She picked up on the first ring as if she was expecting that long-awaited call from someone she had a thing for. Certainly, that was not Merlene’s reality since she no longer expressed an interest in any type of romantic relationship.
“Are we dating or something?” she asked right away. “Didn’t we have lunch earlier today, Lucille? How much of me do you need?”
Must’ve noticed my number on the caller ID.
“You tell me,” I replied. “You’re the one who answered on the first ring.”
She sighed and I sucked my teeth.
“Anyway, I didn’t call you for regular chit-chat, Merlene. I need you to stop whatever it is you’re doing and get over here. I’ve got something to tell you.”
She sighed again. I was really getting tired of her negativity.
“What’s this about, Lucille?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here.” I said and hung up the phone.
There was a knock at my bedroom door.
“It’s me.” Theodore looked in. “Carla’s here.”
“Carla? What the hell does she want?” I asked, annoyed. I was in no mood for gossip at a time like this; there were more important things on my mind. Could always catch up on the gossip later.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Brittany’s with her.”
It’s a good thing I liked that daughter of hers. Otherwise, I was politely going to tell Theodore to let her know I was sleeping. I was sure one white lie wouldn’t have gotten me kicked into the fiery furnace—at least I hoped not.
“Okay,” I muttered. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
I took my own slow time getting down there to Conniving Carla. She was sitting on the couch looking partly pretty and smiling as I descended the staircase.
“I was told I have visitors.” I used my probing cane quite tastefully, although I didn’t need it. Thank my lucky stars!
“Lucille! It’s me and Brittany,” Carla answered in her usual, cheerful tone of voice.”
“Hey, neighbors. What brings you here at this hour?”
I saw the look Brittany gave Carla as if she’d told her not-so-bright mom not to bother coming here after eight o’clock.
“We’re sorry to bother you so late, but Brittany’s working on a special project for school and she needs a picture of a cute little dog to attach to her introductory page.”
“Yes, Miss Lucille. I meant to come by earlier, but it slipped my mind,” Brittany said. “I was wondering if I can take a snapshot of Nilla for the project.”
I took a seat on the sofa. “Oh, I don’t mind at all, dear. It’s just that Nilla’s not here now. Anthony’s leaving tomorrow to spend a few weeks with his folks in Tulsa, so he took Nilla with him to visit a friend. Not sure when he’ll get back.”
“That’s too bad,” Carla said, glancing at her daughter.
“Yeah. I guess.” Brittany sounded a bit disappointed.
“But tell me something…” I crossed my legs, “…isn’t this the technological age we live in?”
They both gave me a puzzled look. I wondered what world they were living in.
“Couldn’t you easily get a picture of a cute, little dog off the internet, dear?” I added.
“Oh, yes!” Carla giggled like she was nine. “See, the thing is…Brittany’s photo has to be of her real dog… the one she’d have to take to school with her later in the week.”
Now, that sack of bull she uttered, boggled me.
“Come again, Carla…”
“I mean, Brittany has claimed that she owns a dog—a little Shih Tzu named Vanilla and the teacher requires the students to bring their pets to school on Friday, after she’s had a chance to look over their projects. Bringing the pet counts as half of the overall grade.”
Brittany sought to better explain. “Uh...see…I could’ve selected a project based on something else since I really don’t have a pet. But I sort of felt out of place when everyone else—practically ninety-nine percent of the class—had chosen the pet project. So, I kind of…”
“Lied,” I helped her out. “You lied to the teacher by telling him or her that you have a pet at home. Isn’t that right?”
Carla suddenly looked quite uncomfortable sitting there.
“I guess so,” Brittany lowered her head.
“Well, I guess I can’t really come down too hard on you, dear because it’s not like I haven’t told a white lie or two myself. But I wonder if you think Nilla is some sort of toy or something that can be handed around like it’s no big deal.”
“No! Not at all, Miss Lucille!” Brittany exclaimed.
“Do you realize she is my only family, aside from Theodore and Anthony, who are technically just tenants of mine?”
“I do,” the girl replied.
“Do you know how many people hand over their pets to others and that pet never returns home because some idiot has stolen it?”
No reply.
“And you think based on all of that, that I’m dumb enough to allow Nilla to go to your school and be dribbled on by a class full of kids who probably don’t even wash their hands after using the toilet? Absolutely not!” I uncrossed my legs. “Young lady, you’d better find some other animal to take to class. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time waiting until the last minute to come to me with this.”
Carla looked at Brittany and arched her eyebrows. Brittany shrugged as if she had no idea of what to do next.
“If that’s all, I’m going to be tied up in a minute,” I said.
“Well, you surely told us!” Carla responded. “We’re sorry to have bothered you, Lucille. And you’re right—it’s all a last minute rush. Brittany shouldn’t have waited this long to ask you.”
Yep...she threw her own child under the bus.
“And you should’ve taught her that if she’s going to lie, to make sure she’s covered all the bases so she wouldn’t be caught in the lie,” I frankly stated. I know I was wrong in a way, but I felt Carla should’ve borne some of the responsibility too. “Now, her teacher is going to find out the truth unless Brittany here starts all over with a new project.”
“I can’t do that,” Brittany spoke softly. “Once we’ve made our selection in class, we can’t change it.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” I replied. “I hope your teacher shows some mercy.”
Just then, I heard jingling of keys at the front door.
“Hello, everyone!” Anthony walked in with Nilla in his arms.
Obviously, he was in a very good mood. I suppose anyone would be thrilled to know they’d be away from work for a few weeks, especially when those guys handled you like a slave. Anthony was the best computer programmer his company had and still he was being passed over for promotions time after time. If it was me, I would’ve told them what they could do with their job, but Anthony’s too bloody nice. I always told him that.
Carla and Brittany hailed Anthony and once she hit the floor, Nilla wasted no time running over to the teenager. The two were like old pals.
“Hi, cutie patootie!” Brittany started massaging behind Nilla’s ears. My dog loved that and those oh so sweet belly rubs she stretched out for every morning, and after waking up from a nap.
“Where’s my girl?” I asked, knowingly. I couldn’t act as if I actually saw them. If Carla found out about my inner sight, I’d be sure to kiss those disability checks goodbye. Not because she’s vindictive, but because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut!
“She’s right here with me, Miss Lucille,” Brittany said.
“You guys are out sort of late, huh?” Anthony observed.
“They were just leaving,” I answered for them.
“Yes, we were,” Carla said as she and Brittany got up together. Nilla then dashed over to me and I lifted her onto my lap.
“Well, goodnight, y’all.” Carla headed for the door.
Brittany said goodbye and just as she was walking out the door, I stood up. “Wait a second!”
She and Ca
rla stopped in their tracks. Anthony had already disappeared around the bend toward the TV room where Theodore was at.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” I proceeded in their direction. “I will allow you to go ahead with this charade of yours, but I will bring Nilla to your class myself. Just let me know the time. And you tell that teacher of yours that she can only stay for a few minutes because your blind grandma has to take her to the vet—which means I’ll be waiting right outside that classroom door for you to hand her back to me, got it?”
Carla and Brittany smiled.
“It’s a deal!” Brittany said, cheerfully. “Thanks so much, Miss Lucille!” She reached over and hugged me.
“Okay, go ahead and take your snapshot. I’ll show you Nilla’s cute side.”
As they were about to leave, Merlene walked in and immediately, I sensed the uneasiness in the air. Carla had still been avoiding Merlene like a plague ever since she’d pretty much implicated Merlene’s son David in his girlfriend’s death. Thankfully, I’d convinced Merlene not to let loose her violent side on pretty, puffy Carla—at least, I think I did, anyway.
“Oh, hi, Merlene!” Carla said, rather nervously.
“Carla.” Merlene’s reply was rigid.
“It’s good to see you again,” Carla stupidly said.
Merlene only looked at her and if those tired eyes of hers were sharp enough, I was sure they would’ve sliced Carla into a trillion pieces.
Merlene sat on the couch as they proceeded to leave. Nilla had taken off to the TV room with the boys and shortly thereafter, I heard Theodore’s usual scream. We all knew what it meant: Nilla had those juicy toes of his again. She was even more drawn to them when they were snuggled in those nice, thick, white socks he liked to wear. She loved to try and pull them off of his feet.
“I thought you’d put all of that behind you.” I joined Merlene on the couch after shutting the front door.
“Did you see me go off on her, Lucille?” she replied, sharply.
“No, you didn’t go off on her, but you weren’t friendly either. You still have that woman shaking in her boots.”
“And rightfully so! She’s lucky I didn’t clobber her!”
“Now...now. Let’s stay civil, shall we? The least we can do is act like we have some class.”
Merlene sighed heavily. “Why did you invite me over here at this hour, Lucille? You said you had something to tell me.”
“Yes, I do, but not here.” My mind’s eye led me to the TV room where the boys were watching television and downing a couple of Sprites. “They’re right in the other room, so follow me upstairs.”
“No. You follow me, old lady,” Merlene replied. “I know the way.”
She’s lucky I was a patient one. Her feistiness sometimes got a bit out of control.
I followed her upstairs to my bedroom and eased the door shut behind us. We sat at the foot of the bed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Don’t raise your voice, Merlene. If I wanted extra ears on this conversation, we could’ve stayed downstairs.”
“Okay,” she whispered loudly. “What’s top secret?”
I shifted to a more comfortable position. “While I was reviewing the info we collected from the Archives, I came across the name Harry James Tucker. Does that name ring a bell?”
Merlene thought momentarily. “Harry Tucker? No, I can’t say that it does.”
“Well, it turns out that he was Sir Clement’s older brother. According to the article, although they apparently had no bad blood between them, they were estranged.”
Merlene grimaced. “Does that even make sense? How can you be estranged if there’s no bad blood between you? Seems like a real life oxymoron to me.”
“Me too,” I agreed, “But listen…he was not implicated in the murder.”
“Should he have been?” Then Merlene’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait! Are you saying you believe Sir Clement’s own family was involved in his death, Lucille? His own brother?”
“I’m not sure, but I have a hunch something’s going on that’s been sort of swept under the rug,” I told her. “And I’m thinking maybe we need to go and have a little peep under that rug to see what we can find.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Merlene, what I’m trying to show you here is that the only mention of the brother—this Harry guy—was that he was visibly in a state of shock after hearing the news of Sir Clement’s murder. Nowhere in the reports did I find where Harry was questioned.”
“Why would he make the news just because he was visibly shocked?” she asked me. “I’m sure a lot of people could’ve been reported as visibly shocked after they heard the news.”
“Good point, but he made the news because after learning of the tragedy, he actually collapsed at the textile plant where he worked and was rushed to the hospital. Apparently, he was the only brother that wasn’t really well off. Alfred, Sir Clement’s other brother, who’s Luke Tucker—my majorly absent neighbor’s grandfather—reportedly scoffed at the fact that Harry, their brother, had been hospitalized after learning of Sir Clement’s death. If there was any bad blood, it seems that there definitely was between Alfred and Harry. Alfred and Sir Clement had always been close. I remember when they showed up together at a charity ball Donnie and I had attended. Although he lived in England, Alfred regularly flew into Chadsworth to visit Sir Clement.”
“Was Harry in Chadsworth at the time?”
“No. It was reported that he was in Manchester, England when Sir Clement died,” I replied.
Merlene was obviously trying to make sense of what I’d spewed out to her.
“If he was in Manchester at the time of the murder, why are we even wasting our time focusing on this guy?” she barked. “What could he possibly have had to do with the investigation?”
“That’s where the rug thing comes in?”
“Excuse me?” That ugly grimace of hers again.
I leaned over and whispered. “We have to get into Luke Tucker’s house down the street there and find out if he knows more than anyone ever thought he did.”
“And, pray tell, how are we supposed to do that?”
“Leave it to me.” I glanced up at that fine gentleman who appeared to have walked straight through my bedroom wall. I knew Sir Clement had shown up just in time to offer a bit of assistance in his own special, quiet, non-talkative, terribly annoying way. As usual, he just stood there, arms crossed in front, like a statue.
“Come pick me up on Friday at eight-thirty. We’re going to take Nilla to Brittany’s school, then we’re going to break into Luke Tucker’s house.”
“He’s still away?” she asked.
“Yes indeed.”
“But how do you know when he’s coming back?”
“I don’t.”
“Suppose we get caught?”
“We can’t worry about that, Merlene. Sir Clem here seems rather anxious, so we’d better get it done.”
Merlene slowly looked behind in the direction of my gaze.
“He’s here?” she asked, fearfully.
“Isn’t he always?”
I cherished that frightened look on Merlene’s face. Inwardly, I was laughing myself to tears.
Sir Clement didn’t look very happy though. I had a hunch he really wanted his own murder solved. I often wondered if he knew who did it to him and if so, why he couldn’t just tell me—anyone for that matter.
2
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The early morning traffic en route to Brittany’s school was a pain in the rear end. She was lucky I gave two hoots about her failing that rushed-up, last minute project of hers. I try to go a little easier on the child, but Carla is another story—that Carla. Anyway, I absolutely hated getting caught in traffic; I’ve had my fair share of cussing at the inattentive drivers when I suffered the snail-like commute to work years ago. My sweet Donnie rarely ever heard me utter a cuss word. I was too much of a lady, as far a
s he was concerned. I just loved how he’d constantly put me on a pedestal around our friends and family and I really missed that. The funny thing is, I’d never heard the man even blurt out the word damn.
He was such a gentleman in every sense of the word. But then again, I was well aware he could’ve put on an amazing act—probably cussing like a sailor whenever I wasn’t around just like the occasional, daily outbursts I’d had in traffic. That’s just like a man who’s so sweet and charming, doting on his wife, then when he’s clear out of her sight, he’s mister lover boy to all the other girls who’d give him the time of day. I wondered if in any marriage, the couple knew every single side of each other or if everyone were actors in their own right. I knew I put on my share of acting in front of my Donnie. He was almost cherubic, so I hadn’t much of a choice than to be that lady he only knew me to be. I guess, in our case, whatever we pulled off with regards to each other obviously worked out well. We had a beautiful marriage.
I heard Nilla bark—not in an aggressive manner, but in her own semi-assertive way when she wanted some sort of attention.
“She’s doing it again,” I said to Merlene. In my mind’s eye, I could clearly see Nilla standing boldly on her hind legs in the backseat leaning forward against my chair. It was her way of telling me she wanted to sit up front with me. The only problem with that was, she thought it was perfectly fine to climb all over my chest and anyone with a good pair of eyes or sharp inner vision such as myself—when the inner vision didn’t take off and leave me stranded for a while—could see that this old lady couldn’t take the weight of a grown dog climbing all over her chest and trying to even get up on the shoulders. What the hell did she think I was? I love her, but not enough to let her put me in an early grave or nursing home.
Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series Box Set Page 20
