Catherine's Cross (12 page)
J
enks woke early the next morning and after putting on a bathrobe, she walked to the newspaper box at the street. David Bernstein was outside working in his flower beds and he called out to her.
“Jenkins, I hope you're well this morning.”
“Yes, David, and you and Leah?”
“Real good,” he responded. “If you don't do this early, it can be too hot to work in the yard in the afternoon,” he said as he pointed his trowel toward his plant beds.
“Have a good day,” she said as she walked inside.
On the front page of the
Beaufort Gazette
was a headline, “Late Evening Boat Collision Leaves Two Dead.”
Jenks took the newspaper into the house and sat down at the kitchen table to read and drink a cup of coffee. As she read about the boat collision, she felt sick. One of the boats had come across the top of another watercraft killing a young woman, Elizabeth Jones, age 28, and her fiancé, Samuel Worthington, age 29. The article stated both victims were in residency at the Medical University of South Carolina. The collision had occurred around ten p.m. on the Beaufort River, and the couple who perished were sitting at the rear of the boat. The article stated that they were with another couple who were at the boat's controls and were spared from the impact of the other watercraft. The operator of the powerboat that had collided with them had kept going after the incident. He had not bothered to come back and check on the passengers on the stricken boat.
Feeling outraged, she said, almost swearing, “I can't believe they didn't bother to come back.”
She shook her head and took another sip of coffee before the phone rang. She answered and Seth asked, “How are you this morning?”
“I'm all right, but I am upset by a report in the newspaper. I read about the boat collision on the Beaufort River last night.”
“Yes, it's terrible. The son of aâthe operator of the boat that went over the rear portion of the other watercraft just kept on going.”
“That's horrible,” she responded.
“Why don't you and I pick up Rory this afternoon and go to the Shrimp Shack for dinner? I spoke to him a few minutes ago, and he said he'd like to do that.”
“What time should I be ready?”
“Four-thirtyâfive o'clock? I'm really tired. I was up all night working the boat collision with Detective Campbell.”
“Get some rest. I look forward to seeing you this afternoon.”
After she hung up the phone, she stepped out onto the screened porch. Mr. Bernstein had moved into his backyard and was trimming bushes.
From the home of the Forrests, she heard her neighbor Marvin Forrest yell out, “Crawford! Where is it?”
Mr. Bernstein looked toward the home and then shook his head. He went back to trimming the bush.
Jenks remembered that Gigi had said that the Forrests were somewhat reclusive and she did not see them too often. The Bernsteins had told Gigi that Mr. Forrest had some drinking issues and rarely came outside the house. However, Jenks found Mrs. Forrest to be friendly and wondered how she held up so well living with an alcoholic.
A crash of breaking glass followed and a bottle was hurled into the backyard. Startled, Jenks grabbed the back of a chair, and Mr. Bernstein dropped his trimmers to the ground. “Do you mind if I cross your yard? I'm going to check on the Forrests.”
“No, I don't mind at all,” Jenks choked out.
He quickly crossed her lawn and knocked at the rear door of the Forrest house.
The door opened, and Mr. Bernstein went inside.
Jenks took a deep breath. The fragrance of fresh perennials was heavy in the air.
At eleven o'clock the first real estate agent with whom she had an appointment, Glenn Moore, rang the doorbell. She invited him inside, and the first words from his mouth were, “I'm sorry about your sister. You explained about her passing, but I read about her drowning in the
Gazette
. Terrible tragedy.”
Jenks felt tears begin to well in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. “Please have a seat at the dining table,” she said as she motioned for him to sit down.
He took the tax records for Gigi's home out of a briefcase and explained that if the house were to sell there might be a loss on the home. “I'm afraid your sister bought the house while prices were rising, and there has been a sharp downturn in property values.” He asked her to show him around the house, and she took him from room to room and then to the outside.
“Your sister certainly took good care of the home.”
Once they went back inside, he went over a marketing plan that relied on his company's website and magazine to do the advertising. “Do you know what your sister owed on the home?”
“My sister had paid off the mortgage,” she responded. Jenks opened a folder and handed him the paid tax receipt from the previous year. He looked at the statement and then brought up a price. Reaching inside his briefcase he removed documents and placed them in front of her. “This is the exclusive right-to-sell contract. Please sign and fill out the information on the bottom of the page.”
She took a deep breath and said, “Mr. Moore, I did mention to you that I would be interviewing several people. I'm not prepared to sign a contract at this time.”
“My company has led the Beaufort area in home sales for the past five years. You're not going to find a more capable team than mine.”
Jenks took a deep breath. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Moore, but I'll let you know something after I talk to the other real estate agents.”
He gathered his paperwork and then handed her his business card as he went to the front door.
“I appreciate your coming by,” she said as she closed the door behind him.
Whew, a little too pushy
. At one in the afternoon, the second real estate agent arrived. She was wearing khaki pants and a neat pullover polo shirt. “I'm Agnes Manning,” she said with a smile, while extending her right hand for a handshake.
“Come in, Ms. Manning. If you'd like, please put your things on the table.”
She had a large tote bag, and she set her work materials in the chair beside the table. “I don't want to scratch your furniture.” After she placed her tote bag in the chair, she said, “I'm sorry about your sister.”
“Thank you, I am too.”
They were quiet for a moment until Agnes said, “Why don't you show me the house, and then we'll take a look around the outside.”
They walked through each room in the home and then they went around the outside. “Lovely home,” she said. As they walked around the perimeter of the house, Agnes commented, “I think it would enhance the curb view if you put some fresh pine straw around the shrubbery.”
“Thank you for the suggestion.”
When they returned indoors, Agnes pulled out a pair of athletic shoes from her bag and a large tape measure. “Sometimes the square footage of a home on the tax records is inaccurate, so I measure the homes I list for sale.” She returned outside and taped the perimeter of the dwelling. When she finished, Agnes used a calculator to compute the square footage. Upon reentering the house she said, “It appears the tax assessor did a good job on measuring this home. I was within five feet of the square footage that appears in the tax recordsâ1,350 square feet.”
“Thank you for taking the time to measure Gigi's house.”
“You're welcome.” After that they sat down, and Agnes showed her a marketing plan that included advertising on her own website, local magazine advertising, open houses, and newspaper ads. Her market analysis detailed the recent sale of homes in the Port Royal area. “I think it would be dishonest for me to give you any type of time frame on how long it might take to sell your sister's home. It's just a tough market right now.” She paused for a moment, “You are designated the personal representative in your sister's will, aren't you?”
“Yes, ma'am, and I am authorized to sell property on her behalf. Here's a copy of the will.” Jenks had started the probate process and had filed the will with the Beaufort County Probate Court. She showed Agnes where this was documented. Agnes then referred back to her market analysis and gave her a price range. “I hate to see you sell at a loss, but I'm afraid that prices have been declining.”
“I prefer your honesty.”
“I know you're interviewing other agents, but I'd like to assist you with the sale of the home. I'd really like to have your business.”
“Agnes, thank you for coming by, and I'll call you after I reach a decision.” She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “There is one thing I need to tell you. My sister's home was broken into right after her death. It was as if someone was looking for a specific item.”
Agnes looked at her intently. “That's a material fact and should be disclosed to the buyer. Is there a police report concerning the break-in?”
“Yes, there is. Only one item was takenâmy sister's computer.”
A frown crossed Agnes's brow. She paused for a moment, and then her expression brightened. “We'll hope for a Marine drill sergeant.”
Agnes picked up her real estate materials and headed for the door. “Here's my business card, Miss Ellington. I look forward to hearing from you.”
Jenks felt comfortable with her. Agnes was straightforward, thorough, and friendlyâa pleasant combination.
The last real estate agent that she planned to interview would come the next day at ten, and then she would make a decision.
At four-thirty, there was a knock on Jenks's front door, and she quickly walked to it. Using the peephole, she smiled when she saw Seth at the door. When she opened it, he was wearing dark-colored khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. His chest and arm muscles protruded inside the shirt and he took her in his arms. “I missed you today.”
She took a deep breath as she admired his handsome physique. “I've been thinking about you too.”
“Uh-oh, that could be bad.”
“No, I promise it was all good.”
He kissed her several times on the face and then asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
Just as they got ready to close the door, a loud rumble of thunder sounded close by. “I'm going to get a rain jacket and a few towels, just in case we need them to sit on at the Shrimp Shack.” She quickly gathered the items and then returned to walk with him to his truck. He closed the door behind her and said, “After you, my dear.”
By the time they reached Rory's home, the winds were picking up and the clouds had turned to a dark shade of silver gray. They ran up the ramp to his house as rain began to fall. Within a few moments, it was pouring. Rory bought out a deck of cards and said, “Bugger your neighbor, anyone?”
“What?” Jenks asked, feeling herself blush.
“It's a card game,” Seth laughed. “Rory, watch your language.”
“Yes, sir,” he said with a smile.
They played cards until the rainstorm passed. Seth pushed Rory's wheelchair out onto his deck. Water was still standing on the wooden boards, and a light mist of rain was in the air. Rory looked up at him. “Will you drive my van?”
“Sure, I'll be glad to.”
Seth helped Rory get inside the van. A platform came down on the passenger side and Seth rolled the wheelchair on top of it. When he toggled a switch, the platform came up and Rory rolled himself inside.
On the short drive to the Shrimp Shack, Rory said, “I want to pay for dinner tonight. You bought the last time. You need to be saving your money for law school.”
“Why don't we just go Dutch tonight?” Jenks volunteered.
“All right,” Seth responded.
Since Rory could not climb the stairs at the Shrimp Shack, Seth went to the window with Jenks to order. There were several men inside the upper screened-in area, and when they noticed Rory, they went down and shook his hand. After Seth finished ordering, he and Jenks went back down to the ground-level screened-in porch and sat with Rory. Rose, who ran the ordering window, came down with their dinners on two trays. There was a stack of cash on the side of one of the trays. She put her arm around Rory and said, “I's glad to see you. You as handsome as ever.” She kissed him on the forehead and said, “One of those gentlemen that was in the restaurant paid for all your meals. He says he want to remain anonymous, but he want you to know how proud he is of you.”
“Thank you, Rose,” Rory said.
She then kissed Seth on the cheek and looking at Jenks she said, “Mmmm . . . you is one lucky woman!”
While they ate their meals, Rory asked, “Sethâdo you have any idea who was driving the boat that killed the couple boating on the Beaufort River?”
“No, not yetâthe motorboat and its driver disappeared without a trace. The sheriff's department searched the waterways by boat and helicopter todayâbut no clues.”
