“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.