and unconventional cattle-raising terrain.
It angered the Jena Choctaw Indians to know that the overabundance of cattle poisoned the veins of water running through their land. Especially since Geller’s and Dyson’s properties bordered tribal lands.
Grace shook her head. “More cattle-stealing accusations?”
“You could say that,” Capri muttered sarcastically. “But if you ask me, I think it stems more from Dyson wanting to buy Geller out, and old man Geller ain’t selling. But we both know how that’ll eventually turn out. In the end, Dyson always gets what he wants. Always.”
Grace rubbed her arms. Horace Dyson scared her. He had since the first moment she’d met him. Truth be told, most everyone in the village feared him. Except Jasper. Of course, Jasper got along with just about everyone.
Horace and his sons had attended Jasper’s church for quite some time now. Well, he and one son Albert, his youngest, had come up missing. And of course, Horace had accused Geller of foul play. But after an extensive investigation by the Jena Police Department, no evidence could be found to back up that claim. The investigation was still open.
Clearing her throat, Grace asked, “Any leads on Albert’s disappearance?”
Capri shook his head. “Nothing solid. But Dyson still swears that Geller is behind it. Wouldn’t surprise me. Albert was probably caught stealing Geller’s cattle.” With that, Capri turned and walked away, leaving Beulah and Grace to stare at his retreating back.
Chapter Seven
Grace quietly pushed the door open to Mud’s hospital room and poked her head inside.
Her throat constricted.
Mud lay under a white sheet, her wrists and ankles restrained to the shiny metal railings of her bed.
They had moved her from ICU the night before, and now had her in a private room on the second floor.
For the past week, Grace had been visiting her daily, against Jasper’s better judgment… Which only served to anger Grace.
Why would Jasper not want her to check in on Mud? The poor child was alone and no doubt terrified.
No one had come forward to claim the little girl, even after her story had run in the papers and on the news all week.
“Mud?” Grace whispered, easing deeper into the room.
The little girl’s head snapped in Grace’s direction. “Let me go. I need to go. Hurry before he gets me.”
“Before who gets you?” Grace stopped next to the bed.
“The Devil. Mama told me about him. He’s bad and does bad things.”
Choosing her words carefully, Grace spoke in a clear yet soft voice. “You told me several days ago that the Devil hurt your mother. What did you mean by that?”
Mud began to yank on her bonds. “He killed her! He’s gonna get me too. I have to go. Help me!”
Grace’s stomach knotted up. “Mud? I need you to calm down, okay? You’ll hurt yourself, fighting like that.”
The little girl only fought harder.
A nurse ran into the room, holding a syringe in her hand. She pushed past Grace and inserted the needle into Mud’s IV. Within seconds, Mud’s attempted flailing stopped.
“What happened?” the nurse asked Grace. “She’s been calm for the past two hours.”
Grace faced off with the obviously unfeeling woman. “She begged me to get her out of here. She thinks someone is going to hurt her.”
The nurse sniffed. “No one is hurting her. I can assure you.”
A tap on the door announced Beulah and Deputy Capri’s arrival. The duo stepped into the room, passing the nurse on her way out.
“Thank God,” Grace blurted, beyond relieved to see Beulah’s face. “Tell me you have good news.”
Beulah shook her head, a sad look in her eyes. “Not yet. Doctor Frazier is releasing her this afternoon, but we don’t have any available beds at the children’s home. She’s going to have to be transported to another county, one that has the room to accommodate her.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open. “What? Surely
you can figure something out. She’s terrified, Beulah. We can’t just simply send her to another county. Someone here has to know who she is. If we had just a little more time—”
“There is nothing we can do, Grace. I know you want to help her, but the home just cannot accommodate her right now. Maybe if a bed becomes available—”
“I’ll take her,” Grace found herself saying, cutting off the rest of Beulah’s words. “I have the room and the means to care for her until we can locate a relative willing to take her in. Besides, I’m already a certified foster for the state of Louisiana, as you well know.”
Beulah stared at Grace for long moments. “This is different, Grace. This one is definitely a flight risk.”
“I’m aware of the risks involved, Beulah. I’ll take her in until different arrangements can be made.”
Grace had no idea what Jasper would have to say about her decision. She only knew that she hadn’t slept but a few hours since bringing Mud to that hospital. She was drawn to the child like she’d never been drawn to anyone before. She had to help her.
Beulah narrowed her eyes and then blew out a breath. “All right then. I’ll see what I can do to make that happen. But understand what you’re getting yourself into. We have no idea if she’s violent or psychotic. Jesus, Grace. Are you sure about this?”
Grace had never been surer of anything in her life. Even though she knew that Jasper would probably blow a gasket when he found out. But Jasper was out of town, which meant she would deal with that when the time came. “I’m positive.”
Chapter Eight
Mud watched the trees go by through the window of the van she rode in.
The hum and vibration of the van brought back a vague memory of the woman named Grace… The woman who’d driven her to the hospital. The woman who’d helped her.
Flora’s words suddenly whispered through Mud’s mind. “You can’t trust them folks in the village, Mud. They’re evil. All of ‘em. The Devil controls their minds. You can’t believe nothin’ they say, Mud. You understand me?”
“Yes, Mama. We can’t trust the village folks.”
The Girl Named Mud: A Gripping Suspense Novel Page 3
