Kee Patterbee - Hannah Starvling 03 - The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Fore (2 page)

“I restored this myself, you know,” Hym answered. “She might not respond well to having another woman in my life.
””

Always a female
, Hannah considered. “I didn’t know we were going to have one of those kinds of relationships. Remember, one week and what’s yours is mine.”

“Vice versus. Does that mean I get to play with your things?”

Hannah winked at Hym. “All you want, my love. All you want. You’ll look cute in my top hat.” She studied her fiancé as she drew her lips in. ““Come to think of it, you might look right sexy in my teddy too.”

Both laughed as they passed a sign reading, ‘Happiness 12 miles.’

“Happiness,” mused Hannah in her smooth, silky voice. “Sounds like a rather pleasant place for a senior retirement center.””

“Not a center. A whole community,” Hym insisted. “Housing. Golf course. They even have their own, small medical complex. Happiness has no residents under 55. Even the staff lives off site.”

“Off site where?” Hannah asked, rummaging through the papers in the box for another petite four.

“Tantalus for the most part. From this side, you have to go through a pass. The only other way out is over the river across a wooden bridge on the other side.”

The former FBI turned culinary chef frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A senior retirement community next to a town named for the Greek underworld. Someone didn’t think that through.”

Hym smirked. “Only you would make that connection.”

Hannah held up the empty box for Hym to see. “These are okay, but not perfect. I think we can do better.”

“My, my, aren’t we picky?”

“A girl doesn’t get married every day, you know. I want it to be perfect.”

The two drove along a few moments more as Hannah considered the trip from Twilight to Happiness. It held dual purpose. First, they were there to meet with the man who would perform their wedding ceremony, Reverend Jonathan Whipson. Second, was to answer a request he made to meet them beforehand. During the phone conversation to arrange the meeting, he spoke with Hannah. “I have something I need to discuss with you, dear. It is of great importance to me,” Whipson had commented. However, he refused to discuss the matter over the phone. Hannah and Hym’s conversation turned to this particular request.

“He asked to speak to me in person but he wouldn’t say why.”

Hym stared ahead as a look of consideration came to his face. “Pre-marital stuff, I’d imagine. He’s a traditional kind of
Presbyterian
clergyman.”

Hannah again considered Hym’s facial expressions. She could tell he admired the man he referred to as the Reverend. From what she gleaned from conversations with Hym, the clergyman had a profound impact on her fiancé’s life. When Hym asked that he be the one to officiate their wedding, there was no way she would, or even could, refuse. Now, she was on her way to meet him finally.

Reaching the entrance of the gated community, Hym pulled into the guard station. Hannah watched as a man that she assessed to be in his early sixties, fit, and well groomed, asked to see IDs. After producing them, he smiled at the two and asked them to wait for a second. He stepped back into his station.

“Tight security,” Hannah noted.

“Yup, there’s a lot of money floating through here as you can imagine. Privacy is at a premium.”

“How does a reverend retire here? I can’t imagine a churchman’s salary being that much.”

“I’ve never given it much thought.” Hym glanced out into the well-maintained area. Manorial homes lined the streets. From where they waited, they could see a centralized park area with old grove trees. People moved about or gathered in groups, chatting. Two seniors on Segways crossed in front of the car. An older woman turned to look at Hannah and Hym, giving a smile and short wave before proceeding on. Hannah returned the same.

“Jayland and Sindee should move here,” Hym commented.

Hannah shook her head. “Nah, nothing happening here but golf, shuffle board, and dancing.” She motioned to a sign advertising ‘Ballroom Night at The Center.’’ “No mysteries, no Gran. No Gran, no Papa Jay.”

The guard returned with their IDs and gave directions to the medical complex. “You’re expected,” he said. ““Reverend Whipson will meet you at reception.”

After thanking the man, Hym followed the given directions. Along the way, the two passed variations of the housing. They moved beyond the entrance to the golf course, and drove through a small town-like circle with shops. “They’re all run by people living here,”” he commented. He pointed to one of the stores. “That one there. Best fudge ever. All kinds. Other things too. We might want to give their petit fours a try.”

Hannah acknowledged as she took everything in, amazed. “It’s so self-contained. Maybe Gran and Papa Jay
would
like it here.””

At the edge of the community, past all the houses, golf course, and various other buildings, lay the medical complex. It was a huge, gray stone, ivy covered building. A smaller building bordered it on the south. Several smaller buildings clustered around the parking lot.

“Beautiful,” Hannah commented. She exited the vehicle, pulling on a black leather coat and similar colored top hat. She shivered. “Chilly.””

“You’re the one who didn’t want to wait till June.”

Hannah gave Hym a one eyed squint with a twisted mouth kind of look. “You saying you don’t want to marry me now, mister?”

Hym tipped the black drover’s hat he pulled on. “A thousand pardons, ma’am, but I’d be just darn pleased if you’d still consider being my lady.”

Both chuckled and headed toward the entrance, hand in hand. Hannah made sure to walk slower to accommodate Hym’s halted pace with a leg brace and cane.

Once inside, they made their way toward reception. When she reached the desk, Hannah gave a smile and glanced down at the woman’s nametag.
Pepper
. She then profiled the woman in her usual manner.
80s. Grey hair. Heavy set. Thick glasses. Polka dot dress. Worn
. Looking down at the half-eaten box of sweets beside the woman, she added,
Sweet tooth
. Hannah made a request to see the reverend. She watched as the receptionist pulled an unsteady, aged finger down a list of names.

“Oh yes, such a nice man.” Pepper picked up the phone and dialed. After hanging up, she informed Hym and Hannah that he would join them in a short while. They walked to the waiting area and took seats.

“What does he do here?” Hannah inquired.

“The usual ministerial duties. Listen. Offer advice. Comfort. End of life counseling in particular. He was there for us after Dad died. When Mom was struggling, he was there too.”

Hannah listened to Hym’s words, taking them in.
Pain and admiration
. She squeezed his hand and he turned to look at her. “You considered following him, didn’’t you?”

A slight, appreciative smile came to Hym’s face as he nodded. “At one time. Up until mom. After that… I don’’t know. Me and the man, we had issues.”

The man
. The words struck Hannah.
Not Whipson
.

“Hym,” a voice called. Both Hym and Hannah turned from where they sat to see a man moving in their direction. With him was a young woman who steadied his arm. As they moved in closer, Hannah focused on the man’’s black clothing and clerical collar. It gave him away as Reverend Whipson.
5’9” to 5’’10”. 80s. Balding with grey patches of hair. Pale. Thin. Slight haunch. Thick, hard-rimmed glasses. Pencil thin mustache. Slight yellowish tint to eyes and skin.
The last notation struck her in particular.
Ill.
She gave a smile as she shook his hand.
Weak
, she further noted. “Thank you for doing this, Reverend,” she said.

“It’s my honor, and call me Jonathan,” Whipson said. He smiled before turning his head to cough a few times. The woman with him reinforced her stance and steadied him. He signed that he was okay before introducing her to Hannah.

“This is my granddaughter, Dr. Susan York.”

“Just Susan,” she said, offering her hand to the sleuth.

Taking it as offered, Hannah shook.
5’3”. Mid-thirties. Short, bobbed, brown hair. Deep green eyes. Physician’s coat.
Studying the woman’s eyes, Hannah found that the left one had a section discolored from the rest of the eye.

Noticing the sleuth’s curiosity, the woman smiled. “It’s called
sectoral heterochromia,”” she explained. “It’s a mutation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was rude, but it’s just so pretty.”

Susan smiled. “Thank you. Most people think I’m going blind.” She looked up at Hannah’s hat. “I like it,” she said pointing, and then she turned to Hym with a broad grin. She threw her arms outward. To Hannah’s rare surprise, Hym moved forward and hugged the woman. “Good to see you, Mudbug,” he said.

Mudbug
, thought Hannah.
Curious nickname
. When the two separated, Hannah stood waiting. Hym looked over and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. We know each other from the neighborhood. Mudbug lived three doors up from Mags and me, next to the Reverend here, and just down the way from Calvin. Calvin is now her husband and fellow doctor. Where is he, by the way?”

“With a patient. He’ll be down as soon as he’s done.” Susan looked at the two. “It’s a long drive from Twilight. Would y’all like something to drink? Coffee, maybe?””

“I could use a jolt,” Hannah declared with noted enthusiasm.

Susan turned to her grandfather. “Pawpaw, you want me to bring you something to drink back here or do you want to go to the cafeteria?”

“I could use some water. Thank you, dear, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit down.”

Susan helped her grandfather to one of the reception area chairs. “What does everyone want?”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Hannah said.

“No, no, you stay. I believe he wants to talk to you two anyway. I got it.” After getting everyone’s orders, she announced that she would be right back. With that, the doctor headed toward a hall with a sign indicating the way to the cafeteria.

For the first few moments after, the three remaining chatted about the general wedding plans. Whipson listened with a smile, but Hannah could tell that something bothered him. Finally, she asked, “When we talked on the phone, you sounded upset. Is something wrong?”

Whipson looked first to Hym, then to Hannah. “Well, I did want to talk to you about the wedding, of course, but I’m afraid I’m going to impose on our friendship a little, Hym, if possible,” looking to Hannah, he added, “and as a boon from you, young lady.”

Hannah’s curiosity peaked. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and crossed her arms. Hym noticed the intense focus but said nothing to her. Instead, he responded to Whipson.

“Anything. Name it.”

“You did good investigative work in Zebulon,” the Reverend then peered at Hannah, “and Hym mentioned that you were a talented investigator.””

Hym gave his bride-to-be a proud smile. “The best I’ve ever met.” He lifted her hand to kiss it. She returned his grin before addressing the Reverend.

“Well, you can’t believe him. I’ve got him under my thumb.”

Whipson laughed. He suppressed a cough before the expression on his face became serious. “There’s something I’d like you to look into.””

“Pawpaw, she’s getting married.”

Hannah and Hym looked up to see Susan carrying a holder with four drinks. Beside her stood a man wearing a similar physician’s coat.
Calvin York
, she inferred.
5’10” to 5’11”. Mid to late thirties or early forties. Short brown hair. Hazel-brown eyes. Medium build. Angled face with thin nose.

“I know, dear. I’m marrying them,” Whipson informed.

Calvin sat his drink down and gave Hym a hug before offering a hand to Hannah. Shaking it, she added to her profile. S
olid, poised handshake. Steady eye contact. Focused and confident.

The reverend turned back to Hannah. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Calvin shook his head as he sat. He turned his attention to Hannah and Hym. “It’s coincidence, that’s all.””

Hannah listened, intrigued. “What’s a coincidence?” she asked.

Hym looked over at Hannah with a quizzical expression. She maintained focus on Calvin. Seeing Hym’s reaction, Calvin sat back before answering. “Well, there’s been some deaths. Jonathan, here, seems to think they’re suspicious.”

“Are they?” Hannah asked, staring straight at the man. He moved in an uncomfortable manner.

“I admit there are some odd things about it all, but Happiness is an advanced senior living facility. Death is just part of it.”

Whipson coughed hard and broke the tension. After clearing his throat, he waved a finger in the young doctor’s direction. “Seven deaths to be accurate. Not random at all. Every one of them died when they shouldn’’t have.”

Calvin again shook his head. “Not true. All were terminal.”

“Yes, but they died before they should have, and under strange circumstances.”