Catherine's Cross
Catherine's Cross
by
Millie West
Catherine's Cross
© 2013 Millie West. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopying, or recording, except for the inclusion in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published in the United States by BQB Publishing
(Boutique of Quality Books Publishing Company)
www.bqbpublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America
978-1-937084-91-2 (p)
978-1-937084-92-9 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013932828
Book design by Robin Krauss,
www.lindendesign.biz
Cover art by Rick Reinert
Dedication
For Tony, Whitney, and Micah
And the gracious people of Beaufort County, South Carolina,
who know how to show a visitor a good time!
Contents
CHAPTER 9: “Where Go the Boats”
CHAPTER 11: Twenty Orchid Avenue
CHAPTER 12: The Water Festival
CHAPTER 16: The Course of Empire
CHAPTER 19: Blackstock's Mountain
Catherine's Cross
I would like to thank the following people who helped me with my novel,
Catherine's Cross
: Terri Leidich, my publisher, at Boutique of Quality Books, who works hard to run a first-class operation. Thanks also to Katy, Julie, Heidi, Robin, and the rest of the talented BQB team!
My editor, Megan Miller, who made excellent suggestions, worked countless hours, and showed me patience and understanding! Thank you!
My favorite artist, Rick Reinert, of Charleston, SC, who painted the cover of
Catherine's Cross
, just for my novel. He even entitled the painting, “Catherine's Cross.” This is my second collaboration with Rick as he also painted the cover for my first novel,
The Cast Net
. I am indeed fortunate to have such a talented, wonderful friend!
I could not have completed the novel without the help of the Sheriff's Department of Beaufort County, South Carolina. Sheriff P.J. Tanner, Chief Deputy Michael M. Hatfield, and Master Sergeant Robert Arbelo were extremely helpful. During the summer of 2012, I went to the sheriff's department and explained my desire to make my detective hero, Seth Mason, authentic. These men showed me great courtesy, professionalism, and assistance in bringing accuracy to my novel.
I'd like to thank Reverend Chad Lawrence of St. Helena's Episcopal Church for allowing me to use his likeness and Julie, Bob, and Hilda Upton of the Shrimp Shack for permitting me to reference their restaurant. I look forward to my next shrimp dinner!
I am grateful to Dr. Danielle Bernth, who has a brilliant mind and always finds the time to share her medical knowledge with me, despite being very busy.
Thanks to Ashley Deming, with the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology, who assisted me with understanding the laws and regulations of the South Carolina Hobby Diver Program.
Several people helped me shape my novel by reading the manuscript in various stages of completion. Thanks to Vicki Haren Dwan, Dottie Ellett, Sheri Martin, Dorothy Ford, and Sara Clary.
And of course, I want to thank the Chapin Writer's Group, whose many intelligent suggestions helped in the writing of
Catherine's Cross
: Elaine Allcut, Cathy Fitzgerald, Vonnie Fulmer, Ellen Menzo, Madelyn Garcia, Sue Cryer, Edith Hawkins, Laura Lanni, Phil Anderson, and Wayne Scott.
J
ust before one in the afternoon, while Jenks was watering her ferns, she felt a strange sensation run through her body, like a chill that went to her bones. She'd had these feelings before. Both Jenks and her identical twin, Gigi, experienced them when they sensed the other was in trouble. Their mother called these instincts a gift. “God has given you two the ability to look out for one another,” she would say.
This time the chill gripped her more intensely than ever before. She reached for the telephone, and dialed Gigi's phone. The answering machine picked up. Gigi's cheerful voice said, “Leave a message, and I'll call you back . . .” When she dialed her sister's cell phone, she was forwarded to voice mail. “The owner of this cell phone is unavailable.”
Jenks left a short message. “Gigi, please call me as soon as you get this.” For the rest of the afternoon, Jenks could not stop thinking of her sister, and her continued attempts to reach her by phone were met with failure.
Just before midnight, the doorbell rang at her home. She cautiously walked to the threshold and asked, “Who is it?”
“Jenks, it's Mom and Gregg. Please open the door.”
When she opened the door, fear rushed through her limbs as she looked into her mother's eyes. She knew immediately what was wrong.
“What's happened to Gigi?” Jenks choked as she spoke.
“Baby, can we come inside?” her mother, Linda, asked.
Behind her mother and her mother's neighbor, Gregg Mikell, were two men. They were dressed in suits and both had police identification badges on lanyards around their necks.
Her mother moved quickly to Jenks and took her in her arms. Jenks could feel her mother tremble as she pulled her close. “Baby, I have terrible news,” her mother said with a shaky voice.
“Oh, Mamaâno.”
Her mother stroked her hair back and looked into Jenks's eyes. “Gigi drowned this afternoon in the Beaufort River.”
Jenks felt as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor.
One of the men who had accompanied her mother and Gregg to the house rushed forward and helped her into an armchair.
“Jenks, these are detectives with the Raleigh Police Department,” Gregg said, nodding toward the two men. “They were kind enough to come see your mother and me. A Detective Seth Mason with the Beaufort County, South Carolina Police Department contacted them this evening, and asked them for help. Gigi was diving for artifacts with Frank Hiller.”
Jenks felt numb to her very core. She had known all afternoon that something was wrong, but not this. She tried taking deep breaths, but her strength failed her. Tears began to well in her eyes, and she nearly choked while speaking. “What happened to her?”
“Miss Ellington, I'm Detective Taylor and this is Detective Turner.” Both men looked sad and worried. Detective Taylor continued, “I'm very sorry about your sister. When the lead detective, Seth Mason, called us from Beaufort, he was very concerned about this news coming to you on the telephone. He asked for our assistance. Apparently, Gigi was with her diving partner, Mr. Hiller, when something happened. She became overdue on the dive, and he began to search for her. He called the police when he realized she had to be in trouble.” He paused for a moment. “Divers with the Beaufort Sheriff's Department found her this evening. I have Detective Mason's phone number. He said he would like to assist you and your mother, and for you to please phone him.”
“Thank you,” she said as she choked back tears.
Detective Taylor nodded his head to acknowledge her statement. Jenks looked at her mother, who was sitting in an armchair, staring into space. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she sat motionless, her face lacking expression. Detective Turner went into Jenks's kitchen and returned with two glasses of water, giving one to Jenks and the other to her mother.
Linda took one sip of the water and then set the glass down on a table. Her neighbor, Gregg, went to her side and softly said, “Lindaâthe detectives may have some other work they need to do. They can give us a ride back home.”
She nodded her head, and then softly said to Jenks, “Would you please call the investigator in Beaufort. I don't think I can.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Gregg helped Linda from her chair, and the police officer assisted her toward the front door. Detective Taylor turned back and put a couple of business cards in Jenks's hand. “This is Detective Mason's phone number and my business card. We'll help you in any way we can. Don't hesitate to call us.”
“Thank you.”
Gregg left Linda standing beside Detective Turner, and he returned to speak with Jenks. “Are you going to be all right here?”
“Yes, Gregg, thank you.”
“I'll look after your mother tonight, so don't you worry. I'll call you in the morning to let you know what time we'll be picking you up to go to Beaufort. I'll drive.”
She nodded as she wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Gregg closed the front door behind him and the room became intensely quiet. Drawing a deep breath, she picked up the telephone beside the couch and dialed Detective Mason's phone number.
It rang a couple of times before a firm voice answered, “Detective Mason.”
Jenks had a difficult time beginning the conversation and she choked on her words.
The detective responded after a few moments. “Miss Ellington?”
“Yes, Detective.”
“The Raleigh Police Department informed me that they went to see your mother and you. I'm very sorry about your sister, Gigi.”
“I just don't understand how this could have happened,” Jenks said in a high-pitched voice.
“She was with her diving partner, Frank Hiller. According to Mr. Hiller, they were diving in an area where they had recovered numerous artifacts. An old wharf used to be there. Mr. Hiller lost contact with her, and when she didn't surface, he said he began to look for her . . . when it became clear she was in trouble, he called the police. We searched the river for her . . . I'm sorry, but we recovered her body this evening.”
Jenks drew in a deep breath. “Where is she now?”
“She's been taken to the Medical University of South Carolinaâfor an autopsy.”
Jenks could barely get her words out, but she told him, “I'll be riding to Beaufort in the morning with my mother and her friend.”
“I'll be available to assist youâthe sheriff's department is at 2001 Ribaut Street. Just ask for Detective Seth Mason.” The last thing he said was, “I'm sorry. I know how you feel.”
As she hung up the receiver, Jenks felt like she was in a daze. Could this really be happening?
She dropped to the floor and slammed her fists onto the hardwood floor. Wails of grief came from deep within her. She sobbed until her body shook. “God no, don't let this be true!”
This was surreal. The shock was debilitating, and she lay on the floor for a long time, unable to move, weeping tears of inconsolable anguish. Her only thoughtsâof Gigi and the fear she must have felt as she drowned.
