The Heaviest Rock (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 3)

by Alan Black

The first room they came to was jammed shut. A voice shouted from the room. “Help us! The door is stuck.”

  Grace said, “Step back from the door.” She braced herself against the far wall and kicked the door latch with the flat of her shoe. The door flew open, slamming against the wall inside the room. She gave herself a small smile, this breaking down of doors could be fun. It might not be as much fun as melting iron in a fire and shaping it to her will, but it was fun no matter what the circumstances.

  Grace looked into the room. It was small and dark. There were no windows and little in the way of décor. There had been two beds, both of which had slid to the wall. She nodded at the two black women, Mercy and Trixie.

  The building gave another shudder and a shake. Grace said, “It’s time to get out. LillieBeth, can you lead them to the porch?”

  Mercy grabbed her friend Trixie by the hand. “We can find out own way out. You help the white women.”

  LillieBeth said, “The porch still stands and there is a way to get across the flood water to the other side. Mrs. Samson’s man is there to help.”

  Grace turned to another door. She tried the knob and was slightly disappointed when the door opened. The weight of the door pushed against itself, causing it to slam shut again. She pushed the door open again and peered into the room.

  This room had a window with the early dawn light showing into the room. The furniture was clustered against the down slope wall, a dresser, chairs and lamps clumped together. The curtains and pictures on the wall hung neatly as if they were hanging correct, but the room was off kilter. It looked like any other woman’s bedroom. Grace was amazed. She had never considered what a soiled dove’s bedroom would look like, but this was nothing as wild as her imagination pictured.

  She shook her head to clear the thoughts as she wondered if the woman hosted her men guests in this very room or if she… serviced them elsewhere. The thought surprised her as it gave rise to a familiar warmth in her body. She knew she would miss Clayton in many ways.

  A woman lay between the mattress and the wall. She was crying, but otherwise appeared unhurt. Grace slipped down the floor to reach the woman. She checked the woman over, nothing appeared to be broken or bleeding. She grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped the woman to cover her nakedness. She wondered if it would keep the woman covered crossing the street, but it was the best she was going to do with the time she had.

  The building gave a queer little quiver and it felt as if it was going to come apart at any moment. Everyone and everything inside was going to be swept away by the flooding White River. She would get everyone out she could, but she was not going to risk her life or the life of her young friend for a building full of floozies.

  Grace pulled the woman to her feet and pushed her up the floor to the open door. “Move it, woman, or I’ll leave you here to drown in the flood.” She knew it was more of a bluff than not, but it held enough truth to sound real. If push came to shove, Grace would pick up LillieBeth and carry her to safety rather than let her come to harm.

  The fear in the woman’s eyes at the threat of being left behind gave strength to her feet. She rushed out the door. LillieBeth pushed her toward the back stairs; giving her the same instructions to go to the porch that she had given Mercy and Trixie.

  The next door splintered open with a kick from Grace. The woman inside the room was fully dressed. She had a small bag of possessions in her hand and was standing at the open window staring at the floodwaters. She looked at Grace and LillieBeth and announced, “I tried to jump, but I couldn’t do it. I can’t swim.”

  Grace said, “You can get out this way.” She stretched a hand toward the woman, beckoning her to come to the hallway. She had never touched a prostitute before today and was worried about how it would feel, but the woman’s hand felt no different than any other woman.

  She marveled at that thought as LillieBeth pointed the woman toward the back stairs and through the parlor to the porch. The next room held a woman bleeding from the nose. Grace had seen a man, years before, who had been kicked in the face by a mule. The mule had broken the man’s nose. This woman was no better off than that man had been. She also had a gash on her forehead bleeding into one eye. The woman appeared woozy and not steady on her feet. Grace had the woman sit in her doorway. She wanted the woman to wait until she found another chippie to help her get out of the building.

  The next room was empty. Grace checked carefully under the furniture, but there wasn’t anyone in the room. She climbed back into the hallway empty handed.

  The injured woman said, “Where’s Maggie? That’s her room.”

  Grace shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe she already got out.” She looked at LillieBeth. Neither of them believed the woman had gotten out safely. The injured woman accepted the statement.

  Grace asked. “Are all of the rooms full?”

  The woman nodded. “Everyone has their own room except Trixie and Mercy. They share a room by the back stairs.”

  “Where is Mrs. Samson’s room?” Grace asked. She moved to the next door while waiting for an answer.

  The woman said, “She has a big room on the first floor. So does Vidalia and Mary Margaret. Everyone else is upstairs.” She pointed at Maggie’s room. “There shouldn’t be any empty rooms.”

  LillieBeth asked, “Where is Mrs. Samson’s man’s room?”

  The woman looked at her oddly as if that was the silliest question she ever heard, “He sleeps in any room he wants.”

  Grace kicked the next door open. It took two kicks. A small woman with long black hair fairly flew into the hallway. Grace was surprised. It was an Asian woman. She had never seen an Asian person anywhere except the pictures in her National Geographic magazines. She had not imagined an Asian woman was anywhere near as close as Oasis.

  She was surprised when the woman spoke in clear unaccented English. “Did the flood rise high enough to undercut the foundation?”

  Grace nodded. “The water is high enough for a log to slam into it.”

  “I told Samson the foundation was weak. It was built without a solid cornerstone.”

  LillieBeth laughed. “This place is missing a solid cornerstone in more than one way.”

  “Can you help this woman out?” Grace asked the Asian woman as she pointed at the injured prostitute. “We’ve cleared the back stairs and a path to the porch.”

  The Asian woman looked at the injured prostitute. “Ah, sweetie, you always was the clumsy one.” The women worked their way down to the back stairs, moving slowly hand-in-hand.

  The next door opened before Grace could even touch the knob.

  A woman peered out. “Is it okay to come out?”

  Grace nodded, “It’s best to get out of the building before it comes down completely.”

  The woman looked after the Asian and injured prostitute. Without a word, she scurried after them. She was unconcerned about the state of her undress.

  Grace climbed to the top of the open staircase. The stairs had twisted and did not look stable. The runners were cracked and split. The doorway into the parlor was broken with part of the wall collapsed leaving only a small gap.

  She looked back at LillieBeth. “We can’t get through that way. We know everyone on the first floor is already out except…” The prostitute’s name escaped her.

  “Mary Margaret,” LillieBeth supplied. “I can get down here and check the rooms just in case. You go back around the other way and make sure everyone else got out. I will find Mary Margaret and meet you at the window to the porch.”

  Grace shook her head, “How are you going to get back up from there if you get down there?”

  LillieBeth pointed at the gap in the collapsed wall. “I can squeeze through there easy enough. Or Mary Margaret and I can find another way out.”

  The building gave another shudder, but it did not move or settle any deeper.

  Grace was going to say no, but LillieBeth jumped down to a landing and slid along a damaged runner. She
was standing on the first floor looking back up as if to say, ‘see how easy that was’.

  Grace said, “You don’t take any chances. You find that… woman and get out fast. If you don’t find her quickly, get out anyway. Do you hear me?”

  LillieBeth said, “Yes, Mrs. Grissom.”

  Grace almost slid back down the hallway, moving quickly down the back stairs and into the parlor. As quick as she was, LillieBeth was already waiting for her.

  The young woman shook her head. “The doors were all open and no one was there. One of the rooms had a big hole in the wall from the tree. The bed was hanging half in and half out of the building.”

  Grace nodded just as the building shifted another few inches off its strange angle. “Let’s get out of here before this whole place comes down around our ears.”

  FRIDAY - MORNING

  Grace pushed LillieBeth through the brothel window just as the building creaked again. She jumped through the window opening, landing hard on the porch boards. She pulled her feet up, getting them out of the open window. She expected the building to fall to pieces and be swallowed up by the White River.

  Samson’s Boarding House for Young Ladies gave a cough, not unlike a sickly old man. It wheezed a bit and sat still. Grace decided even without a solid cornerstone or a heavy rock as an anchor, the building was not going anywhere; at least it was not going anywhere today.

  Samson’s man dragged himself up onto the porch. He looked exhausted. “I got everyone across the water so far. Where are Maggie and Mary Margaret?”

  Grace said, “We did not find them and we looked through the whole house.”

  LillieBeth said, “I think that Maggie may have panicked and jumped into the water on the river side of the building.”

  Grace was surprised the young woman spoke so calmly. The death of the women was tragic, even if they were girls of the line. She knew the young woman had seen more death and violence in the last few weeks than most adults have visited on them in a lifetime.

  LillieBeth said, “It looks like Mary Margaret got dragged out by accident into the flood waters. There is a huge hole in the wall back there.”

  Samson’s man bent down and looked into the window. Without a word, he ducked farther and slid into the building. Both women squatted down, watching him climb over the pile of parlor furniture and disappear into the room with the beaded archway. It was only a minute before he was back with a cloth bundle wrapped in his arms.

  Grace raised an eyebrow in a question, but she did not ask.

  Samson shrugged and answered the unspoken question, “It’s Mrs. Samson’s cash box. The cash in here is worth more than Maggie and Mary Margaret combined.”

  Grace was shocked at his casual disregard for the two missing and presumed dead women. She knew many folks in this part of the hills would believe the women’s work had earned them such a death as proof of God’s disapproval. She thought about LillieBeth’s relationship with the old hermit Fletcher Hoffman. If LillieBeth believed the old man could change his life and turn from evil to God, then these women could too. Their deaths may have been caused by how and where they lived, but their deaths denied God the ability to redeem their lives. Grace knew the women would not be missed, but she promised herself that she would try to remember them and pray for them and for the sakes of the souls of those they left behind.

  She said, “What say we try and get back across this street? I can get my way across.”

  Samson’s man looked at LillieBeth. “You wrap your arms around my neck and hold on tight. I’ll get us across.”

  The waters tugged at their feet, but they reached the corral fence post easily enough. It may have been a fairly easy crossing, but it was just about the last of Grace’s strength. McDonald was still tied to the pole in the waist deep water.

  She jabbed him in the shoulder and was about to cut him loose when his head lolled back exposing a deep ear-to-ear gash across his throat. Grace suppressed a curse. It was not in her nature to use curse words, but this was one time it seemed appropriate.

  She and LillieBeth tracked this man halfway across this county and into the next. They struggled hard to capture him. To have him die in her custody was infuriating.

  LillieBeth slid off the back of Samson’s man, and slid through the water up into the stable. The young girl glanced at McDonald’s body. “It could not happen to a man who deserved it more.”

  Grace was about to chide the young woman for her callousness, but she realized LillieBeth was right. He was only in her custody because she wanted him to be. She knew Bobby John McDonald and Mayor Cummings were both right. She did not have enough evidence to prove to a judge and jury that he killed Odie Washington.

  Samson’s man glanced at her and nodded. Without speaking, he pulled a long knife from his boot. Cutting the cord holding the man in place, he grabbed the body and pulled it up into the stable, dropping it in the first open stall. She saw him hand the bundled cash box to his boss and sink to the ground in exhaustion.

  Grace looked at the other women standing around. She looked at Trixie. The black painted lady glanced at Mercy and then looked at the floor.

  Grace said, “Mercy, show me the knife you carry.”

  Mercy smiled. “I’m sorry Sheriff Grissom. I seem to have lost it crossing the street.”

  Grace let it drop. Even the suspicion that a black prostitute had cut a man’s throat would get Mercy lynched and one lynching in this town was one too many. LillieBeth was right; the man earned his own fate. It just stung that she had him bound in custody when he was killed. Still, she thought, a mosquito had stung her harder. The sting would itch for a while, but it would eventually quit and be forgotten.

  Sariah Washington’s son was tending to Fletch, rubbing the horse’s legs with a dry burlap bag and talking quietly to the huge stallion. The boy had given the horse an extra ration of grain and put fresh hay and clean water in front of each horse.

  LillieBeth watched him for a minute and turned to stare at Taradittles. The young woman was normally a bundle of energy. Now she stood quietly. Grace could not tell whether the woman was deep in contemplation or frozen in exhaustion.

  Grace walked up to the man. She kicked him awake, unconcerned how her lack of manners would appear to the gathered group of prostitutes.

  He stared up at her bleary eyed from lack of sleep and too much moonshine. “What now?” he asked. It was obvious he could not see much beyond her, as Mrs. Samson and her line gathered in a circle behind Grace.

  She dug the manacle key from her skirt pocket, leaned down and unlocked the man’s hands. “Abe and Zeke Braunawall are in custody. They’ll hang for murdering Clayton Grissom, even if Abe won’t for lynching Odie Washington. Your good buddy Bobby John McDonald is dead and will not murder any other good men.”

  “I’m free to go?”

  Grace said, “I can’t prove you had anything to do with lynching Odie Washington. McDonald said you did, but I can’t prove it. So yes, you’re free to go and go you will. Don’t ever come back to Stone County.”

  Taradittles levered himself to his feet and noticed the women. He grinned. “Nice to see you put together a going away party for me.”

  Mrs. Samson seemed to have lost her sense of humor. “Get gone. I don’t need your kind of bad egg in my place, not to mention you’re broke half the time and drunk the other half.”

  Taradittles continued to leer at the prostitutes in their various states of undress. He checked the cinch on his saddle and swung up lightly. He grinned down at Grace. “Thanks for the pop skull, Sheriff.” He backed his horse from the stall and rode out the front, working his horse along the corral fence to get around to dry land.

  Grace looked from him to Mercy. The black painted lady smiled, turned, and sauntered out of the stable by the back door as if she were casually heading to the nearest outhouse. Grace was too tired to follow or even worry about what the woman was planning. She looked around, but Trixie was already gone.

  She thou
ght Mercy had returned right away, but it was Sariah Washington coming in through the back door. She was standing straight and strong, but her face gave away her loss. She walked straight up to Grace.

  Sariah looked up into Grace’s eyes. “Trixie came and got me. I left her and my baby boy with the horses up in the high field. She said you catched them what done in my Odie? She said one is dead and you have one in jail.”

  “Yes, Sariah. LillieBeth and I rode down across the Taneycomo dam and arrested one of them. The other followed us and died here. His body is in a stall down there. It’s only fitting that the man owes you everything in his pockets. Feel free to take whatever you want. You could have his horse too, if I knew where it was. It won’t replace your husband, but I think it’s your right.”

  LillieBeth walked up. She held out her hand. In the flat of her palm was Odie’s bracelet. “Odie said this was made by his grandfather and he wanted his son to have it.”

  Sariah smiled shyly, “Thank you, Miss. For this,” she took the bracelet, “and for all you done for me and my boys.”

  LillieBeth said, “Susanne Harbowe is my friend. She said you are nice people, so you must be. I am sorry about Mr. Washington and I don’t know if there is much I can do, but if I can help you and your boys, please just ask.”

  Sariah smiled and nodded. She looked at Grace and said, “Now what am I supposed to do, Mrs. Grissom? I can’t run this stable. I know about raising my boys, fixing supper, and making my man happy. I don’t know business.”

  Grace said, “I may have a solution. I’ve lost my Clayton and you’ve had your husband taken from you. Why don’t we join up and run this place together?”

  Sariah looked shocked. “A white woman and a black woman running this place together? That ain’t decent.”

  Mrs. Samson laughed. “Sariah, if we listened to the men around us, women would never be able to take care of themselves. The only business they leave us with is not a decent one.” She pointed at the women around her.

  Vidalia joined in the laughter. “I can’t sew good enough to work in a dress shop and I never got much farther in school than the third grade, so I can’t teach school. What’ve men left for me?”