“We’re staying here? For our honeymoon?” Hannah asked in a terse and edgy tone.
“No, remember the town I told you about? The one on the other side. We’re staying there, just for the night. Tomorrow, you go to the center and clear your pretty little head of all those questions you are mulling over. Then we go on to our honeymoon.”
Hannah huffed and crossed her arms. She cocked her head and eyed her husband out of the corner of her eye.
“Come on, now. You know it will bug you until you get it out of your system. Besides, where we are staying has a cool museum. There’s a great place for breakfast in the morning. We’ll be in and out of Happiness and get to our first destination tomorrow night.”
Thinking it over, Hannah bobbed her head. “Okay, but only because you married me. One night in Tantalus.” She paused for a moment. “You do realize this means our first night as husband and wife will be spent in Greek hell.”
“Nah, can’t be. Wherever you are is heaven enough for me,” Hymn responded.
“Good save.”
The two arrived in the small town of Tantalus. Hannah marveled at the setting. In many ways, it reminded her of Twilight. Old and caught in time, she thought. When they pulled in from of a well kempt but old style plantation home, the amateur sleuth shot Hymn a wide-eyed look, backed by a slight grin. “Don’t you just love it?” he said.
Hannah nodded as she turned to take in the sight of a long, oval shaped neon motel sign reading Bate’s again. It occasionally flickered with an ebb and flow of luminosity, lighting the street. “Classic,” Hannah said half-aloud.
Hymn led Hannah inside. Norma Fish, the owner, greeted them. 60’ish. Thin. Average height. Reddish, but greying hair, Hannah filed mentally.
“Sorry for the hour,” Hymn said.
“Nonsense, dear. You’re not disturbing anyone. We expected you. I received a call from a sweet young woman named Magdalen telling me you were on the way, so everything is good to go. You two are the only guests for tonight.”
Norma handed Hymn the keys and said, “Up the stairs, second door on the left. The Red Room it’s called. Just for newlyweds. I’ll bring your bags right up.”
Hymn declined, insisting he could manage, and he started up. Hannah paused as she caught sight of a stack of books resting on the table next to the counter. Picking one up, she read over the title.
“A Murderous Little Town: The dark history of a small Alabama community’ by H. E. Holmes.” She flipped the book over to see a picture of a man in his 50s, glasses, salt and pepper hair, with a broad smile. “Hmm,” she said with an intrigued tone.
“That’s a local author and a good friend. It’s several years old, but he’s updating it. It’s a good little read if you’re interested in that sort of thing. You should take one.”
Hannah smiled and reached into her pocket but the woman waved her off. “No charge. On the house.”
Hannah thanked Norma and made her way up the stairs and into the room. Hymn was already resting on the bed. Seeing the book, he asked about it.
“A wedding gift, I guess,” she said laying it on the bedside table. “It seems this quiet little town has a bit of a dark past.” She crawled up next to Hymn, resting her head on his shoulder. “Tell me again why you took me to a town named for Greek Hell with a history of serial killers for our honeymoon?”
“I was hoping to scare you into bed.”
“Well, you got me into bed, so now what, Mr. Miles?”
“I have a few ideas,” he offered, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. Within moments, both were asleep. They spent the remaining hours of the night in each other’s arms from the pure exhaustion of the day.
The couple awoke around 10:00 AM. After a shower and a change of clothes, they made their way to the diner Hymn had mentioned. A restaurant named Nick of Time. On the table in each booth was an old, small, fortune-telling machine with a small devil’s head on top. One placed a coin in the device and a slip of paper with a fortune appeared. Placing in a nickel, Hannah took the offering and read. “You have all you need before you. Hmm. This thing works.”
“Uh huh,” Hymn offered, producing another coin and dropping it in the slot. Taking the slip, he laughed. “You will lead a life of mystery and adventure with the one you love. Maybe we should buy it and take it with us.”
Both laughed and chatted as they waited for their order. Once it arrived, Hannah glanced at her husband and smiled.
“Did you give this honeymoon any thought at all?” she asked, taking a large bite of biscuits and gravy into her mouth.
“I admit. I almost didn’t plan on anything. With you, something always comes up.”
Hannah glowered but Hymn continued.
“So, I figured I’d cut it off at the pass. I saw you talking to the Reverend last night, and I know that curious mind of yours. We’re passing nearby on our way to our first destination, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check into things in Happiness one more time. After we finish up here, we’ll check out the museum which you will love by the way. Susan and the Reverend are going to meet us at the medical center again later.”
“They’re already back?”
“Everyone but Father Janus. At the reception, he asked if it were okay for him to keep the room since it was already rented. I didn’t think you’d mind. Besides, you were too busy becoming Mrs. Miles to notice. Calvin, Susan, and the Reverend left a little after you talked to him. He wasn’t feeling well.”
Hannah nodded. “I’m sure it was for obvious reasons.”
Hymn shrugged. Hannah could tell the thought of the Reverend’s impending demise was raw to her husband. It hurt Hannah’s soul to see how it weighed on him. She wanted to say something to ease his sorrow, but she knew no words could comfort, so she reached over, took his hand and held it. He looked up with an appreciative smile.
The waitress interrupted Hannah’s gesture with a smile and offered more coffee. Both agreed. Looking the woman over, Hannah sized her up. Late 30s. 5’6. Black hair beginning to grey. Thin. Pretty but aged.
“Excuse me, but do you know much about Happiness?”
The waitress smiled as she filled the cups. “Are we talking the emotional kind, the spiritual kind, or…” The woman gestured toward the street. “The town down the way?”
“The town,” Hannah confirmed with a chuckle.
“Not much, I suppose. You’d think I would since I live right next door. But Tantalus and Happiness, they’re altogether different sentiments.”
As Hannah questioned the waitress, Hymn’s phone rang. He answered as the two women’s conversation paused for him. As the pleasant expression on his face drained away into nothingness, Hannah could tell the news was bad. His eyes widened as they turned up to his bride. “We’re in Tantalus. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He clicked the phone off. Hannah again took hold of his hand.
“Is it the Reverend?”
Hymn shook his head. “That was him. It’s Mudbug. She went into cardiac arrest.”
Hannah’s mouth fell agape as her eyes narrowed. “Is she…”
“No, I didn’t catch much, but I think she was at the center. Another doctor was on hand. He stabilized her. She’s in ICU.” Hymn paused as he pulled out his wallet. The waitress who overheard the conversation, shook her head. “Just go, honey. It’s covered. Go.”
Fifteen minutes later, Hymn sped the Mustang into the medical center parking lot. He and Hannah bolted inside once again encountering the woman named Wormwood at reception.
“ICU is on the third floor. Waiting room will be on the right as you exit onto the floors.” Wormwood smiled toothily and added, “Good luck.”
After making their way to the floor and into the waiting room, Hannah and Hymn found Whipson sitting in the corner. He held the crucifix from his neck in his hand as he mumbled, eyes closed. The couple came to an immediate stop before him. After a second, the clergyman opened his eyes. They showed red with sorrow. He reached up with both hands,
Hannah and Hymn taking hold. They sat beside him as tears rolled down the lines of his aged face.
For a long time, no one said anything. Then Whipson cleared his throat. He lifted a shaky hand to his mouth. “I don’t understand what’s happened.”
Hymn placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Have you heard anything?”
“All I know is that she was consulting on a patient and started to feel ill. She passed out and her heart stopped. Henry Holmes, the doctor she was working with, saved her. He and Calvin are with her now.”
“When did this happen?” Hymn inquired.
“A while ago,” Whipson answered in a shaky voice. “I’m not sure of the exact time. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but it all happened so fast. By the time, Jackie came and got me… I just didn’t think about it.”
Hymn squeezed the elder clergyman’s hand. “It’s fine, but I’m glad you did.”
Hannah turned toward the door. “You don’t happen to know which patient, do you?”
The Reverend gave a questioning look. “Which patient?”
“Which patient she was consulting on? Was it in Holmes’ office or in a room?”
Whipson shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
Hymn glanced over to his wife. “Is that important right now?”
Hannah affirmed. “It might be.” She looked to Whipson. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s strong. But if you’ll excuse me…” She gave his hand one more squeeze before looking to Hymn. “I’ve got to check something out,” she insisted. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Pulling out her cellphone, she motioned with it. “Keep me informed if anything happens.”
Hymn nodded without question as Hannah exited to the hall. She moved toward the nursing station just before a large, double door entrance. Above the portal was a large sign reading Intensive Care Unit. As Hannah came to the tall counter, she looked over to see a nurse typing on a computer. 50s. Short. Maybe 4’11 or 5’. Reddish-brown hair. Bulbous nose. Hazel eyes. Down turned mouth.
“Excuse me,” Hannah said.
The woman turned to look at the sleuth with a frown. Hannah drew up her best smile. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m with Susan York. They brought her in and…”
“Dr. York is stable for the moment,” the nurse interrupted with a blank look and stern tone.
Seeing the woman’s reaction to her request, Hannah drew another smile forward. However, unlike the first, it was a troubled, forced smile. “Oh, yes. I know. Thank you. But they told me she left some items in the room where she had her…” Hannah fluttered her eyes, rolling them toward the roof. She pulled her lips in and swallowed hard before continuing. “Episode,” she continued in a strained voice. “I was hoping to retrieve them for her. Susan and I… She’s my…” She squished her face up as if she were about to burst into tears. “You wouldn’t happen to know where it happened, would you?”
Hannah turned her eyes back to the nurse wearing a saddened expression. At first, the nurse continued to hold onto a stoic look. Then, it gave way to a sympathetic smile. Bought it, Hannah thought. The nurse looked down toward some of the files lying on the desk before her. After a moment, she glanced one over. “She was consulting with a patient on the fifth floor. I’m sure her items are with the station there now. Would you like me to call up and see? I could have them brought down?”
Hannah shook her head. “That’s okay. Thank you. I’ll go get them, if you don’t mind. I could use a moment away from it all.” She sniffled for added measure.
“Of course,” the nurse agreed. “Don’t worry, honey. Dr. York’s strong. She’s going to be fine. Her husband won’t let nothing happen to her,” she added with a compassionate tone.
After thanking the woman, Hannah set off for the fifth floor. Thinking her performance over, she could almost hear the voice of Cate saying, “Drama queen” in her ear. Though disturbed by the ongoing events, this still made her half smile.
Once on the floor, Hannah glanced over at a sign that pointed to rooms in either direction. Thinking it over, she knew there would be a nurse’s station somewhere nearby. She had to find a way to determine what room Susan had collapsed in. She also knew that asking outright might draw questions. Wanting to avoid explanations and to keep her suspicions to herself, she decided the first step was to try to locate the room on her own. While considering it, she saw two nurses headed in her direction. In their late twenties by her estimation, they came before the elevators. As they waited, each talked loud enough for her to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“..508. She just hit the floor.”
“Do they know what happened?”
“Maybe a heart attack…”
As their voices faded within the elevator, Hannah continued down the hall in the direction of a sign that numbered rooms. 508. Room number, she thought. Has to be her. Lucky. Checking the signs again for directions, she headed to the location. Once found, she read the name handwritten on the small dry erase board affixed to the door. Patient: Victoria West. Primary: Dr. Holmes. Restricted diet. See notes. Hannah eased the door open to find a woman propped up in bed while reading a book. 70s. 5’5. Thin. Short grey hair. Wire rim glasses.
“Hi,” Hannah said, “I’m from administration. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
The woman looked up and scanned over Hannah with a puzzled look. “Administration?”
For a moment, Hannah was unsure about the question. Then she turned her eyes down toward herself. Jeans. Black tee shirt. Top hat with goggles. Don’t look the part. Improvise.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It was my day off, but when they called about one of our physicians collapsing, I came right over. I was out and about, so I apologize for my appearance.”
The woman relaxed and smiled. “That’s okay, dear. What can I help you with?”
“Well, could you tell me what happened this morning with the doctor?”
“Of course. I was asleep when Dr. Holmes came in way early. He brought the young doctor with him. York, wasn’t it?”
Hannah affirmed as she took a seat in the corner of the room.
“Yes, well, we talked for a bit, and then she went all pale. Next thing I know she was on the floor and Dr. Holmes was calling for help. It was all chaos from then on. Not much more to tell.”
“Did Dr. Holmes say why he brought in Dr. York?”
“It was a consultation. Dr. Holmes is my internist. He said Dr. York was a geriatrics specialist whom he consults. I have diabetes, osteoporosis, and just diagnosed with Parkinson’s to boot. He thought she might have some insights on the best way to treat all given my obvious youth,” West added with a grin.
Hannah returned the same. Cheery disposition given, crossed her mind. But not terminal in the short term. She glanced over to the wastebasket next to the woman’s bed. A box protruded over the edge. The back edge read Spur of the Moment. She pointed to the container. “Were those yours?”
The woman glanced over at the box and shook her head. “Oh no. At least I don’t think so. Like I said, I’m diabetic and have deteriorating bones. I’m on a nothing-that-taste-good-can-be-eaten diet.” She pointed to the box. “That kind of thing is certain death for me according to the powers that be.”
“Do you know where they came from?”
“No, it was on the table there when I woke up.” The woman pointed to the small, rolling food tray next to Hannah. “Someone must have dropped them off while I was asleep. I suppose I could have forgotten if they did.” West moved one hand to her mouth and cupped it. “Alzheimer’s comes with Parkinson’s they tell me, so you never know. Or maybe I don’t know,” she half whispered before chuckling.
Hannah tried not to laugh but found it impossible not to. The woman’s attitude was contagious and refreshing, despite the direness of her conditions.
“Eh, what are you going to do? Something’s going to take you down. Might as well not give it the last laugh, eh?” She glanced at the box again. “Well, whoever brought the
m wasted their money. Dr. York tossed the box there.”
“She didn’t happen to eat one, did she?”
“Uh huh.”
“And Dr. Holmes?”
“No, he’s diabetic too. He declined. I was about to tell her to take them, but I never got the chance. Poor thing, is she okay?”
“She’s going to be.” Hannah rose. “Do you mind if I take that box?”
West again gave an odd, questioning look. Hannah responded with a quick explanation. “That big of a fan of sweets, dear?”
Hannah laughed. “No, but if someone dropped it off as a promotion, it’s against hospital policy. So I need to find out who and why.”
“Ah, I see. So now you’re the intrepid hospital sleuth who is on the case.” West gave another chuckle. “Take them. Otherwise, I might pull them out and eat them myself.”
“Well, I’m sorry you had to witness that. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Nothing I can think of, so forget about it. I know I will.”
Both women laughed though Hannah felt some guilt about it. She thanked the woman and looked around the room. She spotted a box of blue latex gloves. Removing a pair, she pulled them on. Though she found it improbable that such evidence would remain, she took care not to destroy any fingerprints. Picking it up, she noted the container’s weight. Light. When West again gave her a puzzle look, she produced another smile.
“I have this thing about germs,” Hannah explained as she exited with the box in hand. Once outside, she opened the container with care. Empty. All that remained were the paper holders. She pulled her face in as she pondered over the carton. The patient, West, claimed Holmes nor she ate any, but that Susan had, but she was uncertain about who had dropped them in her room. Though the woman had Parkinson’s disease, and Alzheimer’s was a symptom in some cases, West seemed not to suffer as such. She only joked about it. Thus, Hannah came to only one conclusion. It was clear to her that Susan had brought them with her. The question now was who had given them to her and were they all tainted or just one. No way to tell, she inferred, but she tried to sort it out. It seemed improbable to her that the perpetrator tainted all. There were too many chances for others to get hold of a poisoned piece. Doesn’t fit the method. People share, she thought. Whoever is doing this, it’s about control. Single victims. She frowned. Moreover, what if the target didn’t eat one first? It would tip them off. At that moment, Hannah made a connection. “Wessel,” she said half aloud, catching herself at the last moment. She glanced around as layered thoughts started pouring in on her, one after another. Wessel. Overweight. Died in office. Cardiac arrest. Candy box. Empty in trash. Office. In the office. Next to Whipson. Who is diabetic? Her sea green eyes twinkled as her quirk presented itself. Diabetic. Offered it to Wessel. Her eyes shot wide open. Whipson was the target. “It was an accident,” she said aloud. Two nearby nurses turned to give her a look as she cleared her throat and gave a weak smile. “Sorry, just figured something out.” After giving her another odd look, the women returned to their business. Hannah bobbed her head in self-appreciation as she headed to the elevators.
The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore Page 12
