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Authors: Millie West

Tags: #FIC044000, #FIC027000, #FIC22000

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BOOK: Catherine's Cross
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Jenks moved to the shelves with a bottle collection and lifted one of them.

“They're clean.”

“Yes, we clean items at Dr. Walker's house and then bring them back here.”

“South Carolina Dispensary,” Jenks read.

“During the administration of Governor Ben Tillman in the late 1800s and early 1900s, South Carolina dispensed her own liquor. That's one of the bottles.”

“I like the palmetto tree design on it.”

She returned the bottle to its place on the shelf. “This is amazing. I bet collectors would love to acquire these items.”

“We think the items belong here with the land they came from.”

“Are you making a point with me?”

“Yes, ma'am. Your sister is dead, and your mother does not need to lose her other daughter. I don't want any harm to come to you. Someone tore your sister's house apart looking for something. If they think you've recovered valuable artifacts, you could be in danger.”

She looked up into the warmth of his golden-brown eyes. His arm slid around her shoulder, and he embraced her in a hug.

“You smell so good—like citrus,” she said as she snuggled against him.

“Are you ready for a picnic?” he said with a smile.

“Yes, sir.”

They walked toward the woods, crossing a sandy roadway.

“Where does the lane go?”

“It comes out near the hunt club. We use that road to drive back here.”

Seth led her to the edge of the meadow and spread out a picnic blanket on the ground underneath a live oak tree. Opening the basket, he began to set out food he had packed for their lunch.

“What's on the menu?”

“Chicken sandwiches and fruit salad.”

Seth removed a bottle of wine from the basket and opened it with a corkscrew. He poured her a glass of wine and then poured one for himself. They clinked their glasses together and he said, “I'm thankful to have you here with me.”

She smiled. “I love being with you too.”

As they ate, Jenks asked, “How long did it take you to restore the cabin?”

“About a year—we couldn't work on it all the time. I enjoyed the process though.”

He was quiet for a moment as though in deep thought. “When Steel and I were young, we often explored the woods near our home in Georgia. We spent hours up in the hills near Asbury. On one of our adventures, we came across an old cabin. It was constructed from hardwood trees and mud was placed between the stacked logs for insulation. The metal roof was still intact, and we were careful not to disturb anything.

“There was an abandoned well behind the cabin, and it was covered with a sheet of metal. We lifted the cover once to look inside, and were amazed at the depth of the well and how wide it was.

“On one of our trips to the cabin we made a mistake and allowed a neighbor to come with us—Chris Lytton. We showed him the cabin, and he promised not to tell anyone about it.”

Seth took a drink of his wine before continuing. “Chris Lytton should have been horse whipped. He took a group of boys up there, and they destroyed the cabin. They collapsed the roof by jumping on top of it.”

“That's terrible.”

“They got their just deserts. Those smart guys decided to look inside the well, and they removed the cover and poured gasoline into it. One of them struck a match and the gasoline along with natural gases that were built up inside the well exploded. A fireball came out of the chasm and set them ablaze—a couple of the boys got burned.” A frown crossed his brow. “They had no business vandalizing that property. The cabin didn't belong to them.”

“You sound like Meta Jane.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her relative—the man who called for the sale of his family's property. Through deceit, he caused his extended family to lose their land on the May River. Remember—his sapphire-blue Cadillac was found submerged by fishermen at Nairne Point.”

“Did she have any sympathy for him?”

“No—she said she hoped he had a visit with a shark.”

“I have a hard time empathizing with people who commit hurtful crimes against others.”

Jenks raised her eyebrows. “Are you allowing me a glimpse into your darker side?”

He frowned slightly. “We all have our dark sides. Some people are more affected—or controlled—by their darker tendencies than others.” Jenks squeezed the napkin in her hand and looked into Seth's eyes.

“What happened to Chris Lytton?”

“Steel got his hands on him—but under the circumstances, I thought he went light on him—only a few bruises.

“Oh, my,” Jenks said as she shook her head.

“You must remember that we were raised in an abusive household. At the time, solving problems through violence was acceptable to us.”

Jenks stared down at her clasped hands before asking, “Tell me more about Steel.”

“Growing up he was fearless. I think I told you we did almost everything together, but he was usually the leader. He was the dominant twin, and once he set a goal for himself, he worked at it until he accomplished the task.”

“You've just described Gigi.”

The both looked at one another for a moment, and then Jenks changed the subject. “How did you get to know the Walkers?”

“You know that I was in his history class, and when the course was complete they invited me to come out here and go fishing. We developed a strong friendship. I can't begin to measure the positive influence they've had on my life. They both have many fine qualities, but I think what I admire the most about them is the kind and respectful manner in which they treat one another.” He paused for a moment as if in reflective thought. “I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to have been raised by gentle souls like the Walkers instead of my tyrannical father.”

“Did they have children?”

“No, they didn't.” He laughed slightly and then added, “When I got out of the Marines, I was a still a country boy from the Georgia hills. I took a job in a grocery store while I was attending college. A lady came in one day and asked me to direct her to the pecans. She pronounced it
pee
-cans and I thought she meant the restroom. I gave her directions to the ladies' room.”

Jenks laughed and put her arms around him. After they hugged, he pulled her tightly against him. “I'm crazy about you.”

“It's mutual,” she responded.

He caressed the side of her cheek with his hand.

“When you go out with Dave Patterson to look for the Elliott treasure, I want to arrange to be off work so I can accompany you.”

“Are you worried about me?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER 9
“Where Go the Boats”

W
hen Dave Patterson returned from Savannah, Seth and Jenks met him at the downtown marina. His wife, Candice, had come with him to serve as his diving partner. Jenks brought out her map of the coastal waterways around Beaufort. She had marked her calculations on the map of the route she thought the
Defiance
might have traveled. Dave studied the chart and said, “Miss Jenkins, I understand how you came up with these estimations. Your technique is close to the Bayesian method.”

“What's that?”

“It's a way of calculating the location of shipwrecks.” He paused for a moment. “In 1857, the SS
Central America
went down in a hurricane off the coast of the Carolinas. It was referred to as the ship of gold.” He glanced at the map. “A little over twenty years ago, a salvage team, the Columbus-America Discovery Group, used the Bayesian theory to locate the ship. They were just about to give up on their search when they noticed some unusual shapes showing up on underwater photos taken by a robot sub.”

“What were they?”

“These unusual shapes turned out to be stacks of gold ingots; stacked in the same way that they were when the ship went down. They could even read the mint date on coins they located near the ingots. The wood and iron of the ship had disintegrated, but the gold was there, in virtually the same condition as when the ship went down.”

“Wow,” Jenks said quietly.

Dave looked back at Jenks's calculations and said, “We know that at the time that the ship got under way, the tide was starting to go out. They would have had an outgoing tide for a portion of the journey, which would have given them greater speed. We don't know when they rigged the sails, since the ship was powered with a screw propeller. The sails would have been the most efficient with the winds quartering from the rear. Your notes state the winds were twenty knots out of the south.” He pointed to the chart and showed them where the ship would have picked up the most effective winds.

“I understand that you've estimated the vessel would have had a hull speed of about twelve knots, and you're basing that on similar Civil War era ships that you researched.” He pointed to a location on the map. “I see how you reached your conclusions, and we'll try out by Woodward Point. The depth of the water's about twenty-five feet in that vicinity. We'll get out there about the time the tides are turning around, so the current won't be so much of a factor.”

When they reached the area off Woodward Point, Dave and Candice prepared for the dive. They inspected each other's equipment. After a final safety check of their regulators, they descended into the murky water, disappearing beneath the surface.

“Jenks, do you remember the minister who was mugged in his own churchyard?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Last night, the same assailant attempted to rob a convenience store in Walterboro, but the owner shot him. The minister who had been held at gunpoint made the identification. Afterward, he remained with the man and prayed for him. Detective Campbell was there. He said that the assailant asked for forgiveness.”

“I hope he finds forgiveness from the Lord, and I hope he intends to change.”

“I'll hope with you. He's going to have a number of years to think about it.”

“What happened with the case where the motorboats collided and two people were killed?”

“The girlfriend of the second man who was on the boat that evening came forward and confessed she had picked up the two men near Nairne Point. She said that events of the accident were not disclosed to her and she was unknowingly an accessory. She turned in her boyfriend, Albert Scott, and he later confessed to being a passenger on the boat during the collision. Gary Donald confessed to being the operator of the boat after the other man signed a confession.”

“Dreadful situation . . .”

“I agree. Mose is still refusing the reward.”

Jenks shook her head and then stared into the dark waters of St. Helena Sound. She could not see the divers.

Looking back toward the coastline, Jenks asked, “Where did the name Woodward Point come from?”

“Dr. Henry Woodward.”

“Who was he?”

“He is considered the first English settler in this area. Woodward is well known for having established trade and relations with Indian tribes such as the Westo. In Dr. Walker's class on Low Country history, the textbook mentioned that Dr. Woodward was responsible for the introduction of rice from Madagascar to this area. However, Dr. Walker said that it's debatable who was actually responsible.”

The Pattersons had been underwater for about thirty minutes when Jenks saw the two divers emerge from the water; they were about forty feet away from the boat when they surfaced. Dave was holding a rusty hubcap. She watched them as they approached the boat. He lifted his diving mask to his forehead. “Miss Jenkins, this is the only treasure I found on the bottom.”

The couple made one more dive before calling it quits for the day. They found only marine debris on their search, and they returned to the downtown marina empty handed, except for the hubcap.

Jenks arranged another outing with the Pattersons, and then she and Seth walked to the marina parking lot.

“Jenks, how many more times are you going to do this?”

“A few more . . . I have to be satisfied that I tried.”

“When are you going out again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon at one.”

“I'll be here.”

“Seth, thank you.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Later that afternoon, Jenks met the children's group at the downtown library. She encouraged the children to each pick out a poem that they enjoyed, and then instructed them to recite it to the group. They read through poetry books and began to make their selections. Amanda smiled ever so slightly at Jenks. This was the first time Jenks had seen the child smile, and she felt warmed by her expression.

“Amanda, have you chosen a poem?”

“Yes, Miss Jenks.”

“Who is the author and what's the name of the poem?”

“It be called, ‘Where go de—I mean the—boats.' The author be Robert Louis Stevenson.”

“Amanda, would you like to read first?”

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