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    Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One
    Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One
    Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One
    Ebook113 pages1 hour

    Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One

    By Jo Ann Snapp

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    After a career of many years in the east, Norma Jean Clark returns to take over the old home place in Herpel, Arkansas expecting to find peace and quiet. Second day home she is met with a land dispute that leads into a personal mystery. What really happened to her mom? Did her dad hold secrets to his dying day? She heads down a pathway to find the truth.

    In the first of many Norma Jean's mysteries to come, Herpel Holler Homecoming begins with Norma Jean Clark returning to the old farm. The homestead and land belonged to the Clark family for generations, most recently willed to Norma when her father died.

    Jason Brahm, whom Norma had grown up with from a toddler, had taken over the farm duties when Dad Clark got too old to continue. Jason had been left with the Clark's when his parents moved on. He'd always been treated as a member of the Clark family and Norma's Dad had become his dad.

    Gentry Newsom enters in the story as a determined land developer who will not take no for an answer. Through Gentry, Norma finds a long lost cousin, Shelly McComb who is claiming part of the Clark land.

    Pauly Parks, a neighbor also abandoned and taken in by Danny Clark, is a man with a child's mind, but as the mystery unfolds, Norma realizes, though mentally challenged, Pauly is intelligent and knows more about the past than she was aware.
    “Pauly knows, soul’s in heaven,” Pauly put a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh, must not tell.” His voice changed to a whisper. “Shhhh, don’t tell preacher. Must not tell. . . ” Pauly puzzled and then nodded. “Not in the grave not in the well.” Pauly laughed with a personal glee. “It rhymes, rhymes, true not in the well, but rhymes.”

    With the country ways of Aunt Ida and Norma’s inquisitive mind, a story unfolds revealing secrets that lead her on a journey to find the truth about the past she thought she knew all too well.

    Set in the Arkansas Ozarks, the mystery is told from the Christian perspective of country folks, both good and bad traits, and works through questions and answers to a satisfying conclusion.
    .

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJo Ann Snapp
    Release dateJun 24, 2011
    ISBN9781466150850
    Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One
    Author

    Jo Ann Snapp

    Jo Ann Snapp was an Arkansas author of fiction. She had been writing books since she was around nine years old. After a long career in retail and logistics she took up the mantle to get some of her work out to readers.Whether historical, contemporary, mysteries or romances all her writing is from a Christian perspective so you can be assured a clean read even if the subject matter is controversial. Some of her work is inspirational; some of her work is just plain good storytelling. No matter the genre, to Jo a story was a story that had to be told.Jo Ann Snapp passed away on November 29, 2013Jo Ann lived in Mountain View, Arkansas and the area inspired her Norma Jean Mystery series.Find more of Jo Ann's books at:http://joannsnappauthor.com Jo Ann’s Blog Words with a MessageTitles by this author:May and Jed Beginning the JourneyA Reconciled HeartEmilyThe Pathway HomeMarisa’s DestinyA Twist in the Old Lasso (Short Story)Norma Jean’s Mysteries Series:Herpel Holler Homecoming Book OneBody in the Bluff Book TwoBody in the Barn Book ThreeBody in the Big Box Book FourBody in the Barrel Book Five

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      Book preview

      Herpel Holler Homecoming Norma Jean's Mysteries Book One - Jo Ann Snapp

      Norma Jean’s Mysteries Book One

      Herpel Holler Homecoming

      by

      Jo Ann Snapp

      Herpel Holler Homecoming Copyright 2011 Jo Ann Snapp

      Smashword Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      *****

      Chapter One

      The old road back into the holler hadn’t changed. The holes, ruts and jutting white rocks peaked up through the Arkansas red dirt. A wagon with its height and a good team of mules or horses could maneuver around the obstacles pretty well—unless it rained—but the modern car of a person from ‘off’, anyone not born and raised in Herpel, could look forward to a broken tie rod, busted oil pan, muffler or shaft.

      I rounded the last curve between the two walnuts trees that signaled home. I drew in my breath, stopped my SUV and tears filled my eyes observing the place where I’d been born fifty-seven years ago. I experienced the same reaction every time I came back home.

      Out in front of me stretched the land Momma and Daddy settled after the war, taking over from his daddy and his daddy’s daddy before him.

      The tree lined, rolling pasture land, spotted here and there with cattle, the bottom land by the creek covered with several vegetable crops and the watermelon vines along the bank seemed to always be the same, though Daddy had been gone for over two years. The farm stayed in such good order thanks to Jason Brahm with whom I had grown up. Jason remained to keep the farm while I continued my career in Boston.

      I drove across the little rock bridge and stopped the car again before entering the graveled drive way. The abandoned homestead roof, which had been partially standing over the front porch doorway two years ago, had now collapsed over the structure and looked like the hull of a giant ship heaving up one final time before sinking below the waves.

      The homestead presented a capped, decaying hulk, but the daffodils were still there, lining the sides of the driveway, marching on up the dirt walkway and lined the front yard along the missing porch, then took off like escapees down the pathway to the cottage.

      I recalled the day Daddy put in all those daffodils though I wasn’t much more than a toddler at the time. People told me years later that Daddy planted the daffodils to keep a promise he made to Momma—one he’d put off until she died.

      I remember crying for Momma because I missed her getting me up every morning and loving on me and then playing with me during the day. I remember how warm and comfortable I felt at night against her chest as she hummed me to sleep.

      Aunt Ida, who helped Daddy take care of me, said Momma had gone to heaven. All I knew at the time was that Momma wasn’t around anymore and I remember Daddy’s love most fondly.

      I looked past the homestead to the small cottage where I grew up. As a little girl I use to ask why we couldn’t go back to the big house, but then as the years passed, I accepted we no longer lived in the homestead and the cottage became home.

      The wayward child has returned.

      I recognized the voice of my childhood friend, Jason Brahm, coming up from the house in the field, once shared by his family. I pulled the car on up into the driveway, turned it off and jumped out to greet him.

      Jason, it’s good to see you again. I hugged his neck and took note that he was as handsome as ever with just a few gray hairs at the temples.

      Norma Jean, you’ve lost some weight since last summer. Jason held me out from him. But lookin’ like a teenager as always.

      And you had your eyes checked when? I did stay in good health, and fifty seven years had not been bad for either of us. I looked around again. The place looks great. How was the winter this year?

      Not bad, not much snow or ice so that was good. Jason popped the hatch and began removing my suitcases. You know as well as I do, you can’t predict the Ozark weather from year to year. Not too many out to see the place from the realtor over the winter but a few have come by the last few weeks, one really interested.

      What would you say if I told you I pulled the land off the market?

      Jason stopped and turned to me. Are you serious?

      I’ve taken my retirement early, and I’m coming home to stay. I heard myself say the words I rehearsed in my mind.

      A smile broke across Jason’s face that could’ve lit up a dark room. You won’t get any argument from me, Norma Jean. I’ve been prayin’ pretty much for that to happen, but after all the years, I thought not. ‘Specially when we put the land up for sale after Dad’s passin’.

      Jason called my father Dad for years and I know Daddy had felt by him as a father would a son.

      I couldn’t bear to even think about it for awhile—coming back without Daddy being here—but something’s drawn me, and I know it’s time to come home. I felt even more confident in my decision, verbalizing my heart’s desire.

      The cottage is all set up for you, like always for the summer, so it won’t take a lot of preparin’. You can just move in. What about your stuff from the city?

      Got rid of everything except my keepsakes. They’re in those boxes in the back seat, so I’m here.

      It amazed me at the burden that seemed to lift from my soul and the freshness of my spirit. I knew God gave me good direction, and though my boss haggled and pestered to keep me as vice-president of our company, I made the decision.

      After everything had been put away, Jason and I sat in the porch rockers to watch the sunset. It had been a long time since I took occasion to just relax and enjoy what my Daddy called the wonderment of God’s power.

      When Eva died, I thought about leavin’. Jason rocked as he talked about the death of his wife. But as the years rolled by and it seemed Dad Clark needed me even more, I prayed a lot about what to do. I determined it must be God’s will that I stay. Everyone has a purpose in life and taking care of Dad was what I was supposed to do.

      But have you been happy?

      I’m content now and—yes, that does make me happy. Jason nodded.

      I got past losing Larry, but it still seemed like—even amidst all the activity—that something stood just out of my reach. I didn’t ever feel quite complete again.

      Talking with my old friend felt therapeutic to me. When I spoke the words I was here to stay, well, some burden lifted, and I know I’m in the right place now.

      I don’t know what the man from Batesville’s gonna say when you tell the realtor the farm’s off the market. Jason laughed. I think he’s dead set on buyin’ this place, doin’ some development and selling it off in parcels.

      I’ve signed no papers. He can’t force me to sell. I assured Jason. The land was free and clear of any liens, and I had plenty in my retirement to provide up keep and pay taxes. I called Lynda this morning and let her know.

      He’s offerin’ a pretty penny for the farm, no doubt about it. Jason said. But I know they did the same out at Round Bottom and then made a fortune sellin’ the lots as a sub-division.

      Things have changed that much around here? People never did have that kind of money to splurge. I didn’t know what a, ‘pretty penny’, meant in terms of dollars but I did know in the past the folks in Herpel just kind of lived day to day providing their needs.

      It’s a hot market for retired folks from off, lookin’ for a place to settle. Jason stood and moved to the end of the porch. Mountain View just seems to draw ‘em here. The folk music, the old fashion, slower and quieter way of life—problem is, will it stay that way?

      I came through Joe Springs road and past the church. I guess I did notice some new construction but. . .

      More than a little, Norma. Jason interrupted. "Sad thing is most of the old property owners can’t tend the land or have died away and the kids

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