Kee Patterbee - Hannah Starvling 03 - The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Fore (16 page)

“I think he’d been here several times, come to think of it. Must have.” Whipson scratched his head before adding, “You know, I can’t say for sure.”

“Well, what’s he like on a day to day basis?”

Whipson chuckled and smirked. “Well, it’s not right of me to say, but he can be a bit of a horse’s patootie at times. In a word, blunt. But through it all, he’’s a good man.”

“Can you think of a reason he would do this?” The sleuth waited for a second before adding, “Like, maybe if he didn’t…know he was doing it?”

Whipson coughed hard several time as he frowned. Hannah handed him his glass and examined his emotional response. Although the Reverend’s condition led him to cough at an increasing rate, this time it struck her as different. It was almost as if her question had shocked him and this was the resulting response. She then watched as he drew the tips of his fingers to his forehead and rubbed them across. Guilt, she inferred, but is it for Janus or is it due to his own?

Hannah determined the minister’s micro expressions, the subtle changes in one’s face, suggested guilt of some kind. Nevertheless, balanced against his health, each of those responses were easy to explain. Reading faces was not an exact science. I’’m competent at it, Hannah admitted to herself, but not skilled.

When the Reverend answered, it drew Hannah out of her considerations. His answer was halting and uncertain.

“I… uh… I can’t think of one.”” The clergyman paused before asking, “How is that even possible? To not know?”

“Self-denial, perhaps. A mental condition.” Hannah stared at the man, pulling her lips in for a second before she continued. “Maybe strong medications.””

Whipson’s eyes narrowed and his face tightened as he looked to the would-be detective. He cleared his throat and studied Hannah. “He’s not on any medication that I know of. He’s pretty much an advocate against pharmaceuticals of any kind. Something he shared in common with poor Richard.” He rocked his jaw from side to side, as his eyes shifted downward into near slits. “We’re not talking about Ray anymore, are we?”

Hannah said nothing, but waited for the man to process the information. In a roundabout manner, she had just asked him if he were a murderer. Her great concern was how such a consideration would affect him. She watched as he rolled the tips of his fingers across his lower lip. He shifted his eyes away from hers, locking them on the activities at the reception. She could tell he was thinking over the possibility. In a moment, he nodded.

“I’m not sure how to respond to that,” Whipson stated. “There are periods where I don’t remember doing things. Susan said it was side effect of the medication… and the disease. It’s always getting worse.”” He shuddered before continuing. His response was both an internal and external question. “Is it possible?” Turning to look at her, the Reverend bore great weight on his face. ““Could I do these things and not know?”

Tears welled into the clergyman’s eyes. He took hold of Hannah’s hand and squeezed. Desperate, she noted. Unsure. A sudden guilt ran through her body. In her intense focus, she further burdened the man, not unburdened him. Now, she had to undo what she had done, to reassure him, even though she herself was unsure.

She gave him a forced, yet somehow still weak smile. “I don’t think so, but what kind of gumshoe would I be if I didn’t question the person who brought it to my attention? Have to give everyone a fair shake. That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks.”

“I don’t pay you anything,” the Reverend responded. It relieved Hannah to see him say so with a slight smile on his face.

“That’s okay. I’m not charging anything.”

Whipson half laughed before he again broke into a coughing fit. Hearing this, Susan made her way to him.

“Pawpaw?”

The Reverend waved her off. “It’s okay. We were just discussing the future.”

Susan straightened herself up. She placed a hand on her hip and shook a finger at her grandfather with the other. “I thought Reverend’s weren’t supposed to lie.””

The clergyman grinned before letting the image fall away. He peered at his granddaughter before glancing over Hannah. “Everyone does. Most of the time to ourselves.”

Chapter Fourteen

When Hym turned the car off the freeway and onto the ramp, the motion dragged Hannah from her thoughts. She caught sight of a sign in the headlights. Reading it, she turned to Hym with a questioning look. He looked over and grinned.

“Were staying here? For our honeymoon?” Hannah asked in a terse and edgy tone.

“No, remember the town I told you about? The one on the other side. We’re staying there, just for the night. Tomorrow, you go to the center and clear your pretty little head of all those questions you are mulling over. Then we go on to our honeymoon.””

Hannah huffed and crossed her arms. She cocked her head and eyed her husband out of the corner of her eye.

“Come on, now. You know it will bug you until you get it out of your system. Besides, where we are staying has a cool museum. There’s a great place for breakfast in the morning. We’ll be in and out of Happiness and get to our first destination tomorrow night.”

Thinking it over, Hannah bobbed her head. “Okay, but only because you married me. One night in Tantalus.” She paused for a moment. “You do realize this means our first night as husband and wife will be spent in Greek hell.”

“Nah, can’t be. Wherever you are is heaven enough for me,” Hym responded.

“Good save.”

*****

The two arrived in the small town of Tantalus. Hannah marveled at the setting. In many ways, it reminded her of Twilight.
Old and caught in time
, she thought. When they pulled in from of a well kempt but old style plantation home, the amateur sleuth shot Hym a wide-eyed look, backed by a slight grin. “Don’t you just love it?” he said.

Hannah nodded as she turned to take in the sight of a long, oval shaped neon motel sign reading Bate’s again. It occasionally flickered with an ebb and flow of luminosity, lighting the street. “Classic,” Hannah said half-aloud.

Hym led Hannah inside. Norma Fish, the owner, greeted them.
60’ish. Thin. Average height. Reddish, but greying hair
, Hannah filed mentally.

“Sorry for the hour,” Hym said.

“Nonsense, dear. You’re not disturbing anyone. We expected you. I received a call from a sweet young woman named Magdalen telling me you were on the way, so everything is good to go. You two are the only guests for tonight.”

Norma handed Hym the keys and said, “Up the stairs, second door on the left. The Red Room it’s called. Just for newlyweds. I’ll bring your bags right up.””

Hym declined, insisting he could manage and he started up. Hannah paused as she caught sight of a stack of books resting on the table next to the counter. Picking one up, she read over the title.

“A Murderous Little Town: The dark history of a small Alabama community’ by H. E. Holmes.” She flipped the book over to see a picture of a man in his 50s, glasses, salt and pepper hair, with a broad smile. “Hmm,” she said with an intrigued tone.

“That’s a local author and a good friend. Its several years old, but he’s updating it. It’s a good little read if you’re interested in that sort of thing. You should take one.”

Hannah smiled and reached into her pocket but the woman waved her off. “No charge. On the house.”

Hannah thanked Norma and made her way up the stairs and into the room. Hym was already resting on the bed. Seeing the book, he asked about it.

“A wedding gift, I guess,” she said laying it on the bedside table. “It seems this quiet little town has a bit of a dark past.”” She crawled up next to Hym, resting her head on his shoulder. “Tell me again why you took me to a town named for Greek Hell with a history of serial killers for our honeymoon?”

“I was hoping to scare you into bed.”

“Well, you got me into bed, so now what, Mr. Miles?”

“I have a few ideas,” he offered, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. Within moments, both were asleep. They spent the remaining hours of the night in each other’s arms from the pure exhaustion of the day.

*****

The couple awoke around 10:00 AM. After a shower and a change of clothes, they made their way to the diner Hym had mentioned. A restaurant named
Nick of Time
. On the table in each booth was an old, small, fortune-telling machine with a small devil’s head on top. One placed a coin in the device and a slip of paper with a fortune appeared. Placing in a nickel, Hannah took the offering and read. “You have all you need before you. Hmm. This thing works.”

“Uh huh,” Hym offered, producing another coin and dropping it in the slot. Taking the slip, he laughed. “You will lead a life of mystery and adventure with the one you love. Maybe we should buy it and take it with us.”

Both laughed and chatted as they waited for their order. Once it arrived, Hannah glanced at her husband and smiled.

“Did you give this honeymoon any thought at all?” she asked, taking a large bite of biscuits and gravy into her mouth.

“I admit. I almost didn’t plan on anything. With you, something always comes up.”

Hannah glowered but Hym continued.

“So, I figured I’d cut it off at the pass. I saw you talking to the Reverend last night, and I know that curious mind of yours. We're passing nearby on our way to our first destination, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check into things in Happiness one more time. After we finish up here, we'll check out the museum, which you will love by the way. Susan and the Reverend are going to meet us at the medical center again later.”

“They’re already back?”

“Everyone but Father Janus. At the reception, he asked if it were okay for him to keep the room since it was already rented. I didn’t think you’d mind. Besides, you were too busy becoming Mrs. Miles to notice. Calvin, Susan, and the Reverend left a little after you talked to him. He wasn’t feeling well.”

Hannah nodded. “I’m sure it was for obvious reasons.”

Hym shrugged. Hannah could tell the thought of the Reverend’s impending demise was raw to her husband. It hurt Hannah’s soul to see how it weighed on him. She wanted to say something to ease his sorrow, but she knew no words could comfort, so she reached over, took his hand and held it. He looked up with an appreciative smile.

The waitress interrupted Hannah’s gesture with a smile and offered more coffee. Both agreed. Looking the woman over, Hannah sized her up.
Late 30s. 5’6. Black hair beginning to grey. Thin. Pretty but aged.

“Excuse me, but do you know much about Happiness?”

The waitress smiled as she filled the cups. “Are we talking the emotional kind, the spiritual kind, or…” The woman gestured toward the street. “The town down the way?””

“The town,” Hannah confirmed with a chuckle.

“Not much, I suppose. You’d think I would since I live right next door. But Tantalus and Happiness, they’re altogether different sentiments.””

As Hannah questioned the waitress, Hym’s phone rang. He answered as the two women’s conversation paused for him. As the pleasant expression on his face drained away into nothingness, Hannah could tell the news was bad. His eyes widened as they turned up to his bride. ““We’re in Tantalus. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He clicked the phone off. Hannah again took hold of his hand.

“Is it the Reverend?”

Hym shook his head. “That was him. It’s Mudbug. She went into cardiac arrest.”

Hannah’s mouth fell agape as her eyes narrowed. “Is she…”

“No, I didn’t catch much, but I think she was at the center. Another doctor was on hand. He stabilized her. She’s in ICU.”” Hym paused as he pulled out his wallet. The waitress, who overheard the conversation, shook her head. “Just go, honey. It’s covered. Go.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hym sped the Mustang into the medical center parking lot. He and Hannah bolted inside, once again encountering the woman named Wormwood at reception.

“ICU is on the third floor. Waiting room will be on the right as you exit onto the floors.” Wormwood smiled toothily and added, “Good luck.””

After making their way to the floor and into the waiting room, Hannah and Hym found Whipson sitting in the corner. He held the crucifix from his neck in his hand as he mumbled, eyes closed. The couple came to an immediate stop before him. After a second, the clergyman opened his eyes. They showed red with sorrow. He reached up with both hands, Hannah and Hym taking hold. They sat beside him as tears rolled down the lines of his aged face.

For a long time, no one said anything. Then Whipson cleared his throat. He lifted a shaky hand to his mouth. “I don’t understand what’s happened.””

Hym placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Have you heard anything?”

“All I know is that she was consulting on a patient and started to feel ill. She passed out and her heart stopped. Henry Holmes, the doctor she was working with, saved her. He and Calvin are with her now.”

“When did this happen?” Hym inquired.

“A while ago,” Whipson answered in a shaky voice. “I’m not sure of the exact time. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier but it all happened so fast. By the time Jackie came and got me…I just didn’’t think about it.”