The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Four Read online

  Contents

  Title Page & copywrite

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Menu

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Epilogue

  More Titles

  The is a work of fiction.

  None of it is real as the names, locations, etc are all part of the author’s imagination.

  The Priest who Ate the Poison Petit Fore

  Copyright 2015

  Kee Patterbee

  Twice by Lightning LLC

  http://KeePatterbee.com

  [email protected]

  All rights reserved

  No part of this work can be used or reproduced in any manner except as allowable under “fair use” without express written permission of the author.

  73,000 words.

  THE PRIEST WHO ATE THE POISON PETIT FORE

  by Kee Patterbee

  To Mr. Patterbee, how can I do this without your loving support!

  Prologue

  Two months later, on a local news segment.

  “…It was a most unusual camera. Back to you, Charles.”

  (Cut to Charles Diedridge behind the news desk.)

  “Indeed it was, Paula. We catch up now with a couple of heroes who have become something of a local sensation. Their story has been going around the internet and has inspired many not to sit down and take it when faced with a large task. Instead, you should approach it with everything you have. It doesn’t matter your size. It’s your attitude. Luther Dingle has the story.”

  (Shot of Dingle standing with a microphone.)

  “That’s right, Charles. The story is about loyalty, feistiness, and big, big attitude.

  (Cut to a small Yorkshire terrier and another, small white and tan dog playing in the grass together.)

  “Gigantor and Hazelnut. Two hound friends with a nose for trouble and a sense of protection. Several months back, these two took down the alleged murderer in the case of the Poisoned Petit Fours. Despite their size, they intervened to bring about justice.”

  (Shot of dogs sniffing at the camera. Hazelnut licks the lens. Cut to Interviewee. Screen reads, Sindee Starvling-Gigantor’s Owner.)

  “Oh, yes, we were there. Gigantor there, is ours.

  (Cut to Yorkshire terrier.)

  Hazelnut belongs to my granddaughter, Hannah, and her husband, Hym.”

  (Cut to small, mixed breed dog.)

  “How did these two become involved in a murder case?”

  (Cut to interviewee)

  “Oh, we were helping Hannah. One of the involved parties asked her to look into the murder case. She’s a bit of an investigator. She gets it from me. I used to dabble when I was young.”

  “As the Gumshoe Gal.”

  “Oh, I haven’t gone by that in years. My granddaughter was with the FBI before she became a culinary consultant. Now they call her the Culinary Detective. She asked me to help on the case and we happened to have these two with us. When the perp ran……”

  (Shot of dogs running. Cut back to interview.)

  “The alleged murderer.”

  “That’s what I said. It’s detective lingo, honey. Well, the ALLEGED MURDERER attempted to get away and knocked my husband down. Jayland, over there.””

  (Cut to older man in his late 70s standing nearby with the dogs. His arms are crossed and he frowns. Screen reads, Jayland Starvling-Gigantor’s Owner. Cut back to interview.)

  “He was walking them. He let go and the dogs went after the perp and barked and nipped until their leashes became tangled beneath and down they went. It gave my granddaughter enough time to take control of the situation until the local authorities arrived.”

  (Cut to the dogs barking.)

  “Quite the attitude for such small creatures.”

  “Oh, most assured. They may weigh less than ten pounds, but they think they weigh one hundred and fifty.”

  (Shot of interviewee holding dogs. Cut to dogs getting a medal from mayor of Happiness.)

  “Happiness, a senior living community, was so grateful for their assistance that they were named honorary citizens of the community. They were also given special dispensation since you have to be 55 years old or older to reside there. Otherwise, it would be a little over seven doggy years before they were legal.”

  (Cut to seniors petting the dogs, who accept the attention with enthusiasm. Back to interview.)

  “So what’s next for these canine heroes?”

  “Treats. Love. A children’s book, a commercial, and an animated short, but for the most part, just some yard time.”

  “And maybe some more investigational interference in the future?”

  “Oh, you never know. As Sherlock Holmes said, ‘The game’s afoot’.””

  (Cut to Dingle holding Hazelnut. Dog licks his face as he laughs.)

  “Indeed, or in this case, a paw. From Twilight and Happiness. Back to you, Charles.”

  Welcome to the Wedding Reception of

  Hannah Starvling and Hymnal “Hym” Miles

  The Bride & Groom

  Hannah Marie Starvling – Former FBI. Part-time sleuth. Full-time Culinary Consultant/Chef. Cool, calculating, methodical, and distant.

  Hymnal Isaac “Hym” Miles – Former law enforcement. The fiancée of the head chef. Handsome and quick-witted.

  Caterers

  Catherine “Cate” Jordan – Full time librarian. Part-time sleuth. Full time sassy best friend and Maid of honor. Love of Alvin Hayes. Specialty: Knowledge with a hint of sarcasm.

  Sindee “Gran” Starvling (a.k.a. the Gumshoe Gal) – Retired restaurateur. Part-time amateur sleuth. Full time wife and grandmother. Would be great-grandmother. Totally sassy and flirtatious wife of Jayland. Specialty: All things spicy with a large dose of meddlesome.

  Jayland “Papa Jay” Starvling – Retired Navy and restaurateur. Married to Sindee. Full time husband and down to earth, no nonsense grandfather. Specialty: Surly, grumpy, and protectiveness.

  Buster Jordan – The Adonis bodied, Apollo smiling, often clueless cousin of Cate, friend of the head chef, and all around Prince Charming. Specialty: Women.

  Magdalen Miles – Sister of the groom. Independent and curious. Budding investigator. Would be love interest to Buster. Specialty: Charming Prince Charming.

  William Langston ‘Hoo To/Will’ Hooligan – Best friend of Groom. Wedding Caterer and confidant. Specialty: Good old Southern comfort food and practical wisdom.

  Wait Staff

  Henry E. Holmes, M.D. – Amateur sleuth. Knowledgeable. Oddly out of place.

  Sheriff Jackson ‘Jack’ Borden – Curious. Capable. Willing.

  Hazelnut – New member of the Miles household. Opinionated and underfoot.

  Gigantor – Sindee and Jayland’s substitute great grand baby. Loyal. Also underfoot.

  Finger Foods

  Reverend Jonathan Whipson – Head minister at Happiness Medical. Grandfather of Susan. Friend of Gro
om and his sister. Keenly aware. Seemingly good. Served with a hint of a past.

  Susan York - Resident Doctor specializing in gerontology. Wife of Calvin York. Dedicated granddaughter of the Reverend Whipson. Prepared with a hint of murderess.

  Calvin York - Resident Doctor specializing in gerontology. Intelligent, dedicated, and struggling. Husband of Susan York. Served tenuously.

  Father Raymond Janus * et al. - Heir to Reverend Whipson’s position. Cool. Collective. Secretive. Demanding. Served with a hint of terse.

  Jackie Rhoades - The morally questionable custodial engineer for Sunnyvale Rest. He has a connection to the entrée and many reasons to feed him the wrong thing. Served up suspiciously.

  Brother Richard Wessel - Associate of Whipson and Janus. Unpretentious but belying a history. Served accidentally.

  Sweets

  Skylar Marie (nee Wellman) Starvling – Genius, socially awkward mother of the bride.

  Michael Jay Starvling – Genius, socially inept father of the bride. Lover of cake.

  Vera Bessinger – Heiress and bridesmaid. Cluelessly rich.

  Critic – Hound. Ring bearer. Full of licks and love.

  Various other individuals

  Items of Note

  Petit Fours a la Deadly

  Flavors include: Accidental. Intentional. Or murderously attempted.

  *Please Note* These sweet are served tenuously, with a hint of bitter poison.

  Chapter One

  “Twice on Sunday and every Wednesday night,” stated Hymnal “Hym” Miles in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Hannah Starvling finished off the last of a petite four, before looking over to her fiancé. “Your mom was religious?”

  “As if Magdalen and my name didn’t give that away.”

  Magdalen, Hannah thought. She had yet to meet Hym’s younger sister, the thirty one year old nurse living in Chicago. So many people in his life that I have yet to meet. She studied his face for a moment. Grinning, she reveled in the fact that in a scant few weeks she would marry the man. I’ve been looking for you forever, Sweet Face, rolled through her mind. Hannah leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing him to smile.

  Hym turned his black ‘70 Mustang onto the ramp leading from the interstate. At the top, he turned to the right and headed down the road.

  “When are you going to let me drive Baby?” Hannah said. In her mind, she wondered why men had the propensity to name their vehicles.

  “I restored this myself, you know,” Hym answered. “She might not respond well to having another woman in my life.””

  Always a female, Hannah considered. “I didn’t know we were going to have one of those kinds of relationships. Remember, one week and what’s yours is mine.”

  “Vice versus. Does that mean I get to play with your things?”

  Hannah winked at Hym. “All you want, my love. All you want. You’ll look cute in my top hat.” She studied her fiancé as she drew her lips in. ““Come to think of it, you might look right sexy in my teddy too.”

  Both laughed as they passed a sign reading, ‘Happiness 12 miles.’

  “Happiness,” mused Hannah in her smooth, silky voice. “Sounds like a rather pleasant place for a senior retirement center.””

  “Not a center. A whole community,” Hym insisted. “Housing. Golf course. They even have their own, small medical complex. Happiness has no residents under 55. Even the staff lives off site.”

  “Off site where?” Hannah asked, rummaging through the papers in the box for another petite four.

  “Tantalus for the most part. From this side, you have to go through a pass. The only other way out is over the river across a wooden bridge on the other side.”

  The former FBI turned culinary chef frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A senior retirement community next to a town named for the Greek underworld. Someone didn’t think that through.”

  Hym smirked. “Only you would make that connection.”

  Hannah held up the empty box for Hym to see. “These are okay, but not perfect. I think we can do better.”

  “My, my, aren’t we picky?”

  “A girl doesn’t get married every day, you know. I want it to be perfect.”

  The two drove along a few moments more as Hannah considered the trip from Twilight to Happiness. It held dual purpose. First, they were there to meet with the man who would perform their wedding ceremony, Reverend Jonathan Whipson. Second, was to answer a request he made to meet them beforehand. During the phone conversation to arrange the meeting, he spoke with Hannah. “I have something I need to discuss with you, dear. It is of great importance to me,” Whipson had commented. However, he refused to discuss the matter over the phone. Hannah and Hym’s conversation turned to this particular request.

  “He asked to speak to me in person but he wouldn’t say why.”

  Hym stared ahead as a look of consideration came to his face. “Pre-marital stuff, I’d imagine. He’s a traditional kind of Presbyterian clergyman.”

  Hannah again considered Hym’s facial expressions. She could tell he admired the man he referred to as the Reverend. From what she gleaned from conversations with Hym, the clergyman had a profound impact on her fiancé’s life. When Hym asked that he be the one to officiate their wedding, there was no way she would, or even could, refuse. Now, she was on her way to meet him finally.

  Reaching the entrance of the gated community, Hym pulled into the guard station. Hannah watched as a man that she assessed to be in his early sixties, fit, and well groomed, asked to see IDs. After producing them, he smiled at the two and asked them to wait for a second. He stepped back into his station.

  “Tight security,” Hannah noted.

  “Yup, there’s a lot of money floating through here as you can imagine. Privacy is at a premium.”

  “How does a reverend retire here? I can’t imagine a churchman’s salary being that much.”

  “I’ve never given it much thought.” Hym glanced out into the well-maintained area. Manorial homes lined the streets. From where they waited, they could see a centralized park area with old grove trees. People moved about or gathered in groups, chatting. Two seniors on Segways crossed in front of the car. An older woman turned to look at Hannah and Hym, giving a smile and short wave before proceeding on. Hannah returned the same.

  “Jayland and Sindee should move here,” Hym commented.

  Hannah shook her head. “Nah, nothing happening here but golf, shuffle board, and dancing.” She motioned to a sign advertising ‘Ballroom Night at The Center.’’ “No mysteries, no Gran. No Gran, no Papa Jay.”

  The guard returned with their IDs and gave directions to the medical complex. “You’re expected,” he said. ““Reverend Whipson will meet you at reception.”

  After thanking the man, Hym followed the given directions. Along the way, the two passed variations of the housing. They moved beyond the entrance to the golf course, and drove through a small town-like circle with shops. “They’re all run by people living here,”” he commented. He pointed to one of the stores. “That one there. Best fudge ever. All kinds. Other things too. We might want to give their petit fours a try.”

  Hannah acknowledged as she took everything in, amazed. “It’s so self-contained. Maybe Gran and Papa Jay would like it here.””

  At the edge of the community, past all the houses, golf course, and various other buildings, lay the medical complex. It was a huge, gray stone, ivy covered building. A smaller building bordered it on the south. Several smaller buildings clustered around the parking lot.

  “Beautiful,” Hannah commented. She exited the vehicle, pulling on a black leather coat and similar colored top hat. She shivered. “Chilly.””

  “You’re the one who didn’t want to wait till June.”

  Hannah gave Hym a one eyed squint with a twisted mouth kind of look. “You saying you don’t want to marry me now, mister?”

  Hym tipped the black drover’s hat he pulled on. “A thousand pardons, ma’am
, but I’d be just darn pleased if you’d still consider being my lady.”

  Both chuckled and headed toward the entrance, hand in hand. Hannah made sure to walk slower to accommodate Hym’s halted pace with a leg brace and cane.

  Once inside, they made their way toward reception. When she reached the desk, Hannah gave a smile and glanced down at the woman’s nametag. Pepper. She then profiled the woman in her usual manner. 80s. Grey hair. Heavy set. Thick glasses. Polka dot dress. Worn. Looking down at the half-eaten box of sweets beside the woman, she added, Sweet tooth. Hannah made a request to see the reverend. She watched as the receptionist pulled an unsteady, aged finger down a list of names.

  “Oh yes, such a nice man.” Pepper picked up the phone and dialed. After hanging up, she informed Hym and Hannah that he would join them in a short while. They walked to the waiting area and took seats.

  “What does he do here?” Hannah inquired.

  “The usual ministerial duties. Listen. Offer advice. Comfort. End of life counseling in particular. He was there for us after Dad died. When Mom was struggling, he was there too.”

  Hannah listened to Hym’s words, taking them in. Pain and admiration. She squeezed his hand and he turned to look at her. “You considered following him, didn’’t you?”

  A slight, appreciative smile came to Hym’s face as he nodded. “At one time. Up until mom. After that… I don’’t know. Me and the man, we had issues.”

  The man. The words struck Hannah. Not Whipson.

  “Hym,” a voice called. Both Hym and Hannah turned from where they sat to see a man moving in their direction. With him was a young woman who steadied his arm. As they moved in closer, Hannah focused on the man’’s black clothing and clerical collar. It gave him away as Reverend Whipson. 5’9” to 5’’10”. 80s. Balding with grey patches of hair. Pale. Thin. Slight haunch. Thick, hard-rimmed glasses. Pencil thin mustache. Slight yellowish tint to eyes and skin. The last notation struck her in particular. Ill. She gave a smile as she shook his hand. Weak, she further noted. “Thank you for doing this, Reverend,” she said.