The Billionaire Chef Page 3
Ducky drew his face in and asked. “Weren’t you with his wife a while ago? I saw them earlier.”
Hannah confirmed with a nod. “She and my grandparents need a way to the hospital. They’re in the lobby. Can you arrange that?”
Ducky agreed. “I can. What about you?”
“I’ll get there soon enough.” As Ducky turned to head back up the street, Hannah called out, “Make sure she doesn’t see this.”
Ducky affirmed, and then sprinted away, back toward the corner.
Hannah took out her cell and dialed. “Gran, it’s him. He’s alive, but she doesn’t need to see this, not in her condition. So, take her to the hospital. I’m sure the concierge has an idea which one they will take him to.” She looked up in time to watch the paramedic on top of the car stabilizing Elias’ neck. A fireman stood balanced beside him on the roof holding an IV bag as a second fireman stood by with a backboard. Another paramedic pulled a stretcher alongside the vehicle. “Ducky’s on his way. He’ll take you. I’ll be along after,” she added before clicking off.
Hannah sat watching from the curb, slightly away from the majority of the crowd. Several people snapped photos of the scene and Elias, on whom paramedics worked. She frowned in disbelief, and rose to step forward, but the officer, who halted her, intervened. He approached the interlopers and ordered them back. Several verbal protests came forth.
Watching the display, she drifted into investigative mode. She considered possible explanations for Elias’ balcony plunge. Three possibilities, she logged. Accident. Suicide. Murder attempt. All left a distaste in her mouth. The sound of sirens and the ambulance pulling away from the scene interrupted her considerations. So deep in her thoughts, Hannah missed the paramedics loading Elias for transport.
Hannah stood up, eyes following the vehicle speeding away. She wanted to rule out suicide. Not in his nature. Too much to live for, she consoled herself. Nevertheless, as usual, her logic and training caught up to her. Consider all possibilities, she chided herself. Every angle. Painful or not. From this point on, Hannah invested herself in full investigative mode.
The police officer, who grabbed her earlier, walked up to Hannah. She made her usual mental list. First, she took in the officer’s nameplate, which read Bland. She immediately assessed him. Mid to late thirties. African American. Medium build. Average looks. Almost bald. He began questioning her.
“Miss, you knew the victim?”
“Hannah. Hannah Starvling. Yes.”
“His name?”
“Elias Babel.” As Bland wrote down notes, she added, “Where will they take him?” she asked.
Without looking up, Bland responded. “Islands Memorial. They may transport him inland, depends on the seriousness of his condition.”
“I’ve informed his wife, and I have someone taking her to the hospital. She’ll be there when you’re ready to question her.” Hannah pushed her fingers through her hair and looked around. “I need a taxi.”
The officer glanced up. “Thank you.” He studied her face for a second. “You’re calm,” he noted.
“Not my first rodeo,” Hannah replied. She took in Bland’s questioning face and attempted to explain further. “Former FBI. Part of the training.”
Bland nodded and looked around. Scratching his forehead, he asked,. “Your relationship to the victim?”
“A friend.”
“A friend?” Bland questioned.
Hannah looked into the officer’s eyes. In a clear and emphatic voice, she said, “Just a friend. We’re both working the festival. His wife and I were in the lobby with my grandparents when this happened. They’re with her now, and I need to get to the hospital.”
“Well, a few more questions, okay?”
Hannah agreed.
“Did you get here before or after the event happened?”
“After. Again, I was in the lobby with his wife and my grandparents when I heard the commotion.”
Bland eyed Hannah. “And this made you want to investigate, why?”
“I put two and two together. Did anyone else see anything?”
Bland indicated no.
Not surprising, she admitted. Its four stories up, so most people wouldn’t have been looking.
The officer turned back to his notes. “Did you notice anything unusual about his behavior?”
“We never got together. His wife met us in the lobby for dinner, at least we planned to, but I can tell you this. It would surprise me if this turned out to be a suicide attempt.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s a friend. He has too much to live for.” Hannah gathered herself, clearing her throat before continuing. “His wife is six and a half months pregnant. He’s successful, rich and happy.”
“Not to sound cold, but that rules out nothing. People jump for all kinds of reasons, even those who seem to have everything.”
“True enough,” Hannah conceded. She pointed up toward Elias and Janine’s room. Bland followed her path. “But consider the position he landed in and the fact that his room is on the fourth floor.” She played out the fall with her hands. “I’d say he went over head first. The height of the railing alone suggests the improbability that he went over without some help.”
Officer Bland tapped his pencil against his chin. “Given, of course, that it wasn’t a suicide, and he ran toward the balcony.”
Hannah first wiggled her nose and upper lip before she continued. “He would need to be pretty determined to do so. Most suicides pause before they act. To open the door first,” she again pointed to the balcony, “after that, to get a running start? Doesn’t gel. That leaves one possibility.”
Bland stared up for a moment, clamping down on the pencil eraser as he did so. “Huh, what’s his room number?”
“4108,” Hannah responded, dragging her fingers through her hair. “Listen. I understand you have questions, so do I, but I need to get to the hospital. Can I stop by the station later or something? I need to get a taxi.”
“Of course. Tell you what,” he signaled for a young officer to come, “I’m going to wrap this up. How about I send someone to take you to the hospital? You can answer any follow-ups once you find out about your friend. How’s that sound?” The young officer stepped up to speak with Bland.
Late twenties. Thin. Average looks. Red hair. Green eyes. Medium height. Hannah scanned the nameplate on his uniform. Brandon.
Bland ordered the young officer to transport Hannah to the hospital. She thanked him and got into the police car indicated.
While the two officers held a quick meeting, Hannah scanned the crowd, trying to remember the faces. Her training taught her expressions reveal acknowledgment. Not only did criminals sometimes return, sometimes they never left. Instead, they lingered to enjoy the chaos of their work. As she glanced around the crowd, she searched for what she considered to be a mental confession. She mumbled to herself, “One of you knows something. Show yourself.”
Frustrated and upset, Hannah considered giving up, when someone stepped up near the police car. Everyone around held looks of concern, intrigue, and curiosity. His face showed something different. He seemed to take in the whole scene, but showed no signs of urgency about leaving. When she made eye contact with him, the expression in his eyes startled her. Intense anger reflected by way of a stern, menacing look. His eyes glared and his lips curled in. Everything about him screamed of tension and disdain. She cataloged his physical appearance in quick order. Late twenties. African American. Handsome. Large eyes. Appear chocolate brown. Head shaven. Medium height. Slight frame.
Chapter Four
As the squad car pulled into the street, Hannah tried to keep the man in sight, but he turned away. When she turned back in her seat, Hannah once more went over what she saw. She determined she would need the details later as she processed the information.
Along the way, the officer looked over to Hannah, who stared out the window, her nose wiggling. “The questions are just procedure,�
�� he assured.
“I’m familiar,” Hannah replied.
It did not take long to reach Islands Memorial. Once the car parked, he and Hannah exited the vehicle. With the officer in tow, Hannah made her way inside the hospital. She followed the signs to the emergency room. Along the way, she prayed Elias was still alive, but she made a vow. Whatever the reason for Elias’ condition, there was no leaving Gresham until she resolved the matter.
Reaching the ER, Hannah saw Janine, Papa Jay, and Gran talking with a nurse. She approached, she found the nurse to be concluding the conversation. As the woman departed, Hannah turned to Janine and her grandparents. Janine’s makeup ran down her cheeks and her eyes showed redness from crying.
“What’s his condition?”
Papa Jay shook his head. “Not sure yet, they said it will be awhile. Might as well take some seats and get comfortable.” He took Janine by the arm, adding, “Much as we can, given.”
The elder Starvling led the young wife over to some chairs in the corner of the emergency room waiting area. Once they settled, Brandon studied everyone. After a moment, he said, “You know what? I’m feeling the need for some coffee. Can I bring anyone back a cup?”
Hannah let out a breath. “Yes, thank you.”
Everyone agreed to Brandon’s offer, and Papa Jay agreed to go with him in purchasing the drinks. “Be right back,” the young officer said with a smile. He then headed down a side hall with Papa Jay toward a sign indicating the cafeteria.
Janine opened her purse and retrieved her cell phone. “I need to call my dad, if y’all don’t mind. He’s here, but was out and about when…” Her words trailed off as she dropped her head and tears ran the length of her face before dropping to the floor. Gran leaned over and wrapped her arms around the woman as she wept. After a few moments, she wiped her tears and gave a forced smile. “Sorry, that isn’t gonna do nobody any good.”
“It’ll do you good,” Hannah added, taking her new friend’s hand into hers. “You want me to give your dad a call for you?”
Janine indicated no. “Thanks, but best this come from family.” She dialed as Hannah and Gran excused themselves. Hannah watched the conversation play out. Reading Janine’s body language, she found tension, some apprehension, and a lot of frustration. She managed to make out “You promised,” before Janine blew out a heavy, fast, puff of air, “Because I… something, something… them,” Hannah noted on Janine’s lips. The sleuth started filling in potential words and phrases. Because I need them. Because I know them. Because I… I… I don’t have a clue, she admitted to herself. Don’t. I don’t have them!
Hannah stiffened. Her brow furrowed and her nose made its usual sign. Gran, seeing this, turned to face her granddaughter. “Out with it. What did she say that has you going all Einstein?”
Glancing down to the elder Starvling before refocusing on Janine, Hannah pondered. “I think she may have said, ‘I don’t have them.’”
Janine tapped the phone off and closed her eyes for a moment. Hannah and Gran stood by, waiting for the young woman. After some time, she reopened her eyes and waved Hannah and Gran back. After they sat down again, Janine said, “He’ll be here soon. He was out, but nearby.” Hannah noted the tension in her voice, as did Gran, she assumed, given the concerned look the elder Starvling gave.
“Something wrong, dear?” Gran asked.
Janine shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just Dad. He’s on his way. He came along to help guard Elias’ darn truffles, but earlier, he said he needed to step out. He hadn’t made it back and Elias was ready to postpone dinner until he showed up, but I talked him into going on.” She paused and peered at Hannah. “You think maybe this was my fault? If I hadn’t insisted on going out and all…”
“No,” Hannah interrupted, “it’s not. You did nothing wrong.”
Janine gave an appreciative, yet doubtful smile. Hannah could tell she held onto her guilt.
“Does your father usually work security for Elias?” Hannah asked.
“He’s never asked him before, but Elias seemed particular this time, more so than usual. Since he retired, Dad’s been working security jobs, being as he is so big and all.”
The last bit of description caught Hannah’s attention. Large enough for security, she contemplated. How big?
“He used to play ball, you know. Professional. Played for the Birmingham Tornadoes. Linebacker.”
Hannah knew little about football, but Janine’s words caused Gran’s eyes to widen.
“Football,” Gran said with some excitement. “Oh, I love football. Lots of big men. Tight uniforms.” She winked at Janine. “Firm butts.”
Janine gave a laugh which Hannah assumed was her grandmother’s intent.
“Well then, you’re gonna love Dad. He’s in his fifties, but still fit as a fiddle. All muscle. No brains,” Janine said before sighing. “That’s the problem. I shouldn’t say anything, but since you’re gonna meet him soon enough, he’ll tell you, anyway. Dad’s got a gambling problem.”
“Oh,” Gran said in a sympathetic voice, “we all have our crosses to bear, I suppose.”
“Yeah, that’s true. It’s just that Dad’s cross seems to be getting bigger. He can’t stop. He goes to meetings and all, faithfully. Two, sometimes three times a week. But in the past few days…” Janine trailed off and shrugged. “And just now, I could hear something going on in the background. Sounded like a ruckus of some kind. Men doing something. Hooting and hollering. You know, like when what they’re betting on is taking place.”
Hannah considered this new information, and the possibility it presented, did not sit well with her. To her mind, it suggested motive. Janine’s father had a gambling problem. He could have gotten himself into debt with people, who did not sit still if not paid on time. Elias’ mushrooms, being a black-market item, represents quite a sum of money. Her father might have seen an opportunity. He might have feigned the need to be somewhere else, only to return, when he knew Elias and Janine would be out. The gourmet was a man of incredible discipline and a creature of habit. Dinner would be on a specific timetable. Elias being his Son-in-Law, he would know this. All he would have to do was wait until the given time. If Elias did return to the room to get something, and caught the man in their room trying to get to the truffles, things may have gone south fast. So fast the man’s Son-in-Law fell victim to bad timing and an unplanned response.
“What’s your father’s name?” Hannah asked, smiling to mask her suspicions.
“Johnny Wexler.”
“The Twister?” Papa Jay remarked.
Hannah looked up as Gran and Janine turned in their seats to see Papa Jay and Officer Brandon approaching, each holding coffee trays.
“Yup, that’s my dad,” Janine said.
Hannah noted as this was the first time since mentioning the man, she seemed proud.
When they reached where the women sat, they distributed the drinks before sitting. Everyone sipped as Papa Jay recalled seeing Wexler in action.
“Your daddy, now that is one big fella, let me tell you. I saw him the last year he played, must have been--”
“1997,” Janine chimed in.
Papa Jay pointed a finger and nodded. “Yup, last of the bowl games. Tornadoes were up by one. Down to final seconds. Playing the Memphis Fog. They’re on the one, going for broke. Ball snaps and the quarterback drops back, hands the ball to Nixon Sound.” He gestured with every word, acting out every sentence to everyone’s delight. “Runs straight up the middle. Sound is a big guy, mind you, big as your dad, and then it happened.”
Papa Jay paused as everyone sat still, mesmerized by the story. After a second, which seemed an eternity to Hannah, Brandon said, “What? What?”
“BOOM!” Papa Jay said, bursting from his seat, gesturing as if a bomb exploded. Gran and Janine jumped back and Brandon almost spilled his coffee. Hannah smiled, but never moved. It was one of Papa Jay’s football stories and she had come to expect this kind of performance.
“She didn’t jump near as hard as you,” Papa Jay responded with a grin.
“Well,” Brandon responded, “what happened?”
“I stopped him, dead in his tracks. Saved the day. Best game of my career.”
Everyone turned to see a large man with a broad grin standing behind Papa Jay. He then walked over to Janine as she stood to greet him. They hugged as he said, “Hey, baby. I’m so, so, sorry.” Pulling away, Janine nodded.
Hannah sized him up in her usual, quick fashion. At least 6’5”. Bald. Gray goatee and mustache. Blue eyes. Muscled. Imposing. Warm smile. Slight haunch. Stiffening of the knuckles and knees. Likely due to football injuries. She filed everything for later consideration.
A round of introductions and a quick recap of what they knew thus far about Elias conditions ensued. Wexler settled into a chair beside his daughter. Brandon then jumped in.
“I don’t mean to interrupt you folks, especially given all this,” Brandon gestured around the room, “but do you guys think you might answer a few questions?” He asked in a hopeful voice.
Hannah agreed first. He introduced himself again as James Brandon, and this was his first year on the force. Hannah noticed the care he took in detail of all the information everyone provided. He also asked all the obvious questions. All provided contact information and as much detail as possible. However, Hannah answered only to the questions the young officer asked. Everything else, she kept to herself.
She held two reasons for keeping information back. First, she reasoned this town never saw little more excitement than the occasional drunken brawl. It was probable the handling of the case that landed in their lap, would exceed the expertise of the small town police. The second was that in the few years she attended the festival, rumors circulated about the integrity of the local police. Being a border town, Gresham presented itself as a perfect crossing point. Everything from drugs to illegal foods passed through. Yet, local police records showed a general lack of arrests. Hannah often contemplated how Gresham could remain so clean and perfect. It was almost a northern paradise. She wondered if this was due to local law enforcement turning a blind eye. With all the money that flowed through the town at all times of the year, something was amiss to Hannah’s mind.