The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Four

by Kee Patterbee

  “It’s already corrupted.”

  “True, but corrupted or not, it’s seems impossible that poison would be in the box from any outside source from me handling it. One way or another, it’ll give us an answer.””

  Both Holmes and Borden agreed.

  “So, do you know anyone who can do a rush job?”

  “I know someone at Stefano College in the criminal studies department. She does work for me when I need it,” the lawman responded.

  “I have a similar thing at Serling.”

  For the first time since they met, Hannah saw Borden grin.

  “Serling? You a Gremlin?”

  “A big green monster maniac. Graduated there before I joined the bureau. You a member of the Purple Testament?”

  “Faith in the hue.”

  Holmes shook his head. “I have never understood sporting rivalries.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Once back on the floor with the ICU unit, Hannah, Holmes and Borden parted company. Before leaving, Holmes agreed to make the request for the exhumation of Brother Wessel. He would also seek permission for one of the other victims, Laurette Bowen, through their family. Bowen was one of the two victims for whom he was the primary care physician. Borden agreed to take the request before a judge once everything was ready as well as test the box for poison. Nevertheless, for the moment, he headed back to Tantalus to take care of ongoing duties.

  Hannah, again sought out her husband. She found him still with Whipson in the ICU waiting area. Pulling Hym aside, she recounted everything and inquired about whether he had spoken or seen Calvin.

  “I saw him pass by, but he didn’t stop,” Hym recalled. “He seemed upset for sure.”

  “Nervous? Scared? Angry?”

  “Hard to say. I mean, he just went on by, never looking our way. His head was down and he had his hands shoved into his pockets. So, what’s the word?”

  “Pensive.”

  “Yeah, I’d say that’s it. Like he had a lot on his mind. Not surprising, given his wife is in ICU and you asked him if he put her there.””

  Hannah raised her head to examine her husband’s expression. She could not tell if it were an honest remark or sarcastic statement. “Stepping on toes,” was all she said. It was enough to cause Hym to stiffen a little. Sarcasm, she noted. A discussion for later. At that later time, she would remind him of his agreement to the terms of the investigation. Where it led would not be restricted by friendship and bruised egos. For now, she chose to remain focused on Calvin, regardless of Hym’s reluctance to do so.

  “Brooding, but over what? I told you how he reacted when the Sheriff mentioned exhuming the body. What do you make of that?”

  “Alright.” Hym placed his hands on his hips before throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. He then brought his eyes back down to meet his wife’s. ““If it were me, I’d worry.”

  Hannah cocked her head to one side but said nothing, letting Hym continue.

  “Not because of guilt, but because it’s a natural reaction. We all…react in some way when we’re accused, even if we didn’t do it. In this case, it’s that fear that there might be something going on. I’d imagine he’’s thinking, ‘what if I’m wrong and there is something to all this? When they exhume the body, they’ll find poison and they'll blame me’.” Hym raised fingers as he counted and peered straight at Hannah. “One, he’s been denying there was something going down which makes him look like he’s trying to throw off the scent of the hound.” He pointed to his wife before he continued with his action. “Two, it has to be clear to him that whatever is going on centers on him and/or Mudbug. Three, this is all out of his control. Remember what I told you about him? He’s always in control. This is enough to send anyone over the edge, but a guy like Calvin…” Hym paused, lifted his hand and placed it on Hannah’s shoulder. “Someone attacked the woman he loves. Adores, even. If it were me, I’d be more than upset. I would be downright pissed, in particular at myself for not protecting you.” He leaned over and kissed Hannah’s forehead. Pulling back, he added, “That’s what I make of it.”

  Hannah considered Hym’s argument. “Scent of the hound. Did you just call me…”

  “No!” Hym threw his hands up in a defensive measure. “Hound, as in bloodhound. If I called that, it would make me…””

  “Right, we’ll leave it at that, mister.” Hannah pulled him forward for a quick make up smooch. “Okay, I can see that. I told Dr. Holmes and Sheriff Borden that I didn’t think he was guilty, but I couldn’t wrap my head around Calvin’s reaction. Everything up until that point was anger, frustration, and passive-aggressive denial. Then, he just hesitated and swallowed hard at the mention of exhumation. But what you said makes some sense.” Set it aside for now, she added in a thought. She glanced down at her phone. ““It’s some time before I have to meet up with Rhoades.” The sleuth looked over to Whipson, who yet again prayed as he sat in the waiting area. “You think we could talk him into some food? He needs to keep his strength up.”

  “Until he sees Mudbug, he won’t move.”

  “And you’re not going to move until he does, I suppose.”

  Hym gave a meek smile and threw his hands half up as if caught.

  “Well, I’ll go back to the cafeteria and bring both of you something. What does he like?”

  A large, appreciative smile came to Hym as he drew Hannah up to his chest. “Love you, Sherlock. Thanks for understanding.”

  “Love you too, Sweet Face. That’s what we do now. We’re a team. They mean a lot to you, so they mean a lot to me. I’ll be back in just a bit. You want something?”

  “Not that hungry at the moment.”

  “The Reverend’s not the only one who needs to keep his strength up. All this will end soon and then there’s that honeymoon to attend to. I have plans for you.””

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “I do.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “And I meant it.”

  Hannah gave her husband a kiss and yet again headed back toward the elevators. Per usual, her mind drifted to the case. Doing so, a wave of frustration fell over her. Her instincts told her that she had all the pieces to the puzzle, all the players in the game, but she had yet to sort it or them out. As she waited for the elevator with a young couple, she tried to focus but found it hard to do so. Too much was happening around her at a time when she wanted nothing more than to wrap the case up and get on with her life. Her honeymoon with Hym hung over her. Dreams of their life together. A future unwritten, to date, unrealized. But her promise to Whipson drove her forward and at the same time, grounded her in the present. You made a promise. Keep it. Solve it. Pick through it.

  After a moment of sorting through the various details, Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose. Still missing something, she determined. Then, the words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle speaking as Sherlock Holmes came to mind. “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.”

  Hannah turned her focus in that direction after stepping onto the elevator. If it’s all here, I’m missing something obvious, but what? She gave herself a quick rundown of her suspects, both believable and unbelievable. First on her list was Ms. Lindsay, the candy shop owner. Hannah rolled her eyes, chastising herself for even considering the possibility. No connection other than her husband, and his death doesn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary. No dice. Next was Whipson. Again, she reprimanded herself for even looking at him. Too ill. Still sane. Too upset. No killer. Susan was out unless her health incident turned up unrelated or a plea of help, as was Wessel, unless she misread the situation. That left only three possibilities. Calvin, Janus, and Rhoades, the sleuth listed. Calvin remained suspect, but only in the slightest manner to her. He seemed to care for his wife as well as the Reverend. Hannah further noted that although reluctant at first, he did agree in the end to their request to look further into his life, despite his reaction to the threat of exhum
ation of bodies.

  As the doors opened, Hannah’s quirk presented itself. After stepping out, she moved to the side and contemplated. Father Janus stayed in Twilight after the wedding. Susan got ill this morning. Her eyes widened as she twisted her lips and pulled her cheeks in. “Rhoades is at work,” she let out half aloud.

  Stepping out into the hallway, she turned toward the cafeteria. Along the way, she saw the center’s gift shop, which she had missed before. Glancing through the glass pane of the storefront as she passed by, she saw a woman looking over a large stack of candy gift boxes. Hannah stopped to observe. Spur of the Moment, she noted as she read the display sign and recognized the containers. Ms. Lindsay’s. In that moment, she realized she had made the erroneous assumption that all the candy came from the store in Happiness. Now, she understood that it could have come from at least two locations. Maybe more, she speculated. With that, Hannah entered the shop and approached the woman at the counter whom she recognized from reception. Wormwood. The woman smiled as she approached.

  “How is Dr. York?” Wormwood inquired.

  “Stable for the moment. You sure get around. I thought you worked reception?”

  “Oh, I’m all over the place. Reception some.” She gave a pleasing smile. ““I’m an old candy striper all over the hospital as well. A volunteer. Wherever I’m needed. It keeps me busy since my husband passed.””

  Hannah winced a little. “I’m so sorry.”

  Wormwood waved the comment off. “Well, thank you dear. That’s sweet, but these things happen as we age. It’s to be expected. Sometimes when we’re not that old. That’s when it hurts the most. To those we love. It happens and we never know why. Other times, we just have to suffer through them and think there’’s an opportunity to amend things thereafter.”

  There was a brief time of awkward silence between the older woman and the younger sleuth. Wormwood’s awkward, lingering smile unnerved Hannah, reminding her that at some point she might have to face the same with Hym. Although in all probability it would be far in the future, something about the comment struck a chord with her. The idea that she might somehow be separated from her new husband sent chills down her spine. She stiffened and took a step back before responding in a manner meant to redirect the conversation.

  “You know this place in and out then, I take it.”

  Wormwood gave a quizzical smile. “I do.”

  Hannah pointed to the stack of candies. “Is this and the store they come from the only place to get these?”

  The woman gestured no. “They’re pretty much exclusive to Happiness, but you can find them all over the place around the community: the store, Spur of the Moment, of course, here, the restaurant downtown called Rod’’s, and the pharmacy. I think even Colonel Hawthorne sells them at the Vets museum.” Wormwood gave a gingered laugh. “But between you and me, I think he buys and eats most of them himself.”” She straightened her work apron with the word Happiness embroidered across it. The large letters were emblazoned in a rainbow of colors.

  “Pristine,” Hannah noted and added to her file on the woman. Taking the small shop in, she noticed no other forms of candy. “Is this the only kind you sell?”

  “Pretty much. We used to have the usual kinds. Candy bars, chews, and such, but after a while, everyone seemed to prefer these. It just made sense to sell them and let everyone get the others from the vending machines.”

  Another broad smile mounted Wormwood’s face. “Would you like to take some to Dr. York? She loves them. They might make her feel better.”

  Hannah stiffened at the woman’s words. She knew the older lady meant nothing by the sentiment, but the thought sent another chill down her spine. “You say she likes them?”

  “Oh, yes, she comes in here every few weeks it seems and buys a small box.”

  Hannah turned back to examine the stacked boxes. She found that some held specific types of candies: petit fours, fudge, and other small treats. Others were of a mixed variety. One kind in particular caught her attention. Lemon cake petit fours. Small box. For the Reverend, Hannah thought as a smile ran across her face. She picked up a box of that variety. ““These?” she inquired, holding up a box.

  Wormwood pointed to the stacks of boxes on the display table and wiggled her finger. “No. Just a mixed assortment like those on the left.”

  Again, Hannah stiffened. She set the box down and picked up the small box. It was the same as the one she found in Victoria West’s room earlier that day. Thoughts rushed her mind. So much so, she had to close her eyes to slow the speed at which they came. After a second, she steadied herself enough to produce a pleasant face. She laid the box on the counter and paid for it.

  Wormwood cocked her head a slight bit to the right as she rang up the sale. “Are you alright, dear? You’ve gone a bit pale.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just worried about my friend. Hope she gets the chance to enjoy these.”

  “I’m sure she will. Her husband’s looking after her now. He’’s a fine doctor. Both are. Quite generous with their patients. If you’re suffering, they’re the ones to see. Everyone here just loves them, and of course, I’’m sure the good Reverend is doing all he can for his granddaughter as well. It’s just part of his nature now to help, isn’t it? I’’m sure you’re aware, he’s quite fond of her. All this must be a terrible burden. He must be suffering so.”

  “He is.”

  “Would you like this gift wrapped? I may be getting older but I can still wrap things up with the best of them. It gives it that personal touch.”

  “That won’t be necessary, but thanks anyway. You have a good day. I’m sure I’’ll see you around.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you will, dear,” the woman said.

  Moments later, Hannah was in the cafeteria with bag in hand. As she stood in line at the deli counter section waiting for her order, she could not help staring at the box. A great deal of what Wormwood said played repeatedly in her mind. Comes in every few weeks and buys a box. Mixed variety. If you’re suffering, they’re the ones to see. Her hand came to cover her mouth. Obvious things again played through her thoughts. In an instant, doubts came to her. She wondered if she had been overlooking the obvious. Though she had considered Susan as an accomplice to Calvin, she now wondered if it were the reverse. If, perhaps, he were submissive to her. If he were aiding her somehow. Susan bought the candy. The same sweets that Hannah had found in Wessel’s office. She was in the victim’s rooms in every case, albeit along with her husband. The same type box she found in West’s room where Susan collapsed. Could she have, by accident, eaten a poisoned petite four or piece of fudge left for West? Perhaps she knew that with Holmes at her side, she had a good chance at survival and ate one on purpose. Thereby, any suspicion would be offset. It would be a bold move. A risky one, but anyone unstable enough to poison might be willing, she considered. The question Hannah had to answer was would it be one Susan would take. A question for Hym. The idea made her wince. Given his resistance to her considerations of Calvin, she knew full on any such consideration of Mudbug would be more so. She sighed and paid little attention as the man behind the counter handed her two sacks.

  “Well, this is going to suck,” she mumbled half aloud thinking the situation over.

  The older man behind the counter produced an incredulous face. “It’s not so bad. I mean, its hospital deli but its still deli fresh. I guarantee.”

  The man’s comment brought Hannah to the moment. She sized him up. Late 60s. 5’10” to 5’11”, Heavy set. Grey hair with remaining hints of black. Dark eyes. Hannah blushed. “Oh, no, sorry. I wasn’t… I mean, I’m sure it is. I was thinking about something else.””

  The man smirked. “Eh, forget about it. It happens about two or three times a week anyways. No big deal.”

  New York Bronx Italian accent, she added to her profile.

  She glanced behind the man at his mounted menu. In the lower corner, spelled out in small letters, were ‘we cater.’


  A thought crossed Hannah’s mind. “You cater. Can I ask you a question about that business?”

  “Insult my food, then you want to ask me a question. You got to love the south.” The man gave a gregarious laugh. “Sure, sweetheart, why not. Ask away.”

  “I assume you serve your food on platters.”

  “Sure. How else would we?”

  “If someone wanted to prank someone or surprise them, say put a ring in a piece or something nasty like jelly in a pastrami roll up, how would you make sure the person they wanted to get it, got it?”

  The man shrugged. “Like a wedding proposal or something like that?” He scratched the back of his head. “Don’’t know. You’d have to either dose them all, which would be pretty expensive if it were a proposal given all them rings. Or hand them that one in particular, maybe on a separate plate or something.” He studied the sleuth. “You thinking of joking on someone, cause that’s a strange question?”

  Hannah grinned. “I’m a strange girl.”

  Taking in her top hat, the man nodded. “Yeah, I kind of got that. You have yourself a nice day now, lady.”

  “You do the same.” With that, Hannah headed back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Hannah arrived back in the waiting area, she found Hym sitting alone, head thrust back against the wall, and sleeping. She awoke him with a kiss on the forehead.

  “Hey you,” she said, offering her husband one of the deli bags. “Where’s the Reverend?”

  “Back with Mudbug. She hasn’t woken yet but they think she’ll recover.” Hym looked at Hannah with a concerned expression. “They’re testing for long term damage.”

  Hannah took in his pain and nodded. He’s hurting. “Is she awake?”

  Hym shook his head. “Not yet, but Calvin said that was normal.” He ran his hand over his head and through his hair. “As if any of this is normal.”” He reached in the bag and removed a sandwich, a soda, and some chips. Studying the sandwich as he did so, he looked over it toward Hannah. “So, where are you now? I know you’ve been thinking it over. Still thinking Calvin?””