Catherine's Cross (26 page)

“Here we go,” he said through the headset.

Jenks felt butterflies in her stomach as he applied power to the engine. Rolling down the runway, the airplane took flight in a short amount of time.

She gripped the handles of the seat as the airplane went airborne. Looking over the side of the plane, Jenks marveled at the waterways and marshes, which shimmered in the sunlight. She noticed the town of Beaufort on the right side of the airplane; the structures appearing to diminish in size as the aircraft ascended.

Hale placed a radio call to the controllers at the Beaufort Marine Station. Jenks listened as he told them his intentions and the controller responded that the Beaufort Military Operations Area was
not hot
. After he finished speaking with the controller, Hale explained through the headset that not hot meant there were no military aircraft operating in the practice area. He then said in a reassuring voice, “I promise to be gentle, but it's time to have some fun.”

They flew to an area where waterways were underneath them, and then Hale began to do a series of dives, pulling up into a sharp bank above the marsh. With each one, Jenks felt exhilarated, like she was on a rollercoaster.

“Hang on now,” he exclaimed before he executed a barrel roll above the waterway.

“Wow, that was outstanding,” she told him as they completed the maneuver.

After he finished the aerobatics he had planned, they flew along the coastline. She recognized the lighthouse at Hunting Island State Park, and sunbathers on the beach waved to them as they went past.

When the flight was over, Hale landed the airplane on the runway they had departed on. She felt the right gear touch down first, followed by the left, and then the tail wheel. She still had butterflies in her stomach from the excitement she felt during the flight. Hale taxied the Citabria to the tarmac in front of his hangar, and Jenks saw Seth standing near the building with a smile on his face. He came to the airplane, helped her dismount, and then put his arm around her.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Fabulous!”

“I knew you would,” he said as he kissed her on the forehead. His hand went to her back, which was damp.

“Do I detect a bit of perspiration? I hope not from nervousness.”

“I was just so excited!” She turned and faced Hale. “I had a wonderful time. Thank you for taking me flying.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said with a broad smile. “We'll go again sometime.”

CHAPTER 11
Twenty Orchid Avenue

O
n Monday, Jenks drove to Amanda Stevens's residence to pick her up for the Beaufort Library's summer reading program. Amanda's grandmother lived on St. Helena Island, and Jenks found the property in a secluded area along a marsh. The view across the waterway was pristine. A tidal creek ran along the perimeter of the land, and cord grass and pluff mud stretched to a distant bank.

In the yard were old pieces of machinery; an aged motorboat lay partially on its side, and an old seventies Plymouth was sitting on concrete blocks. The yard was full of plastic planters, and a small tomato garden was to one side of a frame house painted a bright shade of blue. Chickens were roaming around the yard, pecking at the ground for food. A large red-and-orange rooster crowed.

When Amanda saw Jenks pull up at the front of the home, she dashed out of the screen door with a beaming smile on her face.

“Miss Jenkins, I appreciate your coming to get me.”

“You're welcome,” Jenks replied with a smile.

Amanda's grandmother came outside, followed by two small boys who were holding toy cars. “Miss Ellington, it sure is nice of you to come and get Amanda. She hate that she miss the last meeting at the library. I'm Ella Robinson.”

Jenks shook her hand. “I'm glad that I could help. Amanda's doing such a good job on her reading.”

“She sure do enjoy it.”

“I'll have her back here before noon,” Jenks commented.

“When you come back, it would give us great pleasure if you'd stay with us for lunch.”

“Yes, ma'am, thank you. I'll look forward to it.”

Amanda sat in the rear of Jenks's Jeep, and they started the drive to Beaufort.

“Who are the little boys that are staying with your grandmother?”

“They's my little brothers, Samuel and Harry.”

“Do you three live with your grandmother?”

“Yes um, my mama works in Hilton Head at a hotel, and my daddy don't live with us. She has to get up real early to get to work, so my Grammie takes care of us.”

The morning was getting warm and Jenks and Amanda rolled down the windows, allowing the air to blow through the vehicle. As they crossed the marshlands, the smell of the sea and pluff mud entered the car. Jenks breathed deeply, taking in the salty smells of the coast.

When they reached the library, the children picked out books to read. After they had been given time to read, each student picked a passage to read to their group. Amanda had chosen
Kidnapped
.

“Amanda, I believe you're a Robert Louis Stevenson fan.”

“Yes, ma'am,” she beamed.

Starting her passage, Amanda read, “The sun began to shine upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road . . .”

When her reading was complete, she smiled at Jenks and the other children and took her seat. Every child read a passage, and Jenks helped them with pronunciations when they needed assistance.

By noon, Jenks and Amanda returned to the home of Ella Robinson. The day had become very warm with high humidity, and Jenks felt perspiration run down the back of her shirt. When they pulled up in the yard, Amanda's grandmother opened the screen door and yelled out, “Lunch is ready. Y'all come on in here and have a seat.”

Jenks and Amanda entered the house through the kitchen door and the screen closed with a bang as it shut behind them. A ceiling fan briskly rotated in the room and a feast of black-eyed peas, cornbread, sliced tomatoes, and fried shrimp was on the table.

“Thank you for inviting me to join you,” Jenks said. “This looks wonderful!”

Mrs. Robinson smiled broadly. “Oh yes, ma'am, Amanda says you been real nice to her, and we's glad to have you join us. Please, everyone have a seat, and let's join hands in prayer.”

Amanda's grandmother blessed the food, and when she finished, the children started passing the serving bowls around.

“Miss Jenkins, I's sorry 'bout your sister. I read 'bout it in the newspaper when she passed.”

“Mrs. Robinson, thank you.”

“Amanda, please pass the peas, honey,” her grandmother said. “Are you planning to stay here, Miss Ellington?”

“Please call me Jenks . . . I'd like to stay here, but I have a teaching job in Cary, North Carolina, to return to next month.”

“Honey, if you want to stay here, I'd find a way to do it. Life is too short to be unhappy. You is right 'bout your job though . . . if you got a job is best to hang on to it. There's lots of folks that's unemployed right now.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

During the meal, the children were quiet and well behaved. When Jenks looked up from her plate, the two little boys would be looking at her. She would smile at them, and then they'd smile back.

When the meal was finished, Jenks thanked Mrs. Robinson for the delicious meal and offered to help her clean up.

“Oh no, Miss Jenks, I'll take care of this after a while . . . I think you inspire Amanda to read. My gran's got someting to show you.”

“We have to go outside,” Amanda said with a smile.

Amanda and her two little brothers led Jenks toward the tidal creek. The tide was going out and the children went to a wagon and removed sailboats made from bottles and Popsicle sticks. Inside the bottles were rolled up pieces of paper. Amanda removed the cork from one of the bottles and the note slid out.

“This is the poem I read by Robert Louis Stevenson, ‘Where Go the Boats?' I wrote my address after the poem so that when someone else finds the boat they can write me. ‘Other little children shall bring my boats ashore,'” she said with a smile.

“Amanda, I think this is wonderful,” Jenks told her.

“I helped my little brothers with their poems. We wanted to launch them with you.”

Jenks smiled as the children took their bottle boats and went to the end of a weathered dock. The children placed their boats in the water, which were quickly caught in a current that took them out to the river.

The foursome watched the bottle boats until they disappeared from view.

When Jenks returned to Port Royal, she decided to drive past the house where she had seen the young woman's face in the window several days before. She arrived at the house and saw the screen door was standing open.

Jenks parked her Jeep in the driveway and gazed at the home's deteriorated condition. The screens sagged on the windows, and the wooden siding was in a state of decay. Looking up to the window where she had seen the girl, she saw only a dark background. She thought of her and wondered if she was all right.

From the girl's appearance, Jenks had concluded she was probably in her late teens or early twenties. They could not be very far apart in age, and she thought she could invite the young woman over for refreshments and conversation.

Jenks got out of her Jeep and walked toward the porch. The yard had been mowed, but there were signs that the landscaping was simply being maintained, not properly tended. Weeds proliferated in the daylily beds, and numerous fire-ant mounds were around the foundation of the home.

She carefully walked up the pathway to the house and entered the screen porch. Looking inside the home through the window on the front door, she recoiled and drew a deep breath. To her astonishment, the home was completely empty of furniture. A strong wind came off the river and caught the screen door slamming it shut. She flinched as the noise startled her.

Jenks walked to the door and, examining the latch, realized it was broken. Suddenly, feeling very uncomfortable, she descended the steps and returned to her vehicle.

Without stopping again, Jenks returned to her home, parking the Jeep in the driveway. As she closed the car door, David Bernstein called to her from next door.

“Leah has just made some lemonade. Please join us for a glass.”

She felt perspiration trickle down her back. “Yes, I'd love to. It's another warm day.”

The Bernsteins rose from their seats as Jenks came up on their front porch. Leah poured her a tall glass of lemonade from a pitcher.

“Have a chair,” David offered.

The Bernsteins had a handsome collection of antique wicker furniture on their front porch, and Jenks sat down in a rocker with a chintz fabric cushion.

“Does it ever cool down here?”

“Not until October, and then the days can still be warm. Any interest in Gigi's house?”

“No, I'm afraid we've had very few showings.”

“Until the foreclosure epidemic is over in this country, there will be no recovery in the real estate market,” David declared.

“I suppose it doesn't help that Gigi's home was broken into recently. If someone was really interested, that could scare them.”

“Let's hope not,” Leah added.

Jenks rested her head back on the chair and looked up at a ceiling fan that was rapidly rotating above her, sending cooling breezes across the porch.

She sipped her lemonade and then said, “The other day I walked past a house that's a couple of blocks from here on Orchid Avenue. The house is vacant, but there was a young woman staring at me from an upstairs window.”

The Bernsteins looked cautiously at one another, and then David asked, “Twenty Orchid Avenue?”

“Yes, sir, how did you know that?”

“Did the girl have long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes?”

A cold shiver ran up Jenks's spine, and she sat forward in her chair. “Yes, how did you know?”

“I believe I have an explanation for the young woman you saw. Her name was Helena Pierce.”

“I don't understand what you mean.”

“Jenkins—Helena Pierce was murdered in that house in the mid-1950s.”

“What?”

“Dear, you're not the first person to see her. She was home alone one evening. Her parents had gone to a movie and someone broke into their house and killed Helena. The killer was never caught. She was just eighteen years old.”

“Oh, my God,” Jenks said as she rocked forward in her chair.

“She must have been reaching out to you,” Leah said.

Jenks was stunned by this information. White-knuckled, she gripped the arms of her rocking chair. “Who owns the house?”

“Helena's cousin, who lives in Maryland. He tried to sell it a few years ago, but was unsuccessful.”

“I can understand why,” Jenks responded. As she talked with the Bernsteins, one thought would not leave her: Helena Pierce was not at rest because her murderer was never brought to justice. She thought of Gigi and a feeling of dread went deep into her soul.