The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore

by Kee Patterbee

  “I need to rescue Father Janus from my mother.”

  “Raymond’s a big boy. He can handle himself. That’s one of the reasons I chose him as my successor.” Whipson cocked his head to one side, coughing for a bit. Hannah waited for him to finish before settling back into her seat. “I suppose you’ll want to talk about him as well.”

  Nodding, Hannah observed the increasing tiredness of the man. Though she wanted to continue the conversation, her instinct told her otherwise. Let it be for now, she suggested to her inner self. “I suppose I will, but how about we do it sometime later? I don’t feel comfortable talking about it with him just over there. Besides, I think right now everyone could use some food. Tables are waiting at the restaurant and if I don’t get my dad away from the petit fours, there’ll be none left for the reception.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day, Hannah stood before Hymn, staring wide-eyed. She was somewhere between elated and terrified. Emotions tore at her as she struggled to hold back tears, all the while bearing a smile that stretched almost from ear to ear. In mere moments, she would be Hannah Starvling Miles. It seemed an eternity getting to this moment for her. She glanced sideways to see Gran. She’s about to fly out of that chair, Hannah noted as the elder Starvling beamed as she held tight to a leash with Hazelnut in her lap. The bride relented and brought the canine along at Gran’s insistence. This idea came after a conversation the elder Starvling had with her daughter-in-law. Skylar mentioned that some cultures considered a dog at a wedding not only good luck, but a blessing for a large family. After that, there was no denying Gran. Hazelnut was going to be there. “Because if one dog is lucky, two will be a charm,” the elder Starvling insisted. Meanwhile, Papa Jay struggled to remain ‘a man’ as he would say. Hannah could see him fighting back tears.

  Her parents, Mikael and Skylar sat next to the Starvling grandparents. Hannah almost laughed to see her mother holding an antique broom. “It’s a besom,” she recalled her mother insisting, “for sweeping away the past. Appalachian tradition.”

  Mikael, her father, also sat smiling, but Hannah could tell by the faraway look that although he was present, his mind was elsewhere. Central American jungle maybe, she thought to herself. Or contemplating cake. Her maternal grandfather, retired General Jackson Quinn, sat next at the end, stiff, rigid and in formal military dress, as always. At 6’3”, he was an imposing figure, even in his late 70s. Catching Hannah’s eye, he nodded once in approval through a slight grin. She gave him a wink. Turning her head back, she saw Cate Jordan, her Maid of Honor and best friend. Cate gave her a smile and motioned for her to turn back around. Buster and Vera, who stood beyond her, bore grand smiles. Looking back at Hymn’s grinning face and beyond, Hannah could just see his son Ed standing to the rear. A younger version of his father, she thought. Beyond him stood Will, who, like Papa Jay, struggled to hold back tears.

  “What token do you offer to show your love and devotion?” Reverend Whipson said, drawing Hannah’s attention back to the ongoing event.

  “A ring,” Hymn commented. He then looked down at Louie, who sat just behind Gran and Papa Jay. Louie rose and looked to the opposite end of the hall. He whistled, then came the padding of feet. A large bullmastiff, tan and black, padded his way down the aisle. Everyone in attendance smiled, laughed, and snapped pictures as the hound made his way toward Hannah and Hymn. Hannah patted the side of her dress and Critic came forward. She motioned with her hand as Louie instructed her earlier and the canine did as ordered. Hymn reached down and removed a red ribbon from around the dog’s neck. He gave the dog a pat on the head. “Down,” Louie called out and Critic complied, though at Hannah’s feet. Seeing this, Hazelnut let out a general “Woof” to make her presence known. Critic responded in kind as everyone laughed and enjoyed the exchange.

  Hymn unknotted the ribbon and removed two rings, handing one to his bride before the ceremony continued. Soon, it was complete. Vows exchanged along with kisses and congratulations. Hannah and Hymn became one.

  The reception that followed was noteworthy for all. An introduction came between Hazelnut and Critic. After a brief ‘sniff off’ as Papa Jay defined it, the two became instant companions. Later, both helped themselves to a large part of Hymn’s Red Velvet Groom’s cupcakes before anyone could stop them. This, much to the scolding of Critic by Louie Woolridge and Marquette Roux, Louie’s new love. The hound responded by lying on the floor and covering his eyes with one paw. His action amused all present. Hazelnut defied chastisement and wagged her tail as Hannah fussed at her. In the end, she forgave all.

  Vera and her boyfriend, Malcolm, announced their engagement. Louie and stepfather, billionaire, Asa Karas, were both shocked and pleased. Alvin ‘Al’ Hayes also chose a quiet moment aside, with Hannah and Hymn looking on, to ask for Cate’s hand. The answer was a resounding yes. The course of this event caused Buster Jordan, Cate’s adopted cousin, to burst into tears. Magdalen took the opportunity to comfort him with their first public kiss.

  Papa Jay and the General beamed throughout the night with pride. They spent their time talking with Louie and Cate’s father, Wilson. The military experience was the topic at hand, all having served their country with great honor in times of war. Hannah’s mother, Skylar Starvling, discussed sexual and fertility rites of native tribes with Gran. In turn, Gran kept notes, which she promised to forward to Hannah in an email. Hearing this, Hannah rolled her eyes. Her father, Mikael, spent the night in-between eating lots of wedding cupcakes and taking notes on the various ongoing activities. When his daughter asked what he was doing, he noted that he was comparing ancient Olmec wedding rites to those of the modern day. For the most part, everyone left the genius to his thoughts.

  Between the dancing, the celebrating, and the eating, Hannah found time to sit with Reverend Whipson. They sat listening to the music, supplied by a three piece band called Lipstick Red and fronted by Cate’s niece, Sasha Battle. Along with her college roommates, Gabby Miles and Koo Lui, they gave a rousing performance. Hannah felt grateful to get them.

  “They’re talented,” Whipson commented. “Not my particular brand of music, but I have a feeling they are going somewhere,” he added with a smile.

  Hannah agreed. After the band took a break, the two sat and chatted. Whipson sat watching his granddaughter and grandson-in-law talking with various guests. Hannah sipped a glass of diet ginger ale watching Hymn dance in an awkward manner with his new mother-in-law. Skylar seemed to be performing some form of ritualistic dance. Meanwhile, Hymn shuffled his feet while steadying himself with his cane. This amused both the Reverend and her. In time, Hannah guided the conversation to the ongoing events to Father Janus. She glanced over to him as he stood away talking with Vera and Malcolm.

  “It’s your wedding day, dear,” Whipson said. “Don’t worry about that until you get back from your honeymoon. Where are you two going, by the way?”

  Hannah twisted her face into a contemplative look. “I’m not sure. He’s been all secretive about it. He said he’ll tell me on the way.”

  “Well, wherever he takes you, go with good blessings. Like I said before, don’t worry over the investigation. It’s enough knowing you are looking into it.”

  Hannah smiled, though something about his words unsettled her. He’s close, she thought as she attempted to suppress a sad face.

  Once the reception concluded late into the night, Hannah and Hymn began to wrap things up. As she was getting ready to throw the bouquet, Gran produced a gift-wrapped box for the two. “Open it once you get where you are going,” the elder Starvling insisted. Hannah agreed after giving her grandmother a questioning look and a quick kiss on the cheek. She tossed her arrangement, which Marquette caught, much to Louie’s consternation and Critic’s excited barking. The hound’s bravado brought a similar round of barks from Hazelnut. This led to an inevitable chorus of howls. Laughter and photos ensued. Then guests pelted the wedded couple in the traditional manner, but with birdseed instead of
rice. Getting in the vehicle, Hannah smiled to see her mother sweeping the walk with the besom. She laughed to see her father picking up sunflower seeds and scrutinizing them as though they were foreign objects. At Hymn’s request, no tin cans tied with string to the bumper were present. Hannah waved at Magdalen who stood next to Buster. Her now sister-in-law held the leash holding Hazelnut. The bride was grateful that her new sister-in-law had agreed to stay in her and Hymn’s apartment to care for the pooch while they were away. She had no doubts that if she needed him, that is where she would also find Buster. After a round of congratulations and goodbyes, the bride and groom loaded into the Mustang and pulled away as a married couple.

  For a long time, the couple said nothing, but instead held hands, each wearing a satisfied smile. After a while on the freeway, Hymn pulled into a rest stop. Hannah proceeded to change, ridding herself of her gown in favor of jeans, a tee shirt, and of course, her hat. Hymn did the same, sans the hat. Hannah folded her dress and packed it away in a singular piece of luggage she brought along just for the occasion.

  With everything in place, the two set out. Again, they drove for a time, each recounting aspects of the day they remembered in particular. Skylar’s besom. Gran’s insistence on reminding Hymn of her “time left to see her great grandbabies.” Mikael’s eating of nine bridal cupcakes. Papa Jay, Will, and Buster’s tears. Hymn’s awkward dance. Critic and Hazelnut’s cupcake escapade.

  As the two again grew quiet, Hannah felt the pressure of the ongoing case creeping up on her once again. She was desperate to go on her honeymoon. Yet, she knew to do so meant two weeks of wondering, checking in, and of not being free of the situation. She wanted to find a resolution and find it fast. However, to her mind, she was stuck on a roller coaster. One of potential killers, questionable motives, and uncertain clues. She needed to find a new means of seeing the old in a new manner. So, she let her thoughts wander what paths they would. She often found this helpful in sorting out matters. Cate referred to it as pig trailing, noting that one way led to another, but that all in time led back to the same spot. “You got to let that genius of yours work how it will. Don’t force it,” Hannah’s best friend insisted. “Just let it come.”

  So, Hannah did just that. She thought back to her and Hymn’s most recent, non-case related conversation just moments before. She also considered their new life together. Her initial plans never extended beyond spending time with the man she loved, despite Gran’s insistence on her having children soon. Though she never discussed the matter with her grandmother, the thought made Hannah uncomfortable. She and Hymn had talked about the possibility. Although he did not dismiss the idea, he never once confirmed the desire to do so. He already has Ed, she thought. More so, there remained the question of her ability. The injuries she sustained that ended her FBI career were severe. She still bore the scars, both physical and mental. Of note, were two marks on either side of her abdomen; what Cate once referred to as bikini busters. The remaining one adorned her wrist. I may be… The mental echo of her words ran dry as a shudder coursed through her body. She shook her head and tried to redirect her mind by thinking of other things. First, were the Reverend and their conversation at the reception dinner. Father Janus was the subject. Janus himself had declined to come along, choosing instead to return to the cabin. This gave Hannah the opportunity to dig into his past.

  “We are of different faiths,” Whipson answered. “But Happiness is non-denominational. I took over from Reverend Chauntel Bland, a former attorney turned minister. He was a member of the Baptist sentiment. It just depends on who’s willing to do the job. The work being of a voluntary nature lends itself toward those who see this as a calling.”

  “Where did he come from?”

  “Ray’s been all over the world. He spent a good many years in Africa and South America. Rough places. In the 90s, he took over the church he was raised in. In Peaksville, Ohio, I believe it was. A childless couple there adopted him. He never talked much about it. I always sensed a great deal of pain about his real parents, so I never pushed much on it. He retired for some time before he became restless. He came to visit an acquaintance. We met, talked, and one thing led to another.”

  Rough places. Hannah considered what that would mean to the Reverend. Places of suffering, she concluded as she pressed on. “And he’ll be taking over from you?”

  Whipson coughed and smiled. “Sooner rather than later it seems.” He tapped his lower lip with a finger and shifted his eyes to Hannah. “The deaths go further back than Ray. You know that, right?”

  Hannah affirmed. “That suggests something. It doesn’t disprove anything. I’ve heard of stranger things.” Hannah shifted in her seat before continuing. She had questions for the man, but did not want to disturb him. Magdalen’s advice to look at the Reverend as a potential suspect struck her as odd at the moment. Nevertheless, if there were even a remote possibility, she had to balance her observations against what she asked and how he reacted. Given that, she tried to structure each question with care. “You said he was visiting a friend when you met. Had he been here before?”

  Whipson turned his eyes toward the corner of his sockets. A look of concentration rolled onto his face. Hannah waited as he thought the question over. Memory is slipping, she thought. She wondered if this was due to age or perhaps the ever-advancing state of his condition. After a pause and a stuttered start, the clergyman answered.

  “I think he’d been here several times, come to think of it. Must have.” Whipson scratched his head before adding, “You know, I can’t say for sure.”

  “Well, what’s he like on a day-to-day basis?”

  Whipson chuckled and smirked. “Well, it’s not right of me to say, but he can be a bit of a horse’s patootie at times. In a word, blunt. But through it all, he’s a good man.”

  “Can you think of a reason he would do this?” The sleuth waited for a second before adding, “Like, maybe if he didn’t… know he was doing it?”

  Whipson coughed hard several times as he frowned. Hannah handed him his glass and examined his emotional response. Although the Reverend’s condition led him to cough at an increasing rate, this time it struck her as different. It was almost as if her question had shocked him and this was the resulting response. She then watched as he drew the tips of his fingers to his forehead and rubbed them across. Guilt, she inferred, but is it for Janus or is it due to his own?

  Hannah determined the minister’s micro expressions, the subtle changes in one’s face, suggested guilt of some kind. Nevertheless, balanced against his health, each of those responses were easy to explain. Reading faces was not an exact science. I’m competent at it, Hannah admitted to herself, but not skilled.

  When the Reverend answered, it drew Hannah out of her considerations. His answer was halting and uncertain.

  “I… uh… I can’t think of one.” The clergyman paused before asking, “How is that even possible? To not know?”

  “Self-denial, perhaps. A mental condition.” Hannah stared at the man, pulling her lips in for a second before she continued. “Maybe strong medications.”

  Whipson’s eyes narrowed and his face tightened as he looked to the would-be detective. He cleared his throat and studied Hannah. “He’s not on any medication that I know of. He’s pretty much an advocate against pharmaceuticals of any kind. Something he shared in common with poor Richard.” He rocked his jaw from side to side as his eyes shifted downward into near slits. “We’re not talking about Ray anymore, are we?”

  Hannah said nothing, but waited for the man to process the information. In a roundabout manner, she had just asked him if he were a murderer. Her great concern was how such a consideration would affect him. She watched as he rolled the tips of his fingers across his lower lip. He shifted his eyes away from hers, locking them on the activities at the reception. She could tell he was thinking over the possibility. In a moment, he nodded.

  “I’m not sure how to respond to that,” Whipson stated. “There
are periods where I don’t remember doing things. Susan said it was side effect of the medication… and the disease. It’s always getting worse.” He shuddered before continuing. His response was both an internal and external question. “Is it possible?” Turning to look at her, the Reverend bore great weight on his face. “Could I do these things and not know?”

  Tears welled into the clergyman’s eyes. He took hold of Hannah’s hand and squeezed. Desperate, she noted. Unsure. A sudden guilt ran through her body. In her intense focus, she further burdened the man, not unburdened him. Now, she had to undo what she had done, to reassure him, even though she herself was unsure.

  She gave him a forced, yet somehow still weak smile. “I don’t think so, but what kind of gumshoe would I be if I didn’t question the person who brought it to my attention? Have to give everyone a fair shake. That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks.”

  “I don’t pay you anything,” the Reverend responded. It relieved Hannah to see him say so with a slight smile on his face.

  “That’s okay. I’m not charging anything.”

  Whipson half laughed before he again broke into a coughing fit. Hearing this, Susan made her way to him.

  “Pawpaw?”

  The Reverend waved her off. “It’s okay. We were just discussing the future.”

  Susan straightened herself up. She placed a hand on her hip and shook a finger at her grandfather with the other. “I thought Reverend’s weren’t supposed to lie.”

  The clergyman grinned before letting the image fall away. He peered at his granddaughter before glancing over Hannah. “Everyone does. Most of the time to ourselves.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Hymn turned the car off the freeway and onto the ramp, the motion dragged Hannah from her thoughts. She caught sight of a sign in the headlights. Reading it, she turned to Hymn with a questioning look. He looked over and grinned.