Catherine's Cross (3 page)

“Barotrauma?”

“Yes, your sister was diving with scuba equipment. A breath of compressed air taken at depth can over expand in the lungs if a diver does not breathe out while ascending. The diver's lungs do not sense pain when the air over expands, but an injury can result. In the depth of water that they were diving, that should not have been a factor. Also, she was wearing gloves, and the check for material under her fingernails did not reveal anything.”

Jenks remembered that Gigi had cut her hand on a broken bottle during one of the dives and had started wearing gloves to prevent injury.

“It could take up to two weeks to get the toxicology results, but I have asked the lab to expedite the process.”

“I don't understand how this could have occurred.”

“Perhaps the toxicology report will reveal new information,” Detective Mason said.

Gigi had adored the Port Royal community. She told Jenks once that she had heard that the Port Royal of the past was known for three things: bars, fighting, and shrimping. But with the prospect of the port terminal being developed, new businesses had been established. Unfortunately, the port project had failed and during the economic downturn, shops had closed, and some homes were in foreclosure.

Jenks knew that Gigi was proud of her cottage. She had renovated it doing much of the work herself. Gigi had landscaped and decorated her home to be one of the loveliest in the neighborhood.

There were a number of military personnel living in Port Royal since the Marine training base at Parris Island was a short distance away. On the street where she lived, Marine flags flew from the front of a few homes.

Neighbors continued to come by for brief visits to Jenks and her mother. The Bernsteins, who lived next door, brought over casseroles, and they promised to keep a close eye on Gigi's house. The neighbor to the other side of her home, Crawford Forrest, came by twice. Gigi had told Jenks that she had become friends with the Bernsteins, but while the Forrests were cordial, they usually stayed to themselves.

Jenks and her mother returned to Raleigh to make preparations for Gigi's funeral. Several days after they returned home, Detective Mason phoned Jenks.

“Miss Ellington, I hope you are well. I wanted to let you know that I have the results from the toxicology tests. The lab was very helpful and got the findings back to me as quickly as they could.”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, Detective.”

“There was no alcohol or chemicals in her system.”

“I would have been surprised if there had been,” Jenks replied. “And Gigi was a very capable swimmer. So there's no way to know what happened?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for just a moment, and then the detective said, “Miss Ellington, there's something bothering me. Frank Hiller is a former Navy diver, and navy divers work with partners or as a team. I know accidents do happen, but with all of Frank's training, I don't understand how he would allow his partner to get into trouble.”

“Why would he allow harm to come to her?”

“At this point I don't know.”

When they finished their conversation, Jenks hung up the receiver and sat down on the couch.
There is no explanation for Gigi's drowning . . . Perhaps Frank Hiller has some answers.

On a Sunday afternoon, under clear blue skies, Gigi was laid to rest beside her father in a family plot that had been in the Ellington family for several generations. She was just twenty-six years of age. During the service, hot, stinging tears flowed from Jenks's eyes. She felt suffocated, as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs.

Wiping tears away, Jenks locked her eyes on Frank Hiller when she saw him in the crowd of mourners. Standing about ten feet away from him was Detective Mason. When her eyes met with the detective's, he nodded to her. As soon as the service was over, Frank approached Jenks and her mother. He told them again how sorry he was about Gigi.

“Frank, will you take a walk with me?” Jenks asked.

“Yes, I'll be glad to.”

They left the group of people and walked about twenty-five feet away to the shade of an oak tree. Jenks felt cold chills envelop her as she began the conversation. “Frank—the autopsy results and the toxicology report have come back on Gigi.”

“Yes, Jenks?”

“There is no physical reason for her having drowned . . . no broken bones, no chemicals or alcohol in her system. She was a very capable swimmer.”

“Jenks, what are you implying?”

“I want to know what happened to her.”

“I don't like where this conversation is headed.” Frank's face darkened with wrinkles and he stepped in her direction, towering over her. “I didn't do anything to harm your sister, if that's what you're thinking.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.

She immediately recoiled, taking a step backward.

“Jenks—I'll overlook this. I know that you're very upset right now.”

“Everything all right here?” Detective Mason said as he stepped toward them.

“Yes, I was just finishing my conversation with Jenks.” Frank gave Jenks a quick nod and then turned away. The detective stood by her and they watched Frank leave the cemetery and walk to his car.

“What was that about?” the detective asked.

“I told him I wanted to know what happened to Gigi.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he didn't do anything to harm her.”

“And you expected him to say otherwise?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at her.

She wiped away a tear. “So what do we do now?”

“I need strong proof of foul play to go before a judge for an arrest warrant. We're going to look for new evidence.”

She looked at the metal casket holding her twin sister. A new wave of tears came into her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Choking back the tears, she said, “After the school year is over, I'll be coming to Beaufort to pack her things and put her house on the market.”

“You've got my phone numbers. I would like to help you in any way that I can.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

Besides Jenks, he was the last person to leave.

Several nights after the funeral, Jenks began to experience dreams about her sister. The most disturbing thing about the dreams was the acute realism. Gigi's mahogany-colored hair was loose around her shoulders, and her hazel eyes were bright and alive. In each nightmare, Gigi appeared to Jenks wearing a gold cross around her neck. A voice repeated the word
twins
. Jenks would wake in a profuse sweat, unable to get the image out of her mind.

On the third night of enduring the nightmare about her sister, Jenks was awakened by a ringing sound. At first she could not place the sound as she emerged from the darkness of the dream, but as it continued, she realized it was the ringing of her telephone. The time on her alarm clock was four a.m.

Lifting the receiver, she heard an edgy voice on the other end of the line say in a whisper, “Miss Ellington, this is David Bernstein down in Beaufort. I apologize for calling at this hour, but someone has broken into your sister's home. I woke to go to the bathroom, and I saw a flashlight beam inside her house. I have called the police, but I wanted you to know. The police should be here any minute.”

Jenks rose from bed and made coffee. There would be no more sleep, but that also meant there would be no more nocturnal visits from her sister that night.

At five a.m. the phone rang again, and David Bernstein was once again on the line. “Miss Ellington, the police are at your sister's, but the place is too much of a shambles to tell if anything is missing. Whoever was in her house turned the place upside down.”

“Mr. Bernstein, thank you for calling me. Could you please make sure the policeman on duty calls me? I'll be leaving for work around seven.”

“I will, Miss Ellington.”

At six forty-five the phone rang, but this time it was Detective Mason. “Miss Ellington, I'm troubled about your sister's home being broken into. There have been incidents of property invasions in Port Royal, and I hate the thought that someone might have been aware of her passing and knew the house was empty.”

“That's a horrible thought.”

“What bothers me is that there are no signs of forced entry. Mr. Bernstein and his wife are going to look over her place this morning to see if they can determine if any of her belongings are missing. Most of her possessions are on the floor. It's as if someone was searching for a particular item.”

“What about her antique bottles on the shelves beside the fireplace?”

“As far as I can tell, the collection has not been disturbed.”

“Thank you, Detective Mason. Were you the officer on duty?”

“No ma'am, the officer who received the initial call phoned me at home. He was aware that your sister had recently passed away and that I was in charge of her . . .”

He paused for a moment and Jenks interjected, “Detective Mason, I'll be home around four o'clock, and would it be all right if I call you then? I have your business card.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said before saying good-bye.

The news of the break-in had distracted her with intense worry. As Jenks led the class in social studies, she fumbled her words repeatedly, and her hands shook as she wrote on the chalkboard. At recess, one of her students approached her. “Are you all right, Miss Ellington?” Joey Adams asked. “I noticed your hands shaking.”

“Thank you, Joey. I have a lot on my mind today.” She patted him on the shoulder and smiled. “Go enjoy recess, and I'll see you in a few minutes.” He smiled back and then left the classroom.

For the rest of the day, the children were especially quiet except when called upon to answer questions; she concluded that Joey must have mentioned his concerns about her to the other students. Jenks knew that she had not done a good job for them since the death of her sister, but she had difficulty concentrating, and hoped the students would forgive her. There were only a few weeks left before summer vacation, and she wanted to focus on her work well enough to give the students the attention they deserved. Then the painful task of packing her sister's possessions and selling her house would begin.