Kee Patterbee - Hannah Starvling 03 - The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Fore (31 page)

Hannah glanced around the room, twisting her nose several times in the process.

“Did his sister come with him?”

Whipson’s eyes watered up as he peered at her. “Who?”

“Ms. Wormwood. Ruth Wormwood.”

“I…uh…for a moment. She sat with him and then excused herself.” The Reverend gave an odd expression. “His sister?”

“Twins. Fraternal it would seem.”

Whipson coughed hard before answering. “She brought the box.” He peered down at the body, centering on the now freed wrapper. “But Raymond said not to eat them.”” Coughing even harder, the Reverend began gasping for air.

“Stay with him. I’ll get some help,” Hannah said as she started for the door.

“But where’s---” was all Hym managed before Hannah disappeared out into the hall. She headed down toward the nurses’ station. Reaching the desk, she found a male nurse. “We have an emergency in the waiting room.”

“Emergency?”

“One’s dead and one can’t breathe. Get someone down there. NOW!”

The nurse rose and rounded the desk toward the waiting area. Hannah was about to follow when it hit her that all that occurred distracted her from a larger problem.
Excused herself
echoed in her mind.
Why?
She stopped.
If she wanted him to suffer, why give him the candy before she got to Susan
. Her eyes narrowed.
She’s sacrificing her brother. She knew he would cave.
She looked back to the left of the desk at the double doors leading to the ICU. ““It’s a distraction,” she muttered. Darting toward the entrance, she slapped the large red button next to the doors. The large glass panels slid open and she darted in.

“You can’t be in here now,” someone yelled, but the sleuth paid them no heed. She ran along the large area, past rooms divided by glass panels. Some were easy to see into. Others had pulled around curtains, obscuring the patient. As she passed one, she glanced to the wall mounted marker board next which displayed the patient’s name. Slowing to read one, she felt an arm grasp her bicep.

“You can’t be in here,” a large woman in a nurse’s uniform said in a stern voice. Hannah jerked free.

“Dr. York is in danger. Where is she?”

The woman stepped back, stunned at the aggressive sound of the sleuth’s voice. “I…I’m calling security.”

“You do that.”

Hannah continued around the room until she came to one with curtains closed. Glancing over, she saw the name York written. She yanked the glass door open and parted the curtain. Her eyes fell to Calvin, who lay sprawled on the floor. Two small stun marks showed on the back of his neck. She could tell by his chest movements that he was still breathing. Wormwood stood next to Susan on the opposite side, drawing fluid from a vial. Seeing Hannah, she paused. As the sleuth moved toward her, Wormwood withdrew the syringe from the container and held it high in the air, ready to plunge it into the IV.

“Don’t,” Wormwood threatened.

Hannah came to a stop. “I’m stopping. Let’s just talk about this.”

“No time for that, I’m afraid.”

Glancing the woman over, Hannah noticed that she had cut her hair short. She had dyed it a darker shade than before and she wore no glasses, but did have on a nurses’ uniform. It occurred to her that this was how the woman had slipped past everyone without recognition.

The two women stood locked in their respective places. Hannah’s mind raced. She drew back upon the lessons of negotiating a situation from her training as an agent. In a standard negotiation, the threat, being Wormwood, would want something. Freedom, money, or some other goal, but in this particular situation, that presented a problem. What the threat wanted was for Whipson to suffer. At present, that meant seeing Susan dead, something Wormwood was self-capable of achieving.
Need something to negotiate for
.

All of a sudden, the intercom sounded. “Code Blue. ICU waiting. Code Blue. ICU waiting.”

Hannah watched Wormwood as her face pulled a slight bit. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as if she could see the words. A second call followed the first. “Security needed in ICU. Security to ICU.” Hannah repressed a grin. She found her answer.
Let’s negotiate
.

“You’ve got time now. The Reverend’s dead.”

Wormwood’s expression changed from confusion to slow building rage.

Clarify the situation
.

“No reason to hurt her now or my friend. Where is she?”

Reassess
.

Wormwood’s hand hovered above the IV infusion point. “Bastard.” Her voice was cold, distant, and angry. Over sixty years of pent up rage, without warning, lost its outlet.

Off track. Situation critical
.

“He owed us.”

Sympathize
.

“I get it. He caused your mother’s death.”

“He destroyed us. Tore us apart.”

Stall. Let her talk it out. Empathize
.

“I can see that. Your brothers and you. Raymond. He’s your twin, right?”

By this time, Wormwood was struggling. Uncertainty played on her face and she talked less to Hannah than to herself.

“I imagined making him suffer for years, even after Ray found me.”

Wormwood let out a distraught laugh. To Hannah, it sounded almost sad. Like that of a lost child who confused emotions. Taking the opportunity, she stepped closer to the bed, more toward Susan. Wormwood did not react.

“When did you find him?”

The woman looked up. There were no tears in her eyes, just fury. Unbridled anger, but she was calm for the moment.

“Four years ago. He took over the chapel. I met him at a function. He mentioned where he was from and it hit me like a bolt out of the blue.”

“So you recognized him.”

“Gabe built this community.” She gave an odd half chuckle. “What, eighteen years ago was it? Some crazy dream he had. A place to retire his parents and us. Happiness.”” She laughed once more but when her eyes came back again to take in Hannah, the ire showed again. “But I was anything but.”

Losing her. Sympathize. Empathize
.

“You had to get even. He wronged you.”

Wormwood’s eyes turned to slits. “Gabe tried to help me. After we met, he sent me to see people. Signed me up for classes. Stress relief. Yoga. Even martial arts. He was always into healing. Holistic or pharmaceutical. He wasn’t opposed to either.”

She’s losing it. Offer a solution
. Hannah thought about this for a brief second. There was no real solution. The woman was going down, but Susan’s life was at stake and she needed to make a decision. The escalation in Wormwood’s anger indicated to the sleuth that she was on the edge. She opted to offer the one thing she could not provide. A distraction via a lie.

“What about your brother? You could still get him and make it out. I’m sure you made an exit plan. Use it. I won’t stop you.””

Wormwood held Hannah in her gaze for a second before her eyes drifted to the door.

Considering it.

The woman’s hand eased back a little as Hannah relaxed a slight bit. However, Wormwood’s eyes widened as the curtain behind the sleuth jerked back.

“Don’t move,” a shaky voice called out.

Everything went into slow motion for Hannah. Without turning, she could see what played out behind her. One of the elder security guards came from the intercom call. Her mind’s eye imagined his shaky hands grasping an unloaded pistol. Her eyes never left Wormwood. Instead, she lunged across Susan’s body and grabbed the hand holding the syringe, causing Wormwood to drop it. It plunged into the pillow beside the doctor’s unconscious form.

“Not today.”

To Hannah’s surprise, her target did not jerk back. Instead, she threw the palm of her hand upwards, catching Hannah’s jawline. It was enough to send the sleuth backwards. She stumbled over the still unconscious form of Calvin, which in turn sent her reeling into the guard. Both fell to the floor. She rolled over in time to see Wormwood make it over both of them and out the door.

Unexpected
, Hannah thought as she rose. She grabbed her jaw and shook her head, recalling the woman’s words just before about her husband signing her up for martial arts. She bolted out the door following after.

Reaching the hallway, Hannah caught a glimpse of her prey as the woman rounded the corner. It was in the opposite direction of the elevators.

Hym stood in the waiting room doorway, waving his cane, indicating the direction. “Stairwell.”

“Call Borden,” Hannah yelled as she ran past.

By the time she reached the stairwell, the door had almost closed. Hannah yanked it open and followed. Glancing down between the stairs, she could see Wormwood, who was a full half flight ahead. Though the woman was fast, Hannah began making gains. Still, she calculated that it would not be enough. As she reached the last half landing, she took hold of the rail and hurtled down, landing next to the woman. The sleuth shocked her prey just enough to grab hold of one arm. With her free hand, she threw a knuckle punch to Wormwood’s side. The force pushed her back to the wall, but when Hannah attempted to throw a second punch to the woman’s face, her opponent blocked it with her forearm.

Crap
.

Hannah did not have time to finish her thought before Wormwood pushed her backwards. The suddenness of a formable opponent unbalanced the sleuth. She did not have time to react to a punch to her eye. Blood shot from the sudden opening of a cut, and splattered down her face. It gave Wormwood enough time to exit.

Again, Hannah shook her head and wiped the blood away. She grabbed the door and followed after. The exit led out into the main lobby and as she exited, she saw Gran rise down the way as she recognized Wormwood. Fear seized the sleuth.
Don’t, Gran
, she thought, hoping that the elder Starvling would just let the woman pass. However, to her surprise, Gran tossed a magazine under the woman’s foot as she ran passed. It sent Wormwood in a spin, from which she could not recover. Her head slammed into the glass exit door, which shattered. Wormwood rose and turned to face Hannah. Gran stood to the side between the two. All stopped. Wormwood wiped the blood from her brow. The cut was similar to Hannah’s. She shot Gran a look and grinned.

“Nice,” she offered, before turning to exit.

Once more, Hannah started after.

“You’re hurt, dear,” Gran noted as she passed.

“I’m fine. Get Borden.”

When Hannah pushed on the door, it gave way and shattered from the previous impact. When she stepped out into the air, she saw Papa Jay pushing himself up from the ground. Though she wanted to pursue Wormwood, she moved toward him. He waved her off.

“Dogs are after her. Follow the barking.”

Hannah glanced off into the hospital lawn. She saw Wormwood running, chased by two tiny canines whose leashes flapped behind them. She ran after as hard as she could push herself. For a woman in her sixties, Hannah noted that she was more than fit. She was fast, but Hazelnut and Gigantor kept pace, each barking and attempting to nip at the woman. When Wormwood slowed to kick at Gigantor, Hazelnut dipped between her legs. The dog’s leash wrapped around the woman’s shoe, causing her to fall forward. It was all the delay that Hannah needed. She reached the woman, grabbed her shoulder, and flipped her over. She drew back her fist.

“Was it worth it?”

Wormwood lay silent before she spit in Hannah’s face. With one punch, Hannah slammed Wormwood in the chin with all the force she could muster. She neutralized the threat. Hannah plopped to the ground to catch her breath as Hazelnut freed herself and came to Hannah for licks and love. Gigantor took to tugging on Wormwood’s sleeve as he growled. After all this, Hannah laughed. “Good puppies,” she said half aloud.

*****

An hour and a half later, Hannah sat on an examination table as Holmes stitched her brow. Her eye was black and swollen.

“Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Your friend is fine. A little sedated still but she will come around. She should be fine for you to visit after we’re done. I spoke with her fiancé. He asked me to let you know that he will be here in a short while.”

“Was she able to tell you much?”

“Some, but I believe the question you are asking is why they took her here.”

Hannah affirmed.

“It is just speculation, but I would offer that they meant to use her as a distraction, but upon arriving, they found her presence more a hindrance. Unnecessary if you will. No one would notice someone asleep in the emergency room…There. Completed.””

“Will it leave a bad scar?”

“I am quite adept at suturing. This should heal fine.” He leaned back and admired his work. “There, you will need to have the stitches removed in ten days or so. I take it you have a family physician?”

Hannah glanced at the work in the mirror Holmes provided. “I believe I do now,” she said with a smile. “If you are willing?””

“It would be my honor. Ten days. I will write you a prescription for some pain medication.”