The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore

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The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore Page 1

by Kee Patterbee




  The Priest Who At A Poison Petit Four

  Hannah Starvling Cozy Romantic Mysteries Series

  Kee Patterbee

  Twice by Lightening

  Copyright © 2018 by Kee Patterbee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Kee Patterbee

  Foreword

  You can write me at mailto:[email protected] or visit me on the web at http://www.keepatterbee.com.

  I have a Patterbee Readers Group on Facebook should you want to join. Look at the website for FACEBOOK GROUP to get access to that.

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  If you just want updates only, UPDATES is where you want to plug in. Click the picture above to go straight to the update news page.

  Prologue

  Two months later, on a local news segment.

  “… It was a most unusual camera. Back to you, Charles.”

  (Cut to Charles Diedridge behind the news desk.)

  “Indeed, it was, Paula. We catch up now with a couple of heroes who have become something of a local sensation. Their story has been going around the internet, and has inspired many not to sit down and take it, when faced with a large task. Instead, you should approach it with everything you have. It doesn’t matter your size. It’s your attitude. Luther Dingle has the story.”

  (Shot of Dingle standing with a microphone.)

  “That’s right, Charles. The story is about loyalty, feistiness, and big, big attitude.”

  (Cut to a small Yorkshire terrier and another, small white and tan dog playing in the grass together.)

  “Gigantor and Hazelnut. Two hound friends with a nose for trouble and a sense of protection. Several months back, these two took down the alleged murderer in the case of the Poisoned Petit Fours. Despite their size, they intervened to bring about justice.”

  (Shot of dogs sniffing at the camera. Hazelnut licks the lens. Cut to Interviewee. Screen reads, Sindee Starvling-Gigantor’s Owner.)

  “Oh, yes, we were there. Gigantor there, is ours.”

  (Cut to Yorkshire terrier.)

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Hazelnut belongs to my granddaughter, Hannah, and her husband, Hymn.”

  (Cut to small, mixed breed dog.)

  “How did these two become involved in a murder case?”

  (Cut to interviewee)

  “Oh, we were helping Hannah. One of the involved parties asked her to look into the murder case. She’s a bit of an investigator. She gets it from me. I used to dabble when I was young.”

  “As the Gumshoe Gal.”

  “Oh, I haven’t gone by that in years. My granddaughter was with the FBI before she became a culinary consultant. Now they call her the Culinary Detective. She asked me to help on the case and we happened to have these two with us. When the perp ran…”

  (Shot of dogs running. Cut back to interview.)

  “The alleged murderer.”

  “That’s what I said. It’s detective lingo, honey. Well, the ALLEGED MURDERER attempted to get away and knocked my husband down. Jayland, over there.”

  (Cut to older man in his late 70s standing nearby with the dogs. His arms are crossed and he frowns. Screen reads, Jayland Starvling-Gigantor’s Owner. Cut back to interview.)

  “He was walking them. He let go, and the dogs went after the perp and barked and nipped until their leashes became tangled beneath and down they went. It gave my granddaughter enough time to take control of the situation until the local authorities arrived.”

  (Cut to the dogs barking.)

  “Quite the attitude for such small creatures.”

  “Oh, most assured. They may weigh less than ten pounds, but they think they weigh one hundred and fifty.”

  (Shot of interviewee holding dogs. Cut to dogs getting a medal from mayor of Happiness.)

  “Happiness, a senior living community, was so grateful for their assistance that they were named honorary citizens of the community. They were also given special dispensation since you have to be 55 years old or older to reside there. Otherwise, it would be a little over seven doggy years before they were legal.”

  (Cut to seniors petting the dogs, who accept the attention with enthusiasm. Back to interview.)

  “So what’s next for these canine heroes?”

  “Treats. Love. A children’s book, a commercial, and an animated short, but for the most part, just some yard time.”

  “And maybe some more investigational interference in the future?”

  “Oh, you never know. As Sherlock Holmes said, ‘The game’s afoot’.”

  (Cut to Dingle holding Hazelnut. Dog licks his face as he laughs.)

  “Indeed, or in this case, a paw. From Twilight and Happiness. Back to you, Charles.”

  Chapter One

  “Twice on Sunday and every Wednesday night,” stated Hymnal “Hymn” Miles in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Hannah Starvling finished off the last of a petite four before looking over to her fiancé. “Your mom was religious?”

  “As if Magdalen and my name didn’t give that away.”

  Magdalen, Hannah thought. She had yet to meet Hymn’s younger sister, the thirty one-year-old nurse living in Chicago. So many people in his life I have yet to meet. She studied his face for a moment. Grinning, she revealed in the fact that in a scant few weeks she would marry the man. I’ve been looking for you forever, Sweet Face, rolled through her mind. Hannah leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing him to smile.

  Hymn turned his black ‘70 Mustang onto the ramp leading from the interstate. At the top, he turned to the right and headed down the road.

  “When are you going to let me drive Baby?” Hannah said. In her mind, she wondered why men had the propensity to name their vehicles.

  “I restored this myself, you know,” Hymn 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 versa. Does that mean I get to play with your things?”

  Hannah winked at Hymn. “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,” Hymn insisted. “Housing. Golf course. They even have their own, small medi
cal 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 after the Greek underworld. Someone didn’t think that through.”

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

  Hannah held up the empty box for Hymn 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 Hymn’s conversation turned to this particular request.

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

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

  Reaching the entrance of the gated community, Hymn pulled into the guard station. Hannah watched as a man 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.” Hymn 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 Segway’s crossed in front of the car. An older woman turned to look at Hannah and Hymn, giving a smile and short wave before proceeding on. Hannah returned the same.

  “Jayland and Sindee should move here,” Hymn 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 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, Hymn 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 structure. A smaller building bordered it on the south. Several smaller offices 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 Hymn a one-eyed squint with a twisted mouth kind of look. “You saying you don’t want to marry me now, mister?”

  Hymn 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 Hymn’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 Hymn and Hannah 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 Hymn’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 Hymn’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.

  “Hymn,” a voice called. Hymn and Hannah turned to see a man moving in their direction. With him was a young woman who steadied his arm. As they moved 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 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 discoloured 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 Hymn with a broad grin. She threw her arms outward. To Hannah’s rare surprise, Hymn 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. Hymn 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 t
o 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 she would be right back. With that, the doctor headed toward a hall with a sign indicating the way to the cafeteria.

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

  Whipson looked first to Hymn, 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, Hymn, if possible,” looking to Hannah, he added, “and as a boon from you, young lady.”

 

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