Regardless, Hannah felt justified in her reasoning. She was an experienced investigator. Now, she held a stake in the game. Elias was not a stranger. He was a friend, a good man, a loving husband to his wife, and soon to be a father, assuming he survives, she noted. But the one thing Hannah did share with Brandon, as she had done with Bland earlier, was her belief Elias would not attempt suicide. “He’s got too much to live for,” she insisted for the second time that day. Janine agreed without hesitation. Hannah noted Wexler remained quiet. Guilt, perhaps, she pondered. Brandon never offered alternate possibilities. Instead, he nodded.
“Do you or your husband carry a lot of money or valuables?”
A sudden look of shock and recognition ran across Janine’s face. She closed her eyes and placed her hand on her belly. “This is a nightmare,” Janine said, rubbing her stomach. “I knew something like this would happen sometime.”
Brandon looked up from his notepad with a quizzical face.
Catching on to the officer’s face, Janine explained, “Because of his diamonds.”
Hannah watched Wexler during the exchange. He made an ever so slight move and drew his eyes in a small amount. She made an annotation of it in her ongoing profile.
Brandon leaned forward, pencil in hand, ready to record. “Diamonds?” he asked, curiosity oozing from his words.
Hannah noted the sudden, extreme interest. While the young officer before seemed interested, now he appeared down right intrigued. Is he interested in the case or the diamonds, she asked herself?
“Those darn mushrooms. Truffles they call them. There’s a huge black market for them, you know. He always insisted on carrying them himself.” Janine looked down at her abdomen. “Sooner or later, someone was going to come after them.”
Brandon gave a puzzled expression. “Truffles? Like candy? I thought you said diamonds.”
“That’s right, sir,” Janine answered, “mushrooms. He called them his diamonds.”
“Candy diamond mushrooms?”
Janine appeared unsure about what to say, so Hannah interjected herself. “Just mushrooms, otherwise known as truffles. They come in different varieties. Black and white, among them. They’re expensive. Hundreds of dollars a pound. Sometimes thousands.”
Brandon frowned. He sat up straight. “These aren’t some kind of magic mushrooms, are they?”
Hannah and Janine both shook their heads.
Waving his finger to say no, Wexler attempted to explain. “No, sir. Just plain, old, edible mushrooms.”
Looking at the officer’s confused face, Hannah added, “Of the non-hallucinogenic nature.”
“Where does he keep these expensive ‘shrooms?”
Hannah took note of the officer’s question. She studied his face as queries ran through her mind. Where does he keep them? Are they missing? If so, how does he know? Is this a general question or is he directing it to me? Uncertain about where he would fit into her investigation, Hannah assessed the situation. She needed to tell him something to test her theory. If she gave them a bit of information, she could follow that trail back to whoever sought it. Thereafter, it would only be a matter of finding out if they targeted Elias. Unless or course, Hannah, you are just being paranoid, she reproached herself.
“He has a cooled safe, specially built. He usually keeps it with us, but this time, he took it somewhere else,” Janine explained. She looked to her father with a questioning expression.
He nodded in agreement, before adding, “I don’t know why he brought me along. I thought it was to guard the things, but he up and moved them. He just told me to keep an eye out for suspicious people.”
“When the accident occurred, where were you?”
“I was supposed to be with everyone, going to dinner, but I stepped out.”
Brandon stopped and stared at the man. In a firm voice, he further questioned, “Where’d you go?”
Wexler rubbed the top of his head. He swallowed hard and looked to his daughter before sighing. “I was at a club with some guys.”
Hannah noticed Janine’s face went blank. She said nothing, but stared at Brandon. As the officer took his notes, she watched as he placed his hand over hers and squeezed. No response. She knows where he was, and she’s pissed.
A torrent of questions arose in Hannah’s mind, which evolved in rapid order. She assessed a set of possibilities. Janine explained her father’s gambling problem. The new information about the safe led Hannah to consider a new possibility. Whether Janine knew it was her father who threw her husband over the balcony, but was now protecting him. To her mind, it would account for her cool behavior of the man. Additionally, Wexler was large enough. If he attempted to take the safe, but got caught, the situation could have escalated. Great theory. No proof, she reminded herself. She filed it for later contemplation. Seeing a lull in the air, she interjected herself.
“You might check with the hotel front desk. They may have some means of storing them, or they may have made the arrangements for him.”
Janine made an uncomfortable face as she placed her hand on her belly. “I can tell you this. He was fussy with them. He always ranted about the black market and the fakes and such.”
Brandon recorded the information on his notepad. “I’m assuming you don’t know the amount he carried here, do you?”
Wexler shook his head. “I never asked. That’s between my daughter and her husband.” He turned to Janine and gave a weak smile.
“A bunch. That’s all I know,” Janine answered. Her eyes widened, and she uttered, “Oh.”
Gran reached over and took her hand. “Is everything okay, dear?”
Janine gave a meek smile. “One of them’s kicking,” she said.
Wexler’s eyes widened. “Twins?” he said, excitement evident in his voice.
“I just found out. I was waiting to tell Elias and you when we got back. It looks to be a boy and a girl.”
“Oh, some great grandparents are going to be happy soon.” Gran reached over and tapped Wexler on the leg. He gave a broad smile. Gran turned and eyed Hannah with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile. Hannah responded by rolling her eyes.
Brandon returned to the previous conversation. “Has your husband said anything specific of late? Maybe he mentioned something about people after him?”
“No, but he can be all secretive and stubborn,” Janine said.
“Sounds about right,” Hannah interjected. “I guess some things never change.”
Turning his gaze to Wexler, Brandon awaited a response.
“When he asked me to come along, he said there was a big market here for illegal foods. Truffles being one of the biggest.” Wexler frowned and said, “He didn’t trust local law enforcement.”
Brandon stiffened at Wexler’s words, but said nothing. There was a pause before Janine gasped again.
“Oh. They’re feisty tonight. Must be all the ruckus.”
“It does stir them up,” Gran chimed in. Nodding toward Hannah, she added, “She almost kicked her way out of her momma.”
Brandon frowned and gave a nervous smile. Closing his small notepad, he nodded, and reached in his pocket to produce a small business card. “If you remember anything else, call the station. Somebody is going to get assigned to this case and they’ll put you in touch with them.”
Brandon turned to leave, but stopped. “I hope your husband gets better, Ms. Babel.”
, He turned and exited the ER back in the direction from where they entered. She pondered the question she posed to herself earlier about his involvement. If he is, he’s a pawn, she determined. She shook her head to clear it and berated herself. Second person you have talked to about this, and already you have put him on the potential list. Get your head in the game, Hannah.
After Brandon disappeared from sight, Hannah took in a deep breath and held it for a second. She then let it out at a slow, deliberate pace. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, trying to go over everything she knew thus far once again.<
br />
When a doctor approached, everyone stood as he came before them.
“Ms. Babel?” the doctor asked, looking to Hannah first then to Janine.
“That’d be me,” Janine responded, raising her hand.
Glancing him over, Hannah noted the solemn look on his face. Late 40s/early 50s. Balding. Goatee, and mustache. Brownish gray. Fit. Medium height. Medium weight. Odd gait.
“I’m Dr. Tompkins. Mr. Babel’s headed to surgery. He suffered a pneumothorax injury, meaning a broken rib pierced and collapsed one of his lungs. They will assess the extent of damage in surgery. He broke the left arm, upper and lower, as well as a femur in his leg. I’m assuming he landed on that side.”
Hannah affirmed the doctor’s suspicions, describing the event scene as she saw it. When she finished, Dr. Tompkins said, “Well, as you can imagine, he also has a concussion. Now, what happened to him is horrific, but considering the height you reported he fell from, I’d say his surviving is a miracle.”
Placing her hand on her chest, Janine said, “Oh, I agree, one hundred percent.”
Wexler placed his arm around his daughter and pulled her tight, next to him. Protective, Hannah filed.
“He’s going to be in surgery for a while, so you might want to settle in. After he’s out, Dr. Ratliff will give you an update. He’s the surgeon handling your husband. From there, we’ll put him in recovery for a time. After that, we’ll move him to ICU. We’ll keep him sedated and bring him out slowly. He’s going to be in a world of hurt when that happens.” He stood still for a second, before asking, “I need to know if there were any issues going on with your husband that we should know about?”
Hannah watched Janine, who at first appeared as if she did not understand what the doctor said. Then her eyes widened. “Oh no, nothing like that. I mean, he did have a prescription for some anti-anxiety medication. Something called Trazodone,” she answered, “but he took it as it said on the bottle. Every day, right as rain. But he wouldn’t do that.” She pointed to her belly. “Not with this coming on,” she insisted.
“That’s just not Elias,” Wexler affirmed.
Dr. Tompkins produced an appeasing smile and said, “Of course. Are there any other medications we should know about?”
Hannah re-evaluated her considerations with this new information in hand. She ran through the possibilities. Was this a suicide attempt? Could Elias be so depressed that he opened his balcony window and made a running jump headlong over the railing? She did not care for the possibility, though she filed it as though it were any other consideration on the case.
Tompkins studied Janine and then Hannah before continuing. Then he added, “I’d also recommend both of you get some rest.” He smiled at Janine and said, “For obvious reasons.” When he turned to Hannah he said, “And, you’ve had an adrenaline spike because of this. That rush you experienced is starting to show. When it wears off, you’re going to crash. You’ll need to sleep it off.”
“Thank you so much,” Janine said, hugging the physician.
In an unusual move for her, Hannah found herself hugging this stranger as well.
“You’re both more than welcome,” he said.
After Tompkins exited, Hannah considered the situation for a moment. She could already feel the adrenaline working out of her system. He’s right, she admitted, I’m getting tired. She shook all over to rid herself of the feeling. Looking to her grandparents, she said, “I’m terrible at waiting.” She rose, stretched, and moved to look out the window. Gran rose, stepped up beside her granddaughter, and slipped an arm around to give her a hug.
“What are you thinking?”
“There’s something I need to check on.” She turned toward Gran. The elder held a slight look of anticipation. Hannah could tell the elder snoop smelled an investigation. It was a matter of time before she would be neck deep in it beside her granddaughter. Gran raised an eyebrow. “Back to their room?”
Hannah affirmed with a nod. “At some point. Whoever did this may have left a clue or two, but we need to keep her father and her out somehow until then. Everything should be fine for now. The police will be all over the place today, maybe even tomorrow. I just hope they don’t screw everything up.”
The elder Starvling frowned and pursed her lips. “Hmm. You think they’re incompetent?”
“No, but they’re just small town police. I doubt tourist suicide attempts are prevalent on their experience list. I’m thinking more like corrupt. Did you notice how interested Brandon was at the mention of diamonds?”
Gran nodded. “I did. Could be simple curiosity. Big case, bucking for a promotion. Excitement. Any number of things. But I see your point. What about Mr. Wexler. Gut instinct?”
Hannah glanced at the man’s reflection in the glass. “He seems nice enough, but he has a gambling problem. And Janine’s phone conversation didn’t seem to go well. To top it off, her reaction to him while Brandon questioned us was weird. I don’t know. Something’s off.” She frowned and twisted her mouth around. “You two should go get some dinner and then head back to the hotel. But be ready. I may have to get you to tail him at some point.”
Gran again glanced back with a grin. “Fine by me. Not like he doesn’t stand out in a crowd. What about you? Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
Hannah sighed as she indicated yes. She rubbed her eyes, Dr. Tompkins’ earlier words echoing through her head. “I’m staying, at least until I find out about Elias. They should know what to do at that point. If they’re staying or going. I’ll let you know either way. If they suggest going back to the hotel, I’ll insist they stay with us because of the room. That way, we can all keep eyes on Janine and Mr. Wexler.”
Once more, Gran looked back over her shoulder. She studied Janine, and Wexler, who talked with Papa Jay, before she turned back. “I doubt they’ll be going anywhere. She seems dedicated to Elias. Mr. Wexler seems protective of his daughter. I’ll bet you a cookie that they stay here tonight, together.”
“What do you want us to bring you back?”
“Anything… and that cookie.”
Gran grinned. “White Chocolate Macadamia. But just one.” She poked at her granddaughter’s side. “Got to watch your figure if this young man is going to show up.”
“Hymn,” Hannah said with a broad smile. “I pray he does.”
Chapter Five
Hannah made it back to the hotel just before midnight. Tired but in a good mood.The thought of the lengthy call to Hymn earlier made her glow as she opened the door to her room. The conversation left her encouraged he would be able to make the trip. When they finally hung up, she felt a mixture of emotions. Ending the call saddened her. Thinking of Hymn made her smile.
Once inside, Hannah’s stomach rumbled. The late night fare Gran and Papa Jay dropped off before they returned to the hotel, left her still feeling hungry. Glancing around, she found two small bags from a nearby coffee shop setting on her bed. Each had a yellow sticky note. One was from Gran, the other from Papa Jay. She opened Gran’s first, finding a single, white chocolate cookie. The note read, “For you dear. One cookie for obvious reasons. Love, Gran.” Hannah smiled as she bit into the treat, and her sea green eyes danced with delight at the taste. Opening the second bag, she found three more of the treats. Papa Jay’s note read, “Sweetness, don’t matter what’s on the outside, so long as what’s good is on the inside. Love, Papa Jay.”
“Love you,” she whispered to the air as she lay down.
Hannah’s intent was to finish off her cookies and get ready for bed. Instead, there was a knock on the door from her grandparent’s room. Her first thought was it was one of the two checking to see if she made it in. But again, after looking at the time, she found it to be approaching midnight. They would not interrupt her under normal circumstances. However, with Elias’ fall, normalcy is relative, she thought. She opened the door to see Papa Jay standing dressed. Gran was readying herself in the background. Fear crawled through Hannah’s gut.
“What’s wrong,” she asked in a desperate voice, “is Elias…”
“Fine as can be, I suppose.” Papa Jay twitched a little. “Now, Sweetness, don’t get upset, but your friend called.”
“Cate?”
“Boyfriend.”
“Hymn?”
“You got any others?” Papa Jay said in a sarcastic tone.
“Jayland Michael!” Gran interceded. “Now is not the time.” She came to the door. “Your man called. He’s on his way to the hospital.”
“Back home?”
“Here,” Papa Jay stated, “he hurt his leg.”
Hannah gave a confused look. Papa Jay frowned and scratched his chin.
“Well, seems he was gonna surprise you. Show up in the morning and take us all to breakfast that sort of thing.”
“It’s called being romantic,” Gran said with a huff. “You could learn a thing or two.”
Gran huffed, but Hannah encouraged her grandfather to continue with an urgent gesture.
“Anyway, he got here and fell at the baggage claim area and tore something loose. He’s on his way to the hospital by ambulance and should be there any minute.”
An expression of utter disbelief fell on Hannah. She blinked as her mouth fell agape. Gran reached up and popped Papa Jay on the back of the head.
“Ouch,” the elderly man said.
“You could have handled that better,” Gran responded.
“Not my fault she’s dating a walking disaster.”
“Why didn’t he call me?”
“He said he couldn’t get through, and he didn’t know how to tell you. Figured we would know how to break it to you better. Besides, he was hurting by the sound of it.”
The Billionaire Chef Page 4