Catherine's Cross, page 30
Before the meeting concluded, Mr. Price said that he would remain off the property with Miss Ellington at a safe distance to observe and to help with surveillance. “Extra sets of eyes can only help,” he said.
Due to Price’s reputation with both the FBI and the Belize police there was little argument. Jenks stood and thanked the men for their efforts to bring Frank Hiller to justice. She looked in Seth’s direction after speaking, only to see him glaring at her with a dark scowl on his face. Thomas took a look at Seth, and then came to her patting her on the shoulder. Jenks looked up into his eyes. “Thomas—thank you for coming down here to help with the rendition process.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be glad to see this guy brought to justice.”
Mr. Price joined Jenks, Seth, and Thomas. He looked at Seth before saying, “I do not want you to worry. I am not only a private investigator, but I am still an employee of the Belize City Police Department, and I often work in security details as a bodyguard. I will look after Miss Ellington.” He nodded to the group and then said good night.
The two FBI agents were the next to leave the room. On the way back to the cabana, Jenks and Seth passed the two men as they sat on an open-air porch, smoking cigars. Their conversation was being conducted in Spanish, but when they noticed their presence they switched to English and said good night.
Seth followed her into the cabana. Jenks could see on his face a rare look of contained anger. “Did you ask Mr. Price to stay with you during the arrest? The truth, Jenks!”
“I’m always honest with you. Look, Seth—I need to do this for Gigi.”
“Anything can happen, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I think Mr. Price knows what he’s doing.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Seth . . . Please, no more discussion. I intend to see that bastard put under arrest.” She held up her hand to stop him from saying anything else.
During the night, a severe storm descended upon the area. The winds blew with such ferocity that Jenks feared that the roof might come off their cabana. She snuggled close to Seth, and she realized he was awake as well. He kissed her repeatedly on her cheeks and lips.
“Are you worried?” she whispered.
“I am about you.”
She didn’t respond, but put her arms around him and held him tightly. “I love you.”
“Miss Ellington, I love you too.”
Before dawn, the police officers who had staked out the property overnight phoned the FBI agents to confirm that Frank Hiller was at home and to say that the road leading to his home was blocked by trees downed in yesterday’s storm. The officers approaching the property would have to park a short distance away and walk in. The downed trees also meant that Frank Hiller had no effective means of escape—except on foot.
At first light, the group of law enforcement officers took their agreed-upon positions around the home. Jenks and Mr. Price were positioned just off the roadway to the property, in a location that made the viewing of the arrest possible.
The winds were still strong and Jenks pulled her hair back with a tie to keep it from whipping into her face. Mr. Price looked at her. “I was told this morning that the weather we experienced last night is coming from a tropical disturbance off the coast of Belize. We may be in for some more bad weather today . . . late in the year for it though.”
Jenks was so nervous that she had begun to twirl her hair with her fingers—a motion that was noticed by Mr. Price.
“Do not worry. We will soon have Mr. Hiller in custody.”
Jenks gave him a slight smile, and he returned it. He then handed Jenks a pair of field glasses before putting the telescopic lens up to his eye. Together, they watched.
Jenks’s breathing hitched as she watched the officers take their positions around the house. Seth and Thomas went to the front door. Jenks could not hear what they were saying, but without hesitation they entered through the screened doors at the front entrance. Just as they went inside, movement caught Jenks’s eye off to the right of the house. She quickly realized that a portion of a large tree had broken off during last night’s storm, and someone was moving within the large boughs that lay across the lawn. “Frank Hiller,” she hissed.
Pointing quickly to the area, Jenks declared, “He’s there . . . inside the boughs of a downed tree.”
The sound of chopping wood could now be heard above the whistling of the wind. Mr. Price laid his lens on its case and used his cell phone to alert the other officers. Jenks could barely breathe as she watched Seth and Thomas come back outside to the front of the house and then quickly race to the side with the downed tree limbs. She tried to lick her lips, but there was no moisture in her mouth.
The other officers appeared from other vantage points, and she could still see the torso of Frank Hiller. His lower body was obscured by the branches of the tree.
Within seconds, he was surrounded by the officers, and she watched as his hands went up into the air.
Then—almost as if some unknown force had intervened, another large bough broke off the partially downed tree and came careening to the ground. Jenks watched in horror as the limb descended upon the men. Frank Hiller was untouched and ran toward the jungle behind the house. For a moment, the story of Meta Andrews’s relative losing his son when a large limb broke from a tree he was trimming, striking the child dead, flashed through her mind. Mr. Price put down the telescopic lens and removed a large black handgun from a holster underneath his linen shirt.
“The man has incredible luck,” Mr. Price murmured. “Miss Ellington, stay here,” he said, looking her in the eye.
He moved quickly in the direction of the house and she made a decision. Right or wrong—she was following Price to the home. She prayed that none of the officers were injured from the falling bough. Dear God, let Seth be all right.
Her heart was beating fiercely when she reached the downed tree. The young officer, Lopez, who had accompanied Detective Alvarez, had been struck by a bough and was bleeding from a contusion to his head. Alvarez and Mr. Price were administering first aid. Jenks caught her breath, and Mr. Price looked up at her with a look of warning. “Miss Ellington, stay here. Do not go any further.”
“Mr. Price, I have to see about Seth.”
Jenks ran toward the back of the property. She could see on the damp lawn the trail of footfalls that led toward the jungle. As she neared the edge of the lawn, the path split in two. She could tell that both trails had been taken. They’ve split up. What trail to take?
Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot rang out. Then a noise that was surreal filled the air. It sounded like the beating of the wings of thousands of birds. She was frozen in place as the sky went black ahead of her.
The wave of darkness descended upon her, and she realized the origin of the beating of wings. Holy Lord Jesus, bats, thousands of them.
She dropped to her knees and covered her head with her arms as the creatures engulfed the air around her. Just how much time passed as she crouched on the ground, she could not be sure. The fluttering noise of their beating wings dissipated, and she cautiously lifted her head up. The sky was still obscured by the multitudes of bats disturbed from their rest by the gunshot.
Taking a deep breath, she continued her trek down the trail. At a bend in the pathway, there was a man lying face down. Jenks ran as quickly as she could to the individual and turned him over. “Thomas, are you all right?”
He only made a slight moan and did not wake when she shook him. Thomas had a serious welt on his forehead, and Jenks attempted to revive him, but to no avail. Seth, where are you?
Jenks felt like her heart might burst as she ran with all her might further into the jungle. It was obvious to her that the path had recently been used by others. Above her own frantic breathing, she heard the sounds of a struggle just ahead of her.
She entered what appeared to be a small clearing, and in front of her were Seth and Frank Hiller in hand-to-hand combat. Moving quickly, Jenks ran in their direction. On the ground in front of her was Seth’s handgun. She picked it up and pointed the gun toward Frank Hiller.
Terrified that she might accidentally shoot Seth, she stood by as the two men battled one another furiously. In a split second, Frank hit Seth hard across the face, and he fell to the ground.
She raised the gun and pointed it at Hiller. He took only one step toward her—his expression unreadable.
For just a moment thoughts of Gigi flashed through her mind. Don’t hesitate—he killed Gigi—he’ll kill you and Seth as well.
“Jenks—protect yourself! Shoot him!” Seth cried out as he raised himself from the ground. “Shoot!”
Without warning, the ground underneath Frank Hiller gave way, and he disappeared off the side of the plateau. Jenks looked around her and realized they were standing on a partially cleared terrace. They were on the site of a Maya ruin.
From the hollow into which he had descended, Hiller made a chilling cry of pain, guttural, almost inhuman. Jenks had never heard a sound so frightening in her life. Seth slowly got to his feet and carefully made his way near the edge of the terrace. He held his hand out, signaling for Jenks to stop. “Don’t come any further.”
A deep frown crossed his face. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see about you!” she cried.
At that moment, one of the FBI agents and Mr. Price emerged on the pathway. “Where’s Hiller?” Agent Simpson asked.
Seth pointed over the side of the embankment. “My partner’s helping Detective Campbell out of the jungle. Nasty blow to the head,” Simpson said.
Mr. Price inched closer toward the edge of the terrace, and Jenks watched as he took a deep breath and his eyes grew wide. He crossed himself as he had done when they saw the fer-de-lance on the logging trail.
Jenks noticed that none of the three men were making an effort to descend from the terrace for Hiller. She could hear struggled breathing and after several moments, he crawled back onto the terrace from the precipice into which he had fallen. Jenks covered her mouth in shock as she realized Hiller had several small snakes still on his body.
“Tommy goff,” Mr. Price murmured. “In this case, a mother and many small ones.”
Hiller’s facial expression showed deep agony, and he yanked the remaining snakes from his body and flung them back into the jungle. Looking completely spent, he dropped to his knees and then forward onto his elbows. After a moment, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky.
“The closest medical clinic is at Blue Creek Village, but it is some distance away. We must try to get him there,” Mr. Price said.
Seth and Officer Simpson lifted Frank Hiller from the ground. They put one of his arms around Seth’s shoulder and the other arm went around Simpson’s. They struggled with his weight and began the trek out of the jungle. Hiller’s feet were at times dragging the ground.
Even through both men were in exceptional physical condition, they had to stop twice to regain their breath and strength as they carried the full weight of the man. By the time they reached the edge of the jungle, the other FBI agent, Castillo, joined the two men in carrying Hiller.
When they reached the house, they placed him on a lawn chair that was on the rear patio. His face was contorted with pain, and he was having spasms throughout his body.
“Water,” he begged.
Castillo went inside the house and returned with a bottle of water, opened it, and handed it to him. Mr. Price was speaking to someone on the telephone. He turned and looked at the group. “I have called the medical clinic at Blue Creek Village. I spoke to the doctor’s wife. He left yesterday afternoon with his nurse to handle an emergency delivery for a woman in Rosita. She says that he has not returned. We must take him to Orange Walk.”
“We’ll use his Land Rover. We can probably get over the downed trees in it,” Seth commented.
“I’ll see if I can find the keys to it,” Castillo volunteered as he went toward the house.
Hiller could hardly manage to drink from the water bottle and Jenks helped him take sips. She looked into Frank Hiller’s eyes and realized he was staring at her. Their eyes locked.
He struggled to speak. “Gigi, I’m—” He didn’t finish his sentence as a surge of pain gripped him.
“Frank, why?” Jenks implored him.
He started to speak again, but a wave of agony washed over him, and he shook with a seizure.
The sound of an approaching vehicle was audible as Castillo drove the Land Rover onto the lawn, stopping near the patio.
Frank started to speak again. “Gigi—” Again, he was consumed by pain.
“Let’s get him into the truck,” Simpson said.
The men started to lift Hiller into the back of the Land Rover, but Mr. Price held his hand up in a fist, signaling for them to stop. Jenks looked down at her sister’s killer, and his eyes were fixed and unmoving, staring straight at her.
Mr. Price felt for a pulse on his neck and then closed Hiller’s eyes. He stood above Hiller and crossed himself again. “Too much venom,” he said dryly.
Jenks looked at Seth. He had red marks on his face that she knew would turn to bruises, and he was sweating heavily from the chase and then from carrying Hiller’s full weight through the jungle. Tears started to well in her eyes and fell down her cheeks.
Frank Hiller lay dead a few feet away from her; during all the times she envisioned him brought to justice, she had expected Hiller to spend his life in prison. Justice had been dealt, but she felt only remorse. She wished that she still had her precious sister.
Seth put his arm around her and led her away. He winced as he took a step, limping on the leg that had been broken.
“Are you all right?” Jenks asked him.
“Just sore, let’s go see about Thomas and Lopez.”
“He thought I was Gigi. He was trying to tell me something.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “He didn’t attempt to take the gun away from me.”
“I know.”
“Why do you think he didn’t?”
“That—we will never know.”
The deafening cry of howler monkeys filled the air as they made their way toward the others.
CHAPTER 19
Blackstock’s Mountain
“I’m afraid to come in there.”
“You afraid—no way!” Seth called out to her, his voice echoing from within the cave. “Just hold on to the rope and crawl in. You have nothing to fear.”
Jenks shimmied across the ground. She felt claustrophobic as her head bumped the top of the tunnel. She took a deep breath and cautiously crept the remaining feet to the entrance of the cave. The lanterns that Seth had lit illuminated the grotto, and when she emerged, she gasped at the wonder of her surroundings.
The cave was at least twenty feet high and a small stream ran through the rear portion. The stream gurgled and the light of the lanterns cast shimmering reflections of the water on the walls of the cave.
“Wow, this is amazing.” Her voice echoed.
“Yes, ma’am, it is that.”
Seth took her by the hand and led her close to one wall. “Take a look at this drawing,” he said, holding a lantern close by.
“Oh, my goodness—it’s a buck smoking a pipe. It actually looks like that deer is smiling.”
“Could be.” Seth chuckled.
“And to think, you and Steel could be the only ones to have found these drawings since they were created. Thank you for taking me here.”
“My pleasure.”
They spent another thirty minutes studying the rest of the artwork before exiting the cave. When they came out into the fresh air, the glare from the sun on a landscape of snow blinded them, and they put on their sunglasses.
It was early January, and Seth had brought Jenks to Asbury to show her where he had grown up. After they arrived, five inches of snow had fallen in the hills of north Georgia. They played in the falling snow Saturday afternoon into the evening and walked around the small community—Seth recounting stories of adventures he had shared with Steel growing up.
Despite the snowfall, they rose just after sunrise and left the bed and breakfast, Asbury House, to drive up into the hills near Blackstock’s Mountain. The four-wheel drive on Jenks’s Jeep worked effectively.
Putting their gear back into her vehicle, Seth told her, “I want to show you something.”
He took her hand and led her up a hill to a plateau. In front of her lay a cemetery; snow covered the graves and created drifts on top of the markers.
There was not a single noise except their breathing.
“It’s so quiet,” Jenks whispered.
They stood in place and observed the serene surroundings. The hills and the mountain were covered with snow. Suddenly, the lone cry of a hawk sounded nearby, and the large bird flew above them, looking for prey.
“Come this way.”
He led her to a grave marker that was covered with snow, and a small American flag was displayed near the stone. He dusted it off with his gloved hand.
Steel Mason was the name on the marker.
Jenks huddled close to him as they stood together quietly.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed by, but finally she broke the silence. “What a peaceful place to be at rest,” she said as she looked around her surroundings. “The flag looks brand new.”
Seth looked as if he were returning from somewhere far away and then turned to gaze at her. “I think it is,” he said as he examined it closely. “God, I miss him.”
“I understand.”
He looked down into her eyes and then hugged her.
