“What pattern?” Will again questioned.
“Older with a terminal disease.”
Hymn reached out and took his drink of iced tea. Hannah noticed the pensive look as he swirled the glass in his hand. “We don’t know that yet. He may have been terminal as well.”
Hannah agreed, though with some reluctance. “Well, an autopsy report would tell, but we don’t have a way to get hold of that either.”
“No real reason to ask for it on a legal basis,” Hymn added. He reached out, took the last remaining bite of the white cheddar biscuit from his plate, and held it up. “These are awesome,” he said before holding it down for Hazelnut to eat. The puppy made its way over to take the offering before sitting down in front of him.
“That’s cheating. You’re going to spoil her right off,” Hannah protested.
Hymn shrugged as he petted the hound’s head.
“They may not even perform one,” Magdalen informed in an attempt to redirect the conversation back to the matter at hand. “If it seems legitimate and by natural causes, then there’s no reason to go to the effort.” Magdalen turned to her brother. “Where will they take him?”
Hymn gave an uncertain shrug. “Carol County Morgue would be my guess. If they do one, I doubt it’ll happen at Happiness Medical.”
Hannah glanced over to Magdalen. “Did he strike you as ill in any way?”
Magdalen shook her head. “I wasn’t paying that much attention, but from what I remember, no. He was a bit on the hefty side. Given he had a heart attack or went into cardiac arrest, it’s possible no one would question either, due to his size.”
“Maybe he did just have a heart attack,” Will suggested. He too dropped his hand beneath the table to feed the accommodating dog.
Hannah bobbed her head in half agreement. “Cardiac arrest and heart attack are two different things I am told. Still, I suppose it’s possible, but it does seem strange to be coincidental. I mean, he’s the Reverend’s assistant. The Reverend just asked us to look into the case. Then the assistant dies of the same thing that the Reverend asked us to look into.”
Will rose from the table and picked up an empty plate that had held fried green tomatoes with a tangy barbeque dipping sauce. He moved off toward the kitchen, speaking as he proceeded. Hazelnut rose from her spot in front of Hymn and padded alongside Will.
“Sounds fishy when you put it that way. So what are you thinking? He found something out and whoever is behind all this did him in?”
“That would be one possibility,” Hannah called after. “You need help in there?”
“Nah, we got it,” the restaurateur answered. “Thanks anyway.”
The large man returned carrying another plate. This time filled with miniature sandwiches made of pork and cheddar on toasted rolls. He had just enough time to set the dish down before hands began to pull the items away. Hazelnut watched, tail wagging. Taking one up himself, Will settled his 6’4” dark skinned frame back into his seat. He slid the remaining one on the plate over to Hannah.
“You might as well get in on the spoiling.”
“Oh, like she hasn’t already given her bits of that bacon puff earlier,” Will informed. “Yeah, little Miss Cheater. I was watching.”
Hannah cocked her head and produced her best, most charming smirk. Everyone laughed. She then took the offered food and gave it to the dog. The puppy gulped it down with zeal. “She’s so thin that it’s hard not to give in.” She scratched at the dog’s face. “It’s hard to imagine someone just abandoning her.”
“Eating like this, she’s not going to be thin for long,” Magdalen informed. “And she might have just run away or gotten lost.”
Will looked between Hannah and Hymn and pointed. “This might just be a confession. Have you considered that?”
Hymn leaned back as he bit into the small snack and smiled. “How so?” He held up the sandwich with one hand and pointed to it with the other. “Oh yeah, these for sure; lots of these.” He glanced down at Hazelnut, who seeing him holding the food, made her way over. “Not this time, sweetheart. Sit.”
To everyone’s surprise, the puppy did as instructed.
“Well, I’ll be,” Hymn said. “She belonged to someone.”
Will grinned before returning once again to the topic. “You know, a suicide because he figured he was about to get caught. You said he was a nurse, right?”
Hannah agreed with a nod of her head. She listened as Will explained his theory.
“Think on this. This Wessel is killing off people one at a time. Hiding within the assumption that the elder die of heart issues all the time. He’s a nurse, so he can make it happen. Then the Reverend catches on. Not at first, but in time. He calls you two in to investigate. You meet Wessel. He thinks you are closing in. He chooses his own exit. The logical choice to accomplish that would be to use a means he already had access to.”
Murder-suicide, Hannah considered. Possible, but probable? She bit into her sandwich and chewed. “Is there anything here that tastes bad? Yeah. These too.”
Magdalen stared at her plate with a pensive look. “Well, if that’s true, and it happened like that, then it will clear itself up. With Wessel dead, the deaths will stop, right?”
“There’s just one problem with that,” Hymn informed. “If we’re wrong, then someone else will have to die to find out for sure.” He finished off his last bite. “I, for one, can’t have that lingering on my conscious.”
“Me either,” Magdalen admitted.
Hannah settled back into her chair. She reached down and called the puppy over. Once there, she picked the dog up, allowing her to lick the tips of her fingers. “Then we’ll just have to keep looking until we know for sure.” She looked over to Will. “What’s next, baker man?”
“Mudbug gumbo,” Will said with a grin glowing against his grey-black beard as he rose up. “Then a little shot of Hoo Tu Voodoo.”
Hannah gave Hymn a questioning look.
“Mudbug is another word for crawdads as you well know. The Voodoo, now that’s homemade hooch. When it comes to the stuff, Zebulon has always kept to a don’t ask, don’t tell kind of policy. Hoo Tu here makes some of the best around.”
“But I wouldn’t down more than a thimble full. Unless, of course, you enjoy comas,” Magdalen added with a wink.
“Oh,” Hannah expressed. She glanced over to Hymn, who returned a smile.
“I think we’ll pass on the Voodoo, but we will take you up on the gumbo, right after I wash my hands again. You are such a cute puppy.”
Chapter Eight
The following day, Hannah, Hymn and Magdalen along with the new puppy, made their way to the vet. The visit revealed Hazelnut had fallen victim to an attack by a larger animal, which removed her tail. It had happened many weeks before as it was nearly healed at the nub. She was underweight but otherwise in good shape. Dr. Kanamit also determined she belonged to someone at some point. “She appears house trained and responsive to standard commands. Sit and speak. That sort of thing.”
However, not being micro chipped, there was no way of determining who her original owners were. She also had been on her own for some time and was around two and a half months old. The news of not knowing the owners settled the matter of what to do with the pooch. She became the couple’s new dog.
After the visit, all went to spend the afternoon with Hymn and Magdalen’s relatives so she could get to know her new relatives. While finding them all pleasant to some degree, Hannah tried to keep her mind on the task and put the case aside for the day. However, she found this difficult. Her mind kept returning to the on-going events and feeling some guilt. Every moment that she spent away from the investigation made her wonder how soon another victim would turn up. Between meeting the family, Hannah did manage to befriend the various and more odd members of her future relatives. In particular, there was Hymn’s great uncle, Nym, whose stock in trade was conspiracy theories. Upon meeting him, she made her usual quick and immediate assessment. Frail and thin
. Late 70s or early 80s. 5’8” to 5’9”. Bald with white on the sides. Bushy eyebrows. Mustache and beard, all white. Intense blue eyes. Under bite. Thick, black rimmed glasses. Haunch. He, among all those present at the ‘get to know Hannah’ cookout, was the one who picked up on her distraction. He listened with great care as he held Hazelnut while Hannah explained herself. When done, the frail, older man removed his WWII Army veteran’s ball cap. He rubbed the top of his head.
“Well, he may be dying, and all that, but have you ever considered the Reverend?”
Hannah paused for a moment, producing her particular quirk. Nym’s words rang true. I haven’t, she admitted to herself. She gave the elder man a considered look.
“Why would he ask us to look into this then?”
Nym shrugged. “Just a theory, but murder is a strange mistress. Think on it for a moment. I know that man.” He waved his cane out toward the present guests. “Before he retired, pretty much everyone here attended under him. He’s a near perfect embodiment of earthbound Godliness. Nary a flaw to speak of. Never raised his voice. Always found the good in everything. Always doing the honorable thing. The right thing.” He paused as he drew his eyes down toward the dog. He then pointed a shaky, wrinkled finger in Hannah’s direction. “The sayings true, you know. If something’s too good to be true, you can pretty much bet it is.” He pushed on his cane as he leaned back in his chair after handing Hazelnut back to Hannah. “From what you told me, I’d bet my bottom dollar he’s not telling all.”
For the rest of the afternoon, the conversation with Nym set Hannah’s mind on a singular thought. Could Jonathan be behind this? While she found it questionable, she repeatedly returned to the notion of thorough vetting for all. Whipson had come to them to check into the deaths. He alone had caught onto their occurrence, and he was dying. To her mind, there was no practical reason to consider the man. The biggest issue was motivation. Why would a man ask me to look into a crime he was committing? Then Hannah found a possibility. “Why would he, girl?” she asked, peering into the dog’s face. She did not expect an answer, but got one all the same.
“Woof.”
“Yeah, I know, it is crazy, right?”
Later, standing next to Hymn, Hannah listened to one of his cousins talk. The woman referred to one of the many children in attendance. “That boys not right in the head,” the woman said in a joking manner. Hannah smiled, though her mind went in another direction. Not right in the head, echoed in her mind. What if Whipson is suffering from delusions? What if he’s doing the deed but is unaware? What if he’s asking for help is instead a cry for help? She thought through various scenarios. At the conclusion of each, she found herself somewhat disturbed. The Reverend had access to each victim. He had intimate knowledge of their diseases and fate. More troubling was again, the consideration of the fact that he was the only one who seemed to have made the connection across time.
“You alright?” Hymn inquired, breaking Hannah’s tightly drawn face.
“I’m not sure,” Hannah responded. “Just had a bad series of thoughts is all.”
“Let’s sit down.”
The couple found two lawn chairs and sat. Hymn took control of the leash and gave Hannah a concerned expression. “So, you came up with something?”
Hannah turned her eyes to Hymn and frowned. Opening her mouth, she started to speak, but words did not come at first. Hymn waited until she was ready.
“You know, it sounds kind of crazy, but your uncle got me to thinking.”
Hymn looked toward where Nym sat. “Yeah, you’ve been lost in thought ever since talking to him. I figured he sent that brain of yours spinning. So, what’s his theory? I know he has one.”
Hannah gave a slow nod before answering. “He asked if we had given any consideration to maybe it was Jonathan himself.”
Hymn straightened up as he pushed his lips forward.
“I don’t see how that’s possible, and not just because I admire the man. He brought the deaths to our attention.”
“I agree, but then I thought about it. I haven’t given him any consideration, but then it hit me. What if he’s had some kind of break from reality and is delusional? What if he saw his parishioners passing away, and he felt it better to help them along? Like we thought of Calvin, but it was Jonathan instead?”
“That still doesn’t explain why he would bring it to our attention.”
Hannah reached over and clutched Hymn’s hand. “Because, if he did have a break, a real disconnect from reality, he might be struggling with it on a mental level. This might be his way of dealing with it. Saying, ‘Here I am. Stop me, please’.”
From his reaction, Hannah could tell the notion disturbed Hymn. He swallowed hard and rocked his jaw back and forth. A hard grimace overtook his face. By his reaction, the revelation of Whipson’s past and the potential she presented him left only uncertainty in the man. His face twisted a bit before he scrutinized Hannah. He ran his hand through his hair, stopping on top to clutch a patch before letting it go.
“Calvin’s paper, the one about self-determined euthanasia, came about because of conversations with him.” Hymn again swallowed hard before continuing. “He watched so many people die over the years, including his wife.” Hymn’s voice softened, “and my mother. Counseling has always been a big part of his ministry work.”
Hannah listened, but she did not interrupt. She took in every word Hymn said and tried to find a way to apply it to the present information.
“Every one of them, he took hard, as if it were a personal assault.” He peered down into his hands as if he would find an answer lying in his palms. “I don’t know much about psychology. I did minor in it in college, but it was all general information. I do remember something from an abnormal psych class that said in certain circumstances, people break at unexpected times over strange things. Often it is even unrelated events. Then they link all sorts of things together. I do remember that much.” He looked back up to the sleuth. “Given that, I’d have to admit it’s a consideration.”
Producing her quirk, Hannah ran through all she knew of the Reverend. The woman’s death that he took responsibility for. The radical life change that event caused. His ministerial work and later as end-of-life counselor, and last, his own diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.
“He’s a clever man, wouldn’t you say?”
Hymn agreed.
“Over the years, he’s seen a lot of terminal illnesses. Each one has signs, symptoms. What if he learned to read them?”
A questioning expression ran Hymn’s face, so she continued explaining.
“They found out that he was dying four months ago. What if he suspected long before?”
“He’d have to know well before then. I thought it spread fast.”
“It does as far as I know, but there are exceptions to every case. What if it was what made him snap?”
“Not likely,” Magdalen interrupted.
Hannah and Hymn turned to see the nurse standing behind. She grabbed a chair, pulled it in front of them and sat. Doing so, she picked up Hazelnut and sat her in her lap.
“Sorry, I caught the last part, but that cancer kills because it’s hard to diagnose. By the time it’s found, it’s in the late stages.” She paused before adding, “But Mary died right around the time this all started. Do people like that start acting on their impulse as soon as something sets them off?”
His wife’s death, Hannah considered. Possible. “How’d she die?”
Hymn and Magdalen gave each other a knowing look, but it was the latter who answered.
“ALS. Lou Gehrig’s disease.”
Hymn bobbed his head. “It took three long years. She spun down from a healthy, happy woman, to a fragment of herself.”
“In other words, she suffered,” Hannah suggested.
Both brother and sister agreed. Hannah noticed Magdalen tapping a finger on Hazelnut’s back as a contemplative expression came to the woman’s face.
“She begged
us to end her life,” Magdalen admitted. “Time and time again.” She paused and drew in a long, deep breath.
Watching his sister, Hymn’s eyes narrowed.
“You thought about it, didn’t you?”
Magdalen affirmed with a bob of the head. Her eyes wetted as she bit at her lips. She let her eyes fall between her brother and the sleuth. “I think that’s why this is all so hard. I get it. Until you work with it, day in and day out, like I do… like the Reverend does, it’s hard to understand. So much suffering and they hurt so much. Beg. Plead.” She turned her eyes toward Hazelnut and swallowed. “We watched Mom go through the same thing. That’s why I work on the cancer ward.” She paused before continuing. “I don’t know. The edge of the cliff… that moment when you say, ‘Yeah, I can help with that.’ It’s something that you face every day at the hospital. Between his past, his present condition, medications…” She turned and peered at Hannah with burning intensity. “Look at him. Look close.”
“Will do,” Hannah confirmed.
“Woof,” Hazelnut issued in a sudden distraction that lightened the mood.
“Good girl,” Hannah said. “Woof indeed.”
Chapter Nine
After another night spent with Will, Hannah, Hymn, and Magdalen headed back to Twilight with Hazelnut in tow. The future husband and wife needed to make final preparations for their wedding. While in their apartment, on two occasions Hannah’s phone rang. She held her breath in dread when seeing the number was either Calvin or Susan. Her fear was that during the lapse time, another death would occur. To her relief, neither call involved the end of someone’s life. One was the Yorks making preparations for their transport of Whipson to the wedding. The other was Susan from her office.
“I’ve sent you a digital fax of all the records you requested, and a few more.”
There was a long pause before Hannah broke the silence. “Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
Hannah heard Susan sigh. She waited for the doctor to restart the conversation.
The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore Page 7