Catastrophe Cliff

by J A Whiting

  Catastrophe Cliff

  A Seeing Colors Mystery Book 3

  J. A. Whiting

  Copyright 2019 J.A. Whiting

  Cover copyright 2019 Signifer Book Design

  Formatting by Signifer Book Design

  Proofreading by Donna Rich: donnarich@me.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from J. A. Whiting.

  To hear about new books and book sales, please sign up for my mailing list at: www.jawhiting.com

  Created with Vellum

  For my family with love

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Thank you for reading!

  Also by J. A. Whiting

  About the Author

  1

  Bluewater Cove, a seaside town on the North Shore of Massachusetts, was a popular tourist destination with quaint shops and restaurants, a picturesque harbor, beautiful white sand beaches, and a state park with miles and miles of hiking and biking trails.

  When their mother passed away, twenty-seven-year old Ellen “Nell” Finley and her sister, Violet, twenty-eight, moved into the home their parents had owned for decades and where they’d enjoyed long summers together in the pretty oceanside town.

  The sun was bright and the early morning air promised another hot August day. Nell and Violet decided to take their dogs, Iris and Oscar, out for a long walk and a swim at a kettle pond before it became too warm for a hike in the state park.

  “I don’t like getting up so early,” Violet said, “but I like getting out with Iris and Oscar for our walk.”

  “It would be too hot to walk the trails later,” Nell agreed. “The dogs love the exercise and the four of us love swimming in the lake before our workday starts.”

  Iris, a light brown, Labradoodle mix, and Oscar, a brown, medium-sized Lab and beagle mix, trotted ahead sniffing along the path and at the base of some of the trees, and they disappeared into the brush at the side of the trail for several minutes at a time.

  Nearly a month ago, Nell had a frightening experience in the state park while trying to help a man who was in the federal witness protection program and it had taken her several weeks to shake off the anxiety produced by the event and feel comfortable being in the woods again.

  Nell had always loved the peace and quiet of the forest, the shade under the tree canopy, the dappled sunlight, the way the colors of nature harmonized so perfectly together into such a beautiful and tranquil setting.

  “What are you planning to work on today?” Violet asked her sister as they walked along the trail.

  “I’d like to finish the commission of the lighthouse painting and I was going to start a woodland series of small paintings to put up for sale in the shop.”

  Nell and Violet ran a store out of the front rooms of their house selling Nell’s artwork and Violet’s pottery and handcrafted jewelry designs along with other gift items from other Bluewater artists. Nell also did some freelance graphic design work for various clients.

  “I need to finish some jewelry for my clients in Boston,” Violet said. “I’m behind schedule and need to catch up.”

  The sisters and the dogs followed the paths heading for the two-hundred-acre kettle pond and its powdery white sand beach. Some trails in the park led down to the rocky cliffs near the ocean and others wound their way to the soaring granite cliffs estimated to be over four million years old rising tall over the landscape. Sections of granite had been quarried years ago and the quarry was now filled with water where some adventurous souls went to swim. The top of the cliffs provided spectacular views of the North Shore beaches, and on clear days, of the Isles of Shoals off the coast of New Hampshire to Mount Agamenticus located over eighty miles away in Maine.

  Oscar stopped on the trail, looked back at the sisters, and whined.

  “What’s wrong, boy?” Violet asked. “We’ll be at the pond soon and you can jump in and swim.”

  Nell’s skin pricked with a sense of tension and unease. “There’s some color on Oscar.”

  Violet’s green eyes stared at Nell with apprehension. “What colors? Is something wrong?”

  “Some orange. Some red.” Nell carried a genetic difference that impacted her vision. She had a fourth type of cone in her eyes, and those extra cones allowed her to see many, many more colors than the ordinary person could. People who carry the genetic difference are called tetrachromats.

  All of her life, Nell used multi-colors to create her artwork. The sand of a beach would consist of blues, reds, and yellows. The sky wasn’t just blue, but was a mixture of gold, silver, pinks, lavenders, and greens. Nell drew and painted the way she did because she was capable of seeing millions more colors than the average person was able to perceive.

  She could also sometimes see people’s emotions and intentions as colors and her ophthalmologist held the theory that Nell could see feelings such as danger, love, fear, and rage because those things were given off as energy and her special visual skills allowed her to see the energy as color.

  “Oh, no.” Violet stopped walking and looked around at the woods with apprehension. “Orange and red? Those colors stand for anger and a warning right?”

  “I don’t know for sure. They might represent something different this time.” A chill washed over Nell’s bare arms as Oscar began to bark.

  The dog looked at the sisters and then turned his attention to a trail leading away from the one they were on. He barked again. Iris headed down the trail that branched off the main path and Oscar trotted after her.

  “What should we do?” Violet questioned. “Should we go back?”

  “The dogs want us to follow them.” Nell took slow steps towards the trail that led to the quarry cliffs. “If there was danger lurking, Iris and Oscar would go in the other direction. They wouldn’t lead us towards trouble.”

  “Are you sure?” Violet’s voice shook.

  The dogs were moving so quickly down the trail that Nell and Violet had to jog to keep up.

  “I think we should go back,” Violet whined. “Do you see any more colors?”

  “The same as before.” Nell did see another color, but she kept it to herself so as not to frighten her sister. The path ahead shimmered with black particles, and black represented evil, mystery, and … death.

  The trail now wound its way below the granite cliffs that towered above them. They could hear the dogs barking up ahead.

  “Stop for a minute,” Violet told her sister. “Let’s approach slowly. Do you hear anything? Footsteps? Movement in the trees? Anything that might signal danger?”

  “The dogs stopped barking,” Nell noted. “I hear the breeze in the leaves, but nothing else.”

  “Okay. Let’s walk. But go slowly,” Violet repeated.

  As they got
closer to where Iris and Oscar were standing, Nell noticed something on the ground. “Oh.” She jogged forward and stopped short.

  Violet let out a gasp when she came up beside her sister.

  At the base of the cliff, a young woman lay on her side in the tall grass with her body facing the cliff. Her leg stuck out at an odd angle. Blood covered the side of her head and gashes showed on her arms and legs. Her straight, brown hair was held back in a ponytail with the long strands splayed over her shoulder.

  “She must have fallen from the cliff.” Violet covered her mouth with her hand and looked away. She removed her beach towel from her backpack and passed it to Nell so she could press it against the worst of the lacerations. “How long has she been here?”

  Nell knelt beside the woman, checked for a pulse, and balled up the towel to stop the flow of blood from the young woman’s thigh. “She’s alive. She has a faint pulse. Does your phone have reception?”

  Violet had already pulled her phone from her backpack and pressed the numbers to place the emergency call.

  Oscar ran back and forth at the base of the cliff sniffing at the soil, rocks, and grass. He glanced at Nell and barked causing her to stand and glance around.

  “Do you think she was hiking with someone?” Nell asked. “Do you think they both fell?”

  A look of horror washed over Violet’s face as her eyes darted over the landscape searching for another person.

  Nell walked along the base of the granite cliffs checking for another body, but she didn’t locate anyone else. As she watched, the dogs moved off down an overgrown path away from the fall victim.

  “I’m going to walk this way to reach the fire road.” Nell gestured to the path. “The emergency personnel will come in that way. I’ll lead the EMTs back here. Keep checking the woman’s pulse. If you can’t feel one, start chest compressions and text me.”

  “Don’t go any further than the fire road,” Violet warned as she knelt close to the hiker to check again for her pulse and to keep pressure on the wound.

  Nell looked up to the top of the cliffs as she walked by on the way to the dirt road that wound its way through the forest and around the granite bluffs. She could see different colors swirling around like ribbons on the air and she tried to decipher their meaning.

  Black, red, a greenish-yellow.

  Anger? Evil? Mystery? Deceit?

  Do the colors mean something else? Is there a different meaning when the three shades show up together?

  Nell’s ability to see emotions as colors started right after she lived through a tornado while at her family home in central Massachusetts a few months after her mother passed away. She’d gone there to begin the process of clearing out the home and while taking a break for lunch, the sky turned a pea-green color, the air went still, and then she heard it. The wind roared like a freight train bearing down on her. The windows shattered and sprayed glass shards everywhere. Racing down the stairs to the basement, she crouched on the cement floor as the house lifted off its foundation and tore away in the storm’s fury. Lashed by driving rain, her body shook from the terrible, terrible blasting roar.

  Now whenever the wind kicked up or a storm blew in, Nell’s post-tornado terror made her run to the cellar with the dogs and sit, rocking back and forth in a chair with her eyes closed until it was over.

  Was the woman hiking alone? If not, where were her companions?

  Reaching the fire road, Nell scanned the area for the dogs, but couldn’t see them so she called their names. She listened for the sound of the emergency vehicles.

  The beautiful day had turned into one of anxiety and dismay.

  Where’s the ambulance? Why don’t they hurry?

  Nell’s heart pounded as tiny beads of perspiration rolled down her back. Her stomach clenched and made her feel ill.

  Her mind raced. How did the woman fall? Was she taking photographs and slipped off the edge? Did a section of the rocks give way sending her crashing to the bottom?

  Nell held her breath.

  Was that the sound of an engine in the distance?

  She could hear the buzz of tires on the gravel road.

  Thank heavens.

  Nell waved at the police SUV. Behind the police vehicle, the ambulance bounced over the uneven road.

  With a sense of growing unease, Nell glanced and wondered, Where are the dogs?

  2

  While the emergency medical personnel tended to the fall victim, Nell and Violet hiked to the top of the cliff with their friend, Peter Bigelow, who had recently been promoted to detective with the Bluewater Police Department. Thirty-years-old, Peter was tall and slim with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He and two other Bluewater police officers were walking around the top of the cliff searching for clues relating to the cause of the fall.

  Neither of the sisters were fond of heights and they were careful not to get too close to the edge.

  “She must have been hiking the trails,” Peter said. “There are a lot of loose stones and gravel at the edge of the cliffs. She might have slipped, lost her balance, and went over.” The detective shook his head. “It’s certainly not the first time it’s happened. My father calls this Catastrophe Cliff. He’s known a few people who’ve lost their lives hiking here over the years.”

  Another officer reached the top and, puffing, brought over the victim’s wallet and phone. “They’re carrying her to the ambulance now.”

  Pulling on surgical-type gloves, Peter flipped to the driver’s license inside the small leather wallet. “Her name is Jennifer Harding. She’s twenty-eight, lives in Bluewater, in the neighborhood near the town line.” Looking through the wallet, Peter found a ten-dollar bill and two credit cards in Jennifer’s name, along with an ID associated with the nearby university. “Looks like she works at the university medical center.”

  The ID photo showed a pretty, athletic young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes smiling at the camera, and the contrast of the photograph with the woman they’d found at the bottom of the cliff made Nell’s heart ache. A sunny August morning, a hike in the forest, an unexpected disaster.

  Peter checked the woman’s phone and discovered it didn’t require a security code to gain access. There were four recent texts all from the same number with the name, Kyle.

  Where are you?

  Call me, Jen.

  Are you back at the car?

  I’m going back to the car.

  The phone vibrated in Peter’s hand with an incoming call, and he looked at Nell and Violet before stepping aside to answer it.

  The sisters knew the person calling Jennifer Harding was about to receive a shock and they felt awful for the person.

  “What an exchange this is going to be,” Violet shook her head sadly. “Can you imagine calling your friend or relative and having a police officer answer? I’d probably pass out. You know it’s going to be terrible news.”

  “I hope she makes it.” Nell nervously peered down to the trails below and took an involuntary step back from the cliff.

  Peter walked over to them. “It was Jennifer Harding’s fiancé. They were hiking together and got separated. He kept texting, but she didn’t answer. He went back to the parking lot. He’s on his way to the hospital. I’m going to meet him there.” The detective knew about Nell’s skills and the police had called her in to assist them on two previous cases. He made eye contact with her. “Do you see anything?”

  Nell nodded and explained the colors she’d seen. “I’m not sure what they mean. Interpreting them together could alter what they signify. I’m still learning how the colors work.”

  “Will you come to the hospital with me?” Peter asked.

  “Okay.” Nell’s voice was tentative. “But we have to find the dogs first. We haven’t seen them since we found the woman.”

  As soon as the words were out of Nell’s mouth, Iris and Oscar bounded out of the woods and ran to the sisters.

  “Where have you two been?” Violet questioned.<
br />
  Oscar barked like he wanted Nell and Violet to join him on the trail.

  “Not now, boy.” Nell patted both dogs. “We’ll walk another day.”

  “Let’s go down to the SUV,” Peter said. “Where did you park? I’ll drive you to your car so you can bring the dogs home. Then we’ll head to the hospital.”

  When Peter, Nell, and Violet arrived at the medical facility, they were led to a small conference room off a hallway on the fourth floor to meet Jennifer Harding’s fiancé, Kyle McLeod. In his late-twenties, the man had dark blond hair, blue eyes, and an athletic and outdoorsy appearance. He wore hiking shorts, a plaid long-sleeved shirt, and hiking boots. He had a bit of beard stubble on his cheeks and chin.

  Kyle introduced himself to the detective and the Finley sisters and they all sat down in the creaky, old metal chairs.

  “How is Jennifer doing?” Peter asked.

  Kyle bit his lip and rubbed his hand over his face. “Jen’s hanging in. She has broken ribs, a broken leg, a broken collar bone, lacerations, and internal bleeding. She’s still unconscious. There’s a possibility of a head injury. I only saw her for a minute. I’m waiting to hear from the doctor.”

  “The two of you went hiking this morning?” Peter asked the obvious in order to get Kyle talking.

  Kyle said, “We were up early. We wanted to hike before it got too hot. Two friends rode over to the park with us. They wanted to run the trails. Jen and I had been hiking for about two hours. We didn’t see our friends because they went running as soon as we parked the car. I wanted to go down the hilly trail that leads to the rocky beach at the duck pond, but Jen wanted to hike to the top of the cliffs so we split up and planned to meet up at the kettle pond in forty-five minutes. I got to the pond, but Jen wasn’t there. I waited for a while and then I texted her, but she didn’t answer. I tried again a while later. I figured we didn’t communicate well enough and maybe she’d gone back to the car.” The young man’s face took on a worried expression.