Kee Patterbee - Hannah Starvling 03 - The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Fore (20 page)

Holmes produced a reassuring smile. “No accolades necessary. I am just glad I was on hand.” He gestured to Hannah, Borden, and himself. “And this is nothing personal. It is just……troubling. Things are happening that need answering, but I am sure it will all turn out as expected.”

“I’m sure it will.” Calvin rose again and glanced over Borden. “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to my wife. I’m sure you’ll want to talk to her when she is able. I can’t say for sure when that will be, but I’ll let you know. Until then, you can find me there.”

“I will.”

All rose and exited. Hannah, Holmes, and Borden walked behind Calvin, who moved at an accelerated pace to the stairwell and exited.

“Your thoughts?” Holmes inquired in a general manner.

Borden responded first.

“Not sure. He seemed all over the place. Upset. Angry. Disturbed. Did you notice his hesitation when I mentioned exhuming some of the victims?”

Hannah considered the point. She too had noticed Calvin’s hard swallow at the mention of digging up and retesting alleged victims. However, she remained uncertain if it were a sign of fear from knowing what would be found, or fear from not knowing what would come to light. “I’’m biased,” she admitted in response. “I know him, though not well, but my gut instinct says no.”

“I don’t trust mine. Just the facts. He and his wife have the closest relationship to the victims. And with her now a target---”

“Alleged target,” Holmes interrupted. “That is yet determined.”

“It’s more than probable. But regardless, evidence points to him.”

It does
, Hannah pondered to herself. She also admitted that were she still with the FBI, she would be focused on the man. Still, she did not believe he was behind everything. “But not conclusively. There’s still not confirmation that the death of any of these alleged victims resulted from murder. Nor do we have a definitive means. Or even a solid, workable motive. We have a series of similar deaths under unusual circumstance. A theory about poison. And conjecture over a cover up of fraudulent billing. Not even that is certain. In short order, gentlemen, it’s like my grandfather says. We don’’t have squat in the way of anything, just a bunch of theories and speculations, and that’s going nowhere.”

Stopping before the elevator, Borden ran his hand over his chin and responded to Hannah. “All right then. Since Henry says you’re used to this kind of thing, more so than me, what do you suggest?”

“That we get answers where there are gaps. One way or another, it will push us forward.”

They stepped into the elevator and the sleuth looked to the physician. “Would you be willing to sign off on a request for exhumation for two of the victims?”

“I would.”

Hannah turned her attention to Borden. “Do you know a judge to sign off on that?”

“I got someone in mind.”

“Then that, gentlemen, is what I think we should do.”

“And what about you?” Borden asked.

“I’ve got someone I have to talk to who might have some answers, and I’m going to ask Calvin for an official copy of his financial records. I think he’’ll go along with it now without too much fuss.” She held up the candy box in the bag she had retrieved from the cafeteria. “We need to get this tested for trace.”

“It’s already corrupted.”

“True, but corrupted or not, it’s seems impossible that poison would be in the box from any outside source from me handling it. One way or another, it’ll give us an answer.””

Both Holmes and Borden agreed.

“So, do you know anyone who can do a rush job?”

“I know someone at Stefano College in the criminal studies department. She does work for me when I need it,” the lawman responded.

“I have a similar thing at Serling.”

For the first time since they met, Hannah saw Borden grin.

“Serling? You a Gremlin?”

“A big green monster maniac. Graduated there before I joined the bureau. You a member of the Purple Testament?”

“Faith in the hue.”

Holmes shook his head. “I have never understood sporting rivalries.”

Chapter Seventeen

Once back on the floor with the ICU unit, Hannah, Holmes and Borden parted company. Before leaving, Holmes agreed to make the request for the exhumation of Brother Wessel. He would also seek permission for one of the other victims, Laurette Bowen, through their family. Bowen was one of the two victims for whom he was the primary care physician. Borden agreed to take the request before a judge once everything was ready as well as test the box for poison. Nevertheless, for the moment, he headed back to Tantalus to take care of ongoing duties.

Hannah, again sought out her husband. She found him still with Whipson in the ICU waiting area. Pulling Hym aside, she recounted everything and inquired about whether he had spoken or seen Calvin.

“I saw him pass by, but he didn’t stop,” Hym recalled. “He seemed upset for sure.”

“Nervous? Scared? Angry?”

“Hard to say. I mean, he just went on by, never looking our way. His head was down and he had his hands shoved into his pockets. So, what’s the word?”

“Pensive.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s it. Like he had a lot on his mind. Not surprising, given his wife is in ICU and you asked him if he put her there.””

Hannah raised her head to examine her husband’s expression. She could not tell if it were an honest remark or sarcastic statement. “Stepping on toes,” was all she said. It was enough to cause Hym to stiffen a little.
Sarcasm
, she noted. A discussion for later. At that later time, she would remind him of his agreement to the terms of the investigation. Where it led would not be restricted by friendship and bruised egos. For now, she chose to remain focused on Calvin, regardless of Hym’s reluctance to do so.

“Brooding, but over what? I told you how he reacted when the Sheriff mentioned exhuming the body. What do you make of that?”

“Alright.” Hym placed his hands on his hips before throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. He then brought his eyes back down to meet his wife’s. ““If it were me, I’d worry.”

Hannah cocked her head to one side but said nothing, letting Hym continue.

“Not because of guilt, but because it’s a natural reaction. We all…react in some way when we’re accused, even if we didn’t do it. In this case, it’s that fear that there might be something going on. I’d imagine he’’s thinking, ‘what if I’m wrong and there is something to all this? When they exhume the body, they’ll find poison and they'll blame me’.” Hym raised fingers as he counted and peered straight at Hannah. “One, he’s been denying there was something going down which makes him look like he’s trying to throw off the scent of the hound.” He pointed to his wife before he continued with his action. “Two, it has to be clear to him that whatever is going on centers on him and/or Mudbug. Three, this is all out of his control. Remember what I told you about him? He’s always in control. This is enough to send anyone over the edge, but a guy like Calvin…” Hym paused, lifted his hand and placed it on Hannah’s shoulder. “Someone attacked the woman he loves. Adores, even. If it were me, I’d be more than upset. I would be downright pissed, in particular at myself for not protecting you.” He leaned over and kissed Hannah’s forehead. Pulling back, he added, “That’s what I make of it.”

Hannah considered Hym’s argument. “Scent of the hound. Did you just call me…”

“No!” Hym threw his hands up in a defensive measure. “Hound, as in bloodhound. If I called that, it would make me…””

“Right, we’ll leave it at that, mister.” Hannah pulled him forward for a quick make up smooch. “Okay, I can see that. I told Dr. Holmes and Sheriff Borden that I didn’t think he was guilty, but I couldn’t wrap my head around Calvin’s reaction. Everything up until that point was anger, frustration, and passive-aggressive denial. Then, he just hesitated and swallowed hard at the mention of exhumation. But what you said makes some sense.”
Set it aside for now
, she added in a thought. She glanced down at her phone. ““It’s some time before I have to meet up with Rhoades.” The sleuth looked over to Whipson, who yet again prayed as he sat in the waiting area. “You think we could talk him into some food? He needs to keep his strength up.”

“Until he sees Mudbug, he won’t move.”

“And you’re not going to move until he does, I suppose.”

Hym gave a meek smile and threw his hands half up as if caught.

“Well, I’ll go back to the cafeteria and bring both of you something. What does he like?”

A large, appreciative smile came to Hym as he drew Hannah up to his chest. “Love you, Sherlock. Thanks for understanding.”

“Love you too, Sweet Face. That’s what we do now. We’re a team. They mean a lot to you, so they mean a lot to me. I’ll be back in just a bit. You want something?”

“Not that hungry at the moment.”

“The Reverend’s not the only one who needs to keep his strength up. All this will end soon and then there’s that honeymoon to attend to. I have plans for you.””

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“I do.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“And I meant it.”

Hannah gave her husband a kiss and yet again headed back toward the elevators. Per usual, her mind drifted to the case. Doing so, a wave of frustration fell over her. Her instincts told her that she had all the pieces to the puzzle, all the players in the game, but she had yet to sort it or them out. As she waited for the elevator with a young couple, she tried to focus but found it hard to do so. Too much was happening around her at a time when she wanted nothing more than to wrap the case up and get on with her life. Her honeymoon with Hym hung over her. Dreams of their life together. A future unwritten, to date, unrealized. But her promise to Whipson drove her forward and at the same time, grounded her in the present.
You made a promise. Keep it. Solve it. Pick through it.

After a moment of sorting through the various details, Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose.
Still missing something
, she determined. Then, the words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle speaking as Sherlock Holmes came to mind. “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.”
 

Hannah turned her focus in that direction after stepping onto the elevator.
If it’s all here, I’m missing something obvious, but what?
She gave herself a quick rundown of her suspects, both believable and unbelievable. First on her list was Ms. Lindsay, the candy shop owner. Hannah rolled her eyes, chastising herself for even considering the possibility.
No connection other than her husband, and his death doesn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary. No dice.
Next was Whipson. Again, she reprimanded herself for even looking at him.
Too ill. Still sane. Too upset. No killer.
Susan was out unless her health incident turned up unrelated or a plea of help, as was Wessel, unless she misread the situation. That left only three possibilities.
Calvin, Janus, and Rhoades
, the sleuth listed
.
Calvin remained suspect, but only in the slightest manner to her. He seemed to care for his wife as well as the Reverend. Hannah further noted that although reluctant at first, he did agree in the end to their request to look further into his life, despite his reaction to the threat of exhumation of bodies.

As the doors opened, Hannah’s quirk presented itself. After stepping out, she moved to the side and contemplated.
Father Janus stayed in Twilight after the wedding. Susan got ill this morning.
Her eyes widened as she twisted her lips and pulled her cheeks in. “Rhoades is at work,” she let out half aloud.

Stepping out into the hallway, she turned toward the cafeteria. Along the way, she saw the center’s gift shop, which she had missed before. Glancing through the glass pane of the storefront as she passed by, she saw a woman looking over a large stack of candy gift boxes. Hannah stopped to observe.
Spur of the Moment
, she noted as she read the display sign and recognized the containers.
Ms. Lindsay’s
. In that moment, she realized she had made the erroneous assumption that all the candy came from the store in Happiness. Now, she understood that it could have come from at least two locations.
Maybe more
, she speculated. With that, Hannah entered the shop and approached the woman at the counter whom she recognized from reception.
Wormwood
. The woman smiled as she approached.

“How is Dr. York?” Wormwood inquired.

“Stable for the moment. You sure get around. I thought you worked reception?”

“Oh, I’m all over the place. Reception some.” She gave a pleasing smile. ““I’m an old candy striper all over the hospital as well. A volunteer. Wherever I’m needed. It keeps me busy since my husband passed.””

Hannah winced a little. “I’m so sorry.”

Wormwood waved the comment off. “Well, thank you dear. That’s sweet, but these things happen as we age. It’s to be expected. Sometimes when we’re not that old. That’s when it hurts the most. To those we love. It happens and we never know why. Other times, we just have to suffer through them and think there’’s an opportunity to amend things thereafter.”