Kee Patterbee - Hannah Starvling 02 - The Gourmet Who Kept Diamonds in the Kitchen (8 page)

Hannah rubbed the bridge of her nose and let go of a deep breath. She determined that it would behoove her to keep an eye on Ducky. To date, the only thing that brought him to her attention was a knack for being where he
was needed. That, and being present at situations she was looking into. She wondered if she might be ‘jumping the gun’ as Papa Jay would say. It was not beyond her to do so, as her friend Cate often noted. “When all the shadows move to the music, you see the one standing still. Then you ask why,” the beautiful, black haired, honey brown skinned librarian once told her. “Then you give a scenario where it’s planning on putting an end to the others, just to see if it plays out. You evaluate, analyze, and give it reason before asking it why?”

Cate
, Hannah thought,
I need to call you
. She pulled out her cell, but glancing down, saw that the battery was low.
Crud
. Digging through her luggage, she retrieved her charger and plugged it in. She then checked the time to find she needed to ready herself for work.

Chapter 7

Though having only gotten a few hours’ sleep, she found herself more awake than usual. The thought of Hym being next door invigorated her and just knowing he was there for her made her face light up.

After a brisk shower, she dried her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. She put on a black
pantsuit with a black jacket. Underneath, she wore a black blouse with a priest collar neckline. She slipped on black pumps and picked up her trademark black Victorian top hat to finish everything off. Before putting it on, she studied it for a moment. She missed having the goggles that once adorned the brim. But once destroyed in a foot chase several months back, she had not found the time to replace them. Now, the new look had grown on her. Hannah checked in on Hym once more. She woke him long enough to get a kiss and tell him to call her if he needed anything. Struggling, he said, “More sleep.” After another light kiss, he leaned back on his pillow and once again fell into a sound sleep. Hannah ran her fingers through his dark hair and struggled with words that played through her mind. She left with yet another smile on her face.

On her way down to the lobby
, she made a call to the hospital. Reaching the lobby, she headed toward the hotel’s event area. Hannah paused long enough to make another call to Gran and Papa Jay and give them her itinerary for the day.  Answering, Papa Jay put the phone on speaker.

“
How did y’all sleep?” Hannah asked.

“
Not too bad. Gran sweet-talked the nurses into cots for Janine and Wexler. We cozied up on that big lounger thing in the waiting room. Just us in there for the night.”

“
How’d you and Hym sleep?” Gran asked from the background.

Hannah could almost see the
mocking grin on Gran’s face. She rolled her eyes.

“
Fine, Gran, and in our own beds in our own rooms.” She wasn’t sure, but Hannah believed she heard Gran comment, “What a shame.” What she definitely heard was Papa Jay make a ‘humph’ sound before asking, “What do you have going on today, Sweetness?”

“
Judging,” she informed her grandparents, “Pasta dishes. Original and traditional creations.”

“
How do you stay so thin?” Gran asked.

“
My mind is always running,” she quipped. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Well, Johnny’s up. He picked up breakfast for everyone.
We’re headed back now to get some more sleep and shower. If you don’t mind, we figured we would check you out in action. Then maybe we would take a look around the town a bit before heading back to the hospital. I take it with all the food you are getting, lunch is out?”

“
I do a lot of tasting and a lot of spitting.”

Papa Jay frowned.
“Hmm. Because it’s so bad?”

Hannah laughed.
“No, because if I ate every bite I’d be sick after thirty minutes.”

“
Well, I suppose we’ll check you out, dear,” Gran affirmed.

“
Come on then. You can find me out on the floor before judging. Call if you need me.”

Hannah tried to refocus her mind on the
task at hand. The festival sought her out and was generous in their compensation. As a culinary consultant, she maintained a stellar reputation. She travelled the world advising on menus, overseeing culinary competitions, and judging them. In her work as such, she gained the reputation of being the most honest, brutal, yet respectful of judges. Though pasta was a passion, pastries were her field of specialty. People saw her as the quirky American with exquisite taste and a peculiar sense of fashion. But more so, she held a reputation within culinary circles for being inquisitive. Wherever Hannah Starvling went, trouble was soon to follow. Often she contemplated why anyone would ever hire her to do her job. She wondered if sometimes, it was more for her skills outside the kitchen than those she maintained within. 

Indeed, the onetime agent acquired an odd skill set. This began with her upbringing by genius parents and down to earth grandparents. She attended college on a scholarship where she studied criminology and psychology. After graduating, she pulled a brief stint in the FBI, which ended with
an injury. She went on to attend one of the top culinary schools in France, L’Académie Gastronomique de Paris. This led to an internship under one of the world’s foremost pastry chefs, Tasha O’Brien. It was at this point that her reputation as a detective and culinary expert began. During her training, her pastry gourmet/mentor met her demise. Peculiar circumstances led to Hannah investigating and she cracked the case. Thereafter, her career took on a life of its own.

Everywhere she went,
the case came up. At the Pasto di Elmo in Italy, she cleared the head chef from a charge of attempted poisoning. As a guest chef at the Hotel Rojo in Mexico City, she disclosed an assassination attempt on the Ambassador of Côte d’Ivoire. Most recently, she uncovered the true killer of one of America’s top chefs, Julia Karas. Among culinary circles, Hannah Starvling was sought after, and an unofficial security benefit. The go-to person in the event of the unforeseen. The Culinary Detective.

The thought of the name given her in Louie's article for Food Critic Magazine on the top culinary consultants, made her groan.
While she adored her journalist friend, that particular name made her wince.
Unlike Gran, who reveled when people called her the Gumshoe Gal, Hannah shied away from her moniker. To her, detective work was something she tried to keep at bay, especially when she was on the job. However, her innate curiosity and superb instincts coupled with her FBI training made it impossible for her to do so. More and more individuals referenced it since Louie wrote his article.
Like it or not
, she huffed to herself,
it’s yours to live with.

Hannah made her way until she came
to the eighth room on the left. She was about to step in when
the sound of something thumping in rapid succession caught her attention. Also heard were gasps and the shuffling of people moving away from something. She turned in the direction of the sound, staring down the hall through a parting crowd of individuals. A large, tan form ran straight toward her. Hannah stood her ground, but braced herself. The suddenness of everything made it hard to focus. Her eyes widened when a hound came into sight, tongue wagging about, and a loose leash flopping around. The beast leapt straight for her as she reinforced her position. Upon impact, she tumbled to the ground, the creature on top of her. She cried out, “Critic!” Slobbery licks and love followed. The dog hopped about, tail wagging at high speed. He made a noise that sounded as if he were saying ‘love you’. As the initial shock of the event wore off, the crowd began snapping pictures of the happy reunion.

Seconds later,
a man came running after. “There you are. Heel. Heel.” With reluctance, the canine followed orders, taking a sitting position in front of Hannah. She repositioned herself in front of the hound and scratched behind his ears. The speed of his wagging tail told her the attention was much appreciated.

“
Good boy. Good boy.” She stood and smiled. “
Louie!” she exclaimed as both moved in for the greeting.

After releasing him, Hannah stepped back. She scanned over her friend,
drawing up her memory of him. His hair still showed as graying and faded reddish, and his brown eyes and big smile were the definition to her of the word jolly. In his late forties, Louie Woolridge’s demeanor left everyone with the impression that he was a friend of sorts. Hannah tugged at his oversized t-shirt with the Birmingham Tornadoes logo on the front. She glanced down at his usual faded jeans, and worn out running shoes. She smiled, and thought to herself,
good to know some things don’t change
. Remembering Janine’s father, she added, “Good to see you. Boy, do I have someone you have to meet soon.” She tapped on his chest in an excited voice. “What are you two doing here?”

“We got in last night. Last minute kind of thing. And
…” Louie thumbed toward the hound, whose tail kept up its steady pace. “Believe it or not, you are looking at the new, official spokes-dog slash mascot for Food Critic. So many people loved the picture and write up of you and him in my article that they inundated the editor with fan mail. So much so, they had to work overtime just to sort it.” He motioned toward the event rooms. “He’s not allowed in where they prepare the food, but we have a booth down the way. He’s pawing autographs for publicity pictures and what not. Food Critic is eating it up and so is the public. So, from now on, I get to take him along wherever I go. It’s kind of like we're married in a way. Wither thou goest, I will go.” Louie patted the dog’s head. “Or something like that. I left him with a friend while I went with Vera for two weeks back to France. He was miserable and I was miserable. We were just meant to be together, I suppose.”

“
Louis,” someone called out in an accented voice that Hannah knew immediately as a native speaker. She turned to see a woman shuffling forward.
5’5”-ish. Forties. Shapely. Curly blonde hair. Wire frame glasses. Pretty.

When she reached Louie, Hannah, and Critic, she shook her finger at the canine.
“Je suis désolé ainsi. Il a tenu à l’écart de moi. Il est un si mauvais garçon. Pardonnez-moi s’il vous plaît,” she cried out. She took Hannah’s hand and said in her thick accent, “I am sorry. I have been looking for him all about. He got away from me. He is such a bad doggie. Forgive me, please.”

“
It’s all right,” Hannah assured her, “he and I are old friends.”

“
Oh?” The woman turned to Louie with a puzzled look.

Louie put his arm around
the woman and made introductions. “This is Hannah Starvling. The one I’ve told you about.”

The woman
’s eyes widened and she shook Hannah’s hand. “Oh, the pleasure, it is all mine. You have helped my niece and given me this nice man. I am beyond words.”

Hannah smiled
and also turned to Louie for an explanation. “Hannah Starvling. Marquette Roux. This is Vera’s aunt.”

Hannah
’s eyes lit up with recognition. “I am pleased to meet you as well. Vera spoke about you and Louie.”

“
Marquette and I are…”

Marquette
interrupted with a broad, appreciative smile. “Wait. Wait. How do you say it here… ah, peas in a pond.”

“
Peas in a pod,” Louie corrected.

Marquette
frowned and cocked her head. “Oh. I see. Now that makes more sense,” she said smiling.

All three laughed.

“Did Vera come?” Hannah asked.

“
She did,” Louie answered. He looked at Marquette and asked if she would mind taking Critic back to the booth. She agreed and said goodbye to Hannah.

“
We must all dine together,” she insisted before picking up Critic’s leash.

“
I’d like that.”

“
Tonight then?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

“
Can I bring guests? Hym and my grandparents are here as well.”

“
Of course,” Louie replied. He tapped the side of his thigh as Critic stood. “Vera’s in the back,” he said. “She’ll love it.” He moved in and gave Marquette a quick kiss. “I’ll be along shortly,” he said. “Follow her, boy.” Critic wagged his tail and moved beside Marquette as they headed down the hallway.

Hannah stopped to
register with the reception table and she was given a name badge by the young man waiting there. Rather than drape hers around her neck as others, she removed the card with her name from the cord. She then tucked it into the band that ran the circumference of her hat, much in the manner of a press pass from the 1940s. Louie then led her way over to a back room connected to the area. When they entered the room, she saw the familiar face of a friend.

“
Vera!”

Vera
Bessinger turned to see Hannah with a broad grin. She threw her arms out in a welcoming gesture. Hannah moved over and the two women hugged. Pulling herself back to get a solid view, Hannah reevaluated her friend. Vera remained beautiful, though she appeared different somehow to the sleuth.
Longer hair, still brown with reddish highlights. A little less conservative attire. Happier
, Hannah clicked off, adding to what she already knew about the woman. Vera was twenty-three, 5’6” with violet eyes that seemed to glow. She took over as producer of the culinary television show, Julia’s Kitchen by the Water, after the chef’s demise. Vera and Hannah’s first meeting involved the death of Vera’s mother, Julia Karas. Through her efforts, Hannah cleared the young woman of a murder accusation. Later, she solved Vera’s mother’s case, along the way making friends with her. In any case, Hannah found herself happy once again to see her friend.

“
So tell me. How did all this come about?”

“
Well, it was a last minute thing. Do you know Marlon Humphries?”

Hannah nodded.
“I’ve met him a couple of times at events and such. Late seventies, early eighties?”

Vera affirmed. “That’s him. The schedule called for him as your third.
Unfortunately, he passed away a couple of nights ago. They haven’t announced it yet, but they were looking for a replacement. They contacted Jazlyn, but she’s wrapped up in the show, but Asa decided it would be good publicity, and suggested I go. So, we’ll be judging together.” A concerned look ran across the young chef’s face. “That is okay, isn’t it?”