Hannah’s curiosity peaked. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and crossed her arms. Hymn noticed the intense focus but said nothing to her. Instead, he responded to Whipson.
“Anything. Name it.”
“You did good investigative work in Zebulon,” the Reverend then peered at Hannah, “and Hymn mentioned that you were a talented investigator.”
Hymn gave his bride-to-be a proud smile. “The best I’ve ever met.” He lifted her hand to kiss it. She returned his grin before addressing the Reverend.
“Well, you can’t believe him. I’ve got him under my thumb.”
Whipson laughed. He suppressed a cough before the expression on his face became serious. “There’s something I’d like you to look into.”
“Pawpaw, she’s getting married.”
Hannah and Hymn looked up to see Susan carrying a holder with four drinks. Beside her stood a man wearing a similar physician’s coat. Calvin York, she inferred. 5’10” to 5’11”. Mid to late thirties or early forties. Short brown hair. Hazel-brown eyes. Medium build. Angled face with thin nose.
“I know, dear. I’m marrying them,” Whipson informed.
Calvin set down his drink and gave Hymn a hug before offering a hand to Hannah. Shaking it, she added to her profile. Solid, poised handshake. Steady eye contact. Focused and confident.
The reverend turned back to Hannah. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Calvin shook his head as he sat. He turned his attention to Hannah and Hymn. “It’s coincidence, that’s all.”
Hannah listened, intrigued. “What’s a coincidence?” she asked.
Hymn looked over at Hannah with a quizzical expression. She maintained focus on Calvin. Seeing Hymn’s reaction, Calvin sat back before answering. “Well, there’s been some deaths. Jonathan, here, seems to think they’re suspicious.”
“Are they?” Hannah asked, staring straight at the man. He moved in an uncomfortable manner.
“I admit there are some odd things about it all, but Happiness is an advanced senior living facility. Death is just part of it.”
Whipson coughed hard and broke the tension. After clearing his throat, he waved a finger in the young doctor’s direction. “Seven deaths to be accurate. Not random at all. Every one of them died when they shouldn’t have.”
Calvin again shook his head. “Not true. All were terminal.”
“Yes, but they died before they should have, and under strange circumstances.”
“What do you mean?” Hymn interjected.
Susan moved in her chair and her eyes darted from her husband to her grandfather. “It’s nothing specific,” she interceded, “just as Calvin mentioned, just some odd occurrences.”
Everyone’s attention shifted to the woman, so she continued in a halting voice. “Like, for instance, we had one patient who came complaining of an ongoing headache. We put her in a room to run some tests. She was alone for maybe ten minutes, monitored. During that time, she died.”
“Of a heart attack?” Hannah inquired.
Calvin crossed his arms. “No, cardiac arrest. There’s a difference. Regardless, it’s sad, but reality. Truth is, it happens all the time. Not surprising given the average age of our residents.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed. Her nose wiggled back and forth. This particular affectation always showed her intrigue. Focusing on the doctors, she shifted her eyes to Calvin. His face held an intense frown. Uncomfortable with the questions, she noted.
Calvin threw his hands outward as if to dismiss the notions of his wife. “She was eighty three, guys.”
“In otherwise good health,” Whipson insisted.
“She was not otherwise in good health. She had advanced liver disease.”
“But that’s not what killed her.” Whipson’s voice raised in intensity.
Calvin pushed back against his chair and crossed his arms. “She went into cardiac arrest, Jonathan. Her heart stopped. There was no bogeyman. No Grim Reaper lurking around.”
“Right after you admitted her and checked her out. You said she was fine.”
Whipson began coughing. Susan placed her hand on her grandfather’s back. “It just seemed sudden, Pawpaw. I know she was a friend, but these things do happen.”
After a moment, the Reverend again ceased. He cleared his throat while shaking his head. “And Mr. Bunn? Watterson? The others?”
“Over what period?” Hannah asked.
Calvin reached out and took a drink from his cup. “Over an eighteen-month period.”
Hannah said nothing while listening to the conversation and observing. She concluded that Calvin’s insistent dismissal belied a nervousness. Skeptical, but something about it unnerves him.
For Susan, Hannah noted the woman struggled with allegiance. She remained supportive of her husband, but attempted to keep her grandfather from harm. Loyal, she added to her profile of the woman.
Reverend Whipson drew the most of Hannah’s attention. She applied Calvin’s attitude to his being a physician. Susan’s to being a wife and granddaughter. Nevertheless, Whipson’s insistence that something was afoot intrigued her. Few people would draw a connection between seven deaths over an eighteen-month period, she thought. What made him look in the first place?
Hymn scratched under his chin. “Eighteen months. Older people. Heart issues. It doesn’t sound that unusual, sir, and then you add in they were in the hospital…”
Calvin smiled and pointed at Hymn. He bobbed his head once in approval of the man’s agreement with him.
Whipson started to reply, but a cry for help interrupted him. Everyone except Whipson rose. Hannah saw someone moving behind the reception desk. They appeared bent over. From the side, she made out a pair of feet. On the floor. Pepper? She heard someone call for a doctor as Calvin and Susan both bolted toward them. Hannah followed after. Hymn remained with Whipson.
When Hannah reached the desk, both Calvin and Susan were kneeling beside the woman. Pepper lay unconscious, her eyes turned up to the point where only the whites showed. As far as Hannah could tell, she was not breathing. After a quick check for a pulse, Calvin began CPR. Susan grabbed the house phone. Overhead, the speaker system announced her words. “Code Blue. Reception. Crash cart stat.”
Some fifty-five minutes later, Hannah saw Calvin and Susan walking down the hall toward the reception area. Both looked tired and moved at a slow pace. An older gentleman now sat where Pepper had before. The two doctors stopped to speak with him. Hannah could tell by their body language the news was upsetting. The man nodded before wiping his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. He cleared his throat and covered his mouth. Susan walked around and gave him a hug. Calvin looked toward Hannah, Hymn, and Whipson. He produced a sad, weak, hurting, half-hearted smile.
Didn’t make it, Hannah said to herself.
Whipson, who had risen upon seeing his granddaughter and grandson-in-law, sat back. He turned his eyes to Hymn and Hannah. “Eight,” he said with a sad, but stern tone.
Hannah sat beside him. She took the man’s hand and looked straight to his eyes. “Tell me about the others.”
Hannah agreed to look into the deaths for Reverend Whipson. The man seemed relieved to have Hymn and her investigating. There was more to the deaths for the clergyman. It went beyond just the passing of friends, acquaintances, or even people he counselled. He feels responsible somehow, Hannah concluded.
Later that night over dinner, in the presence of the Yorks, he gave the couples his marital low down as he referred to it. He went over everything they needed and all that he required to perform the ceremony. When he excused himself from the table for a moment after a bit of coughing, Hannah turned to the Yorks.
“He didn’t eat dessert, though he wanted too. Has indigestion. Yellow eyes. Same tint to the skin. He’s weak. How bad off is he?”
Tears welled in Susan’s eyes as she dropped her head and laid it on her husband’s shoulder. Calvin leaned over and kissed the top of her head b
efore looking back toward the two answering. “Bad. The coughing is dyspnea caused by lymphangitis carcinomatous, inflammation of the lungs linings. He has pancreatic cancer. We found out when we tested him for diabetes two months ago.”
Hannah glanced over at Hymn. The corners of his mouth tightened as he drew his hand up to cover the lower part of his face. “I didn’t know,” he said.
“Almost no one does,” Calvin said. “You know the Reverend. A great man, but he is stubborn. Tells everyone he’s spitting up evil, and then he laughs it off.”
“How long?” Hymn asked.
Calvin shrugged. “That’s always a tricky question. It’s not like in the movies. Two months. A year. Never works that way.” He looked down at his wife and pulled her close. “His oncologist said no more than six months. It’s not my area, but I’d have to agree.”
Hymn acknowledged with a slow gesture of the head. Hannah reached over, took his hand and squeezed. She could see the pain in her love’s eyes, and it ripped at her soul.
Hymn ran his hand through his short, close-cropped dark hair. “We shouldn’t have asked him. We can get someone else.”
“No,” Susan interjected in an adamant tone. She sat up and looked at the couple. “He wants to do it. You grew up around us. In his church. You’re like family. Yours will be his last. Don’t take that away, please.”
Both Hannah and Hymn agreed.
Chapter Two
It was 8:30 AM. Cate Jordan, Hannah’s best friend sat across from the amateur sleuth, sipping on herbal tea. The two met for their standing Thursday morning breakfast date at Jesse Belle’s. The place was a small coffee and pastry shop in Twilight’s renovated wharf district.
“So, it’s a Presbyterian hospital?”
Hannah gestured no. “Non-denominational as I understand it. His position is voluntary. There’s another clergyman on staff but I didn’t meet him. Whoever he is, the Reverend mentioned him as being of a different sect.”
“Interesting. Anyway, you said eight? Hmm. Over eighteen months? Doesn’t seem too much of a stretch,” Cate said, blowing on her tea. “Not given the age within the community.”
“That’s what Hymn said,” Hannah responded as she examined her cheese Danish. “I don’t know. Reverend Whipson seems so adamant. I kind of feel for him, you know?”
“Weren’t a lot of these people his parishioners?”
Hannah affirmed. “And friends.”
“Well, of course I’ll be glad to look up the obituaries, but I’m not promising anything. I doubt there’ll be a lot more. It seems like a place for the rich, but not the rich and famous. Ergo, not that much write up if there’s no suspicion.”
“I figured as much, but I’m hoping you’ll find a connection that ties them all together, other than the Reverend.”
Cate scratched the side of her head through her dark curls. She took a sip of the tea and twisted her lip. “I’ll get into what financials I can. Family history and such. It’ll take me a day or two.”
Hannah smiled. Not only did she know she could rely on her best friend, she also knew Cate would deliver no later than the next day. Her librarian and friend displayed a knack for computers, as well as investigation, and beyond that, was her dogged determination. Hannah also knew Cate tended to overstate how long a project would take. When Hannah called her on this fact once, her friend just smiled. “How do you think I got my stellar reputation?” she said.
“Thank you, as always. Hymn’ll appreciate it too. He’s close to the Reverend. You’ll like the man yourself. Who knows, maybe he’ll take care of Al and you at the same time.”
“Oh, hush, you. He hasn’t even asked. Not so much as hinted.” Cate stared at her friend. “Has he said something to you?”
“Like I’d tell.”
“You would, in a heartbeat.”
“You’re right,” Hannah confessed. “I would.”
Both women laughed.
“Well, anyway. Hymn and I are off to the station in just a bit. His sister, Magdalen, is taking the train in. She’s taking time off from work and is going to stay with us until the wedding. Gives us time to get to know each other some. Then we’re going down to Zebulon again this weekend for a few days. Hymn wants me to get to know his remaining family, just in case I want to bail, which brings me to something else. Would you mind if Magdalen came along for the fitting? I thought it might make things easier.”
“Of course not. Bring her along. I look forward to meeting her. Vera will be here day after tomorrow in the morning, but she has to fly right back out for a meeting. Buster should be here in just a bit.” Cate took another sip of tea and gave a pensive look. “Are you going through with that color scheme?”
Again, Hannah shrugged. “It was Mom’s idea, and given me, well, it kind of fits in some weird, quirky, cosmic way. And Hymn… kind of liked it after he saw the sketches, so---”
“Kind of? What about you? This is your wedding, girl. Everything should be perfect for you. There’s still time. Let me make some calls. We’ll get this fixed.”
Hannah smiled as she reached out and took hold of Cate’s hand. “As long as he makes it, and you, Buster, and the rest of my family are there, then it will be. You’ve always been there for me. Love you, girlfriend.”
“Love you too. I’d have to be, to wear that combination at a wedding.”
“Oh, come on. Vera, Buster, and you, are going to be the most awesome bridesmaids ever.”
“Different, if nothing else. You were never the traditional type girl, anyway.”
There was a pause in the conversation before Cate led it back around to the topic at hand.
“Anyway, getting back to it. I’ll be looking of course, but just in case, we might want to see who was on staff at the time of these deaths. Will you be going back anytime soon?”
Hannah noted Cate used the phrase ‘we might want to’. It made the sleuth smile again. Hooked, she thought, noting hence forth, her friend would also be her fellow investigator on the case. “I’m sure we will. We need to make some final arrangements with the Reverend. We may just sneak over on the way back if I can talk Hymn into it.”
“If you do, you might be able to get to the records easier and faster. They store most via electronic database these days as you well know. There are going to be protocols to get through as always.”
Hannah’s mind rolled back to a previous case, where she and Cate accessed a hospital’s records. However, that instance would be far different from the present situation. To begin with, that case took place in Zebulon, a small town setting. Security breaches were not of a great concern there. The medical center in Happiness would be a matter all unto itself. Hannah recalled Hymn’s words about Happiness in general. Privacy is at a premium. She had no doubts that level of security extended to the medical facilities records as well. “You don’t think you can get to them online then?”
Cate shook her head. “I’d imagine not. You’re going to have to find a different way in. It’s just my opinion, but if there is something to this, knowing who was present and had access to the victims, would be the place to start.”
Hannah frowned but agreed. “You’re thinking Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome?”
“I think that’s what it’s called. I’ve read about it. The perpetrator induces medical emergencies to get the rush. Then they attempt to save the life of their victim to get the glory.”
Hannah grimaced at the thought. “Sick.”
“Without a doubt, but if this is more than it appears to be, it’s a reasonable consideration. It makes for the perfect environment if you think about it. If someone is doing this for attention, then they have the perfect victims. Seniors die every day. No one asks why. It’s just expected, but if they manage to save them, they get the accolades. ,”
Finishing off her Danish, Hannah wiggled her nose. “They get the rush either way, and they could hide within the system.” Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she waved it in Cate’s direction. “You might have al
ready busted the case.”
Cate laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice for once? It’s never that easy, girl. You know that.”
“It’s a thought, and you’re right. It’s one worth looking into.”
Hannah downed the last of her coffee. She rolled her tongue around the inside of her mouth once. Cate caught onto Hannah’s quirk of thought. One of the tics that she gave away when the sleuth fell into focused contemplation.
“What’s skipping through that genius of yours?”
“Well, I only see one problem with that scenario. Calvin and Susan were the ones who responded to the last victim.”
Cate glared at her friend. Hannah’s eyes widened.
“I don’t---”
“Know them,” Cate finished. “You don’t know them, at all.”
“Hymn does. He grew up with them.”
Cate responded with a blank look. She crossed her arms and uttered a single name, “Conny.”
Hannah’s mouth fell open. She tried to speak but words did not come. Her mind raced back to the first real murder case she was ever involved with. Both Cate and she worked it while attending Serling University in Twilight. Their roommate, Ione Sykes, disappeared one day without a trace. Over the course of two weeks, they found that one Conny Miller killed, dismembered, and buried Ione. However, Miller was not just another murderer. He was a friend from their neighborhood. He sometimes played with Buster, Cate, and her as children. In effect, they grew up together. What they did not know was over time, he evolved into a serial killer, amassing at least seven victims. The gruesome nature of the case is what led to Hannah’s final resolve to join the FBI. Now, Cate grounded her with one undeniable fact. Just because you grew up near someone did not equate with knowing them. Knowing them came at a different level of trust and understanding.
Again, the two sat for a moment.
“Look, I hope it’s nothing, but you’ve said it a thousand times. Everyone with potential gets equal consideration. Like it or not, you can’t dismiss them just because you are in love with their friend.”
Hannah agreed with a slow bob of the head. “I think I’d hate it more for the Reverend if that were the case. To leave knowing that…” Her words trailed off, and she swallowed hard.
The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore Page 2