This is Down in the Holler, a serial speculative mystery novella featuring Judith Temple, psychic detective.
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← In Episode VIII: The Turning, following a harrowing vision, Judith struggled to reconcile her preconceptions with new, dark revelations.
Deep orange traced the mountain ridge above McFerrin when Tim Morrissey knocked on Judith’s motel room door. She was supposed to have been two hours away, back in Lexington by now. But Tim’s faint rumbles of misgiving faded when Judith cracked open the door, the chain at the top still locked in place.
Tim held up a bag. “I brought donuts.”
“Why?”
“Because everybody likes donuts, and you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
A crease popped between Judith’s eyebrows. “There are six donuts in that bag. I’ll only eat one, so I hope you weren’t planning on eating five.”
Tim cocked his head, assessing the bag’s contents, and shrugged. “Maybe not in one sitting.”
“Do you know how many grams of sugar are in the average glazed donut?”
“Why would I ever want to know the answer to that question?”
“Because eating five donuts in one day would put you well over your recommended daily sugar intake.”
“Can I come in?”
Judith hesitated for a moment, then unlocked the chain over the door and opened it for him.
Tim stopped just inside the door. Every motel room Tim had ever stayed in turned into a disaster the second he walked through the door. But despite the fact that Judith had been living out of this motel room for a week, both of the queen-sized beds were neatly made, and all of her personal belongings, from her suitcase perched on the luggage rack to her bag of dirty laundry tucked into an unobtrusive corner, were as organized as if she’d just unpacked.
But spread over the cramped desk, piled on the floor, scattered across the unused bed were papers.
“I thought you were planning to go back to Lexington today,” Tim said.
“I extended my stay an extra night. I’ll drive back in the morning.”
There was a moment of silence as Judith watched Tim observe the state of the motel room.
“I like to be able to see everything when I’m thinking.” Judith slipped by him to extricate a chair from the maze of papers.
It was then that Tim finally got a good look at her, rather than just her eye peeking through a cracked door.
Her hair was in a ponytail, and her face was bare of makeup. Instead of her crisp, tailored business casual attire, she wore sweatpants and a thick, fluffy sweatshirt. It was strange – seeing her without armor, with her mask slipped away.
Judith set the chair down outside the ring of papers and then sat on the edge of the bed.
Pulling the chair closer as he sat, Tim opened up the bag of donuts. “One of everything the convenience store had. Take your pick.”
When Judith had pulled a chocolate cake donut from the bag and he had settled on a Long John, Tim leaned back in his chair. “You look different.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“No, it’s a good thing,” Tim said. “I’ve just never seen you being comfortable, just hanging out, before.”
“I’m not hanging out.” Judith pointed to the papers on the desk. “Those are copies of all relevant available public records.” Her finger moved to the floor. “Those are interview notes.” She gestured to the bed. “Those are my personal records of my visions and readings. There’s something here, somewhere, that can get me evidence against Granger.”
“That’s not your job.” Tim rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s mine. And I’ll keep working on it for as long as it takes, which, in a case like this, might be a long time.”
“Anna May hired me to figure out what happened to Autumn.”
“And you did that. But you’re not working for her anymore.”
“You’re telling me that Granger just gets to walk around town selling drugs and fixing cars indefinitely until you find evidence against him?” Judith said.
“That’s how it works.”
“But he’s guilty.”
“I believe you. But if we try to bring a case against him too soon, before it’s substantial enough to really nail him, it’s not gonna do any good.”
Judith took an agitated bite of her donut and lapsed into silence.
Tim looked down at his hands. “Did I ever mention I was in the army?”
“No.”
“Well, I was. Right out of high school. Spent some time overseas.”
“About which, I assume, you can’t go into detail?”
“That’s a pretty fair assumption,” Tim said, smiling. “Not everybody who was over there with me had good intentions, but I had a CO who was one of the best. And he said that, whatever might happen after, it was our job to leave a place better than we found it.”
“Did you?”
That old weariness that dragged at Tim’s shoulders, springing up suddenly like gravity trying to pull him into the molten core of the earth. “I thought we did. But it didn’t last long.”
Judith picked a crumb from the bedspread. “Was this supposed to relate to my situation?”
“It was,” Tim said, a chuckle loosening the weight on his shoulders. “I guess I lost track of where I was going with that.”
Judith smiled then, a small smile breaking across her impassive face. And suddenly Tim wanted to do whatever it took to make her smile again.
He dropped his eyes back to his forgotten donut.
“What did you do when you left the army?” Judith said.
“Studied forestry, believe it or not. I was a park ranger for a good while. But really, I just needed quiet. And lots of wild green land. I saw some ugly things out there, and that’s a heavy weight on somebody who’s barely more than a kid.” Tim leaned back in his chair, shrugging off his somber tone. “Then one day I got the harebrained idea to run for county sheriff, and, for some reason, they elected me.”
“You’re familiar with the area and have military experience,” Judith said. “Presumably that’s why they elected you.”
“Well, when you put it that way it sounds almost reasonable.”
Judith nodded, and silence slipped over the room once again.
“When I was in middle school,” Judith said at last, knitting her fingers together in her lap, “it wasn’t a good period in my life – the social dynamics, the cliques. You may have noticed that I’m not the most naturally sociable person.”
Tim couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth, but he said nothing.
“But the summer before my eighth-grade year,” Judith said, “I snuck onto my family’s home computer to watch tutorial videos. I learned how to curl my hair, how to apply mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow. And during the fall semester, I found that there was a 66.67% decrease in snide remarks, distasteful pranks, and similar behaviors directed toward me.”
She raised her eyes from her tightly woven fingers and looked up at Tim. “If there’s anything I know, it’s that if certain actions yield a desirable result, then I should keep performing those actions to achieve that same result. So yes, as you said, I look different today.” She gestured to the papers stacked around the room. “Because I was concerned about working out how to prove this case, not about trying to convince people to take me seriously.”
Tim’s face grew hot, and he leaned forward on his elbows again. “I put my foot in my mouth. I’m sorry. What I meant was that it’s nice, getting to see you, just you.”
“Did I do that right?” Judith said. “You shared a bit of your background, so I shared some of mine?”
At the hint of sarcasm in her voice, Tim looked up with an exaggerated gasp. “Are you - joking?”
“It’s not a joke. It’s a question that is somewhat tongue-in-cheek.”
“I didn’t think you did jokes.”
“I have a sense of humor. I’m not a robot.” Judith’s eyes roved again over the papers littering the room. The faint smile faded, the crease between her eyebrows returning. “I was supposed to find her.”
“Find Autumn?”
Judith nodded.
“Judith,” Tim said, “did you think that you’d come to Salt Fork for one week and solve this case?”
“When you say it like that it sounds delusional.” Judith stared at her hands again.
“You’ve done everything you can for now. But I can’t arrest Granger because you had some visions about him. Do I think he’s guilty? Yes. But I need to have evidence that would be admissible in court.”
“I should have focused on finding out where he put her body,” Judith said. “I didn’t bother to try before, and now I can’t get anything. It’s like Autumn’s just gone, like she decided I wasn’t the right person for the job after all.”
“I’ll keep working on it,” Tim said. “I’ll question Granger, question his friends, ask around to see if anyone remembers him mentioning anything suspicious relating to Autumn’s disappearance. I’ll keep an eye on him, a close eye. And if I catch him peddling drugs again, I’ll do my best to make sure he gets put away for as long as possible. It’s not a murder charge, but he’ll be off the streets. If there are any breakthroughs, you’ll know.”
“I appreciate that.” Judith dropped her eyes and plucked at a wrinkle in her sweatpants. “I know that’s not standard procedure for someone in my position.”
“I’ll just consider you a volunteer cold case investigator,” Tim said as he stood. “Nothing unusual or kooky about that.”
A twinge of satisfaction flickered through Tim as a smile poked through the cracks of Judith’s attempt at a withering glare. “I don’t appreciate your continued use of that word.”
Tim walked the few steps to the motel room door, the bag of remaining donuts swinging by his hip. “I never thought I’d take a psychic seriously, but you’re something else.”
He opened the door and stepped out into the chilly evening, but Judith held the door open.
“You do take me seriously?” she said, her voice quiet.
“I don’t really have a choice. You barged into my office, started spouting off statistics, and ended up being right about all kinds of stuff you shouldn’t have known. So yeah, I do.”
It had crept up on him slowly, steadily, until it took him by surprise – but Tim didn’t know quite what to make of the disappointment that nagged within him at the thought that tomorrow morning Judith wouldn’t throw open his office door demanding information or permission to use the copier.
“If there’s a way to prove what happened that night, then we’ll find it.” Waving, he stepped away toward his car. “See ya around, Psychic Lady.”
“It’s Judith. And goodbye, Sheriff.”
“Goodbye, Judith. And you can call me Tim.”
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this installment of Down in the Holler, please let me know with a like, comment, or restack!
→ Keep reading! Episode X: The Forest
← Read Episode VIII: The Turning
Down in the Holler Table of Contents
If you have any questions about the story behind Down in the Holler, the inspirations behind the mystery, or the writing process, please let me know with a comment or DM! I’m considering putting together a story-behind-the-story Q&A once Down in the Holler wraps up in early July, and I would love to know what questions would be most interesting to you!
Oh, Tim. I want to give that man a hug (since Judith is evidently not going to do it without some kind of formal request.)
Your dialogue is, as always, so good. I'm rooting for them!
The streak continues. Every episode is better that the last. There was more electricity in that motel room than there is in the middle of a lightning storm. Great job Bridget. - Jim