Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series (Books 4 - 6)

by Tanya R. Taylor

  She shook her head worriedly. “Well, we have to go see the mayor and get him to do as they ask.”

  I explained to her that I’d already met with Mayor Bradley and what he’d said about doing absolutely nothing that I’d suggested.

  “We have to get a petition signed with all or at least the majority of the neighbors here in Harriet’s Cove. That might add some weight to what we’re trying to accomplish,” I told her.

  “Great idea! I can get a petition form printed in no time and we can go around to each of the neighbors and explain what’s going on.”

  Suddenly, an idea struck me. “How about we call a neighborhood meeting? It would be less work for us, and even speed up the time in order to get this thing done.”

  “Yes. Makes sense. I have a master list on my computer with everyone’s contacts. Maybe instead of calling each one, it would be better if I send out an email.”

  “Email is good,” I answered.

  Debbie was a founding member of the neighborhood association along with Diane Clover who lived a few houses down from me. Diane’s sons were once suspects in the investigation concerning Merlene’s son’s girlfriend who’d fallen from the balcony of my house during my and Donnie’s anniversary party. Although undoubtedly, it was a traumatic time for Diane and her family, Diane was the same sweet person she’d always been.

  “So, where will we host the meeting?” she asked.

  I was so at home in Debbie’s spacious house, I just had to say, “How about here? If it’s inconvenient for you, we can have it at my house.”

  “I won’t mind having the meeting here. Should I call Carla to help out?”

  “Why not? I’m sure Carla would serve some sort of purpose.”

  Debbie wasted no time getting Carla on the phone. She promised to fill her in whenever she came by. And Carla, constantly yearning for a new rumor she could spread, was at Debbie’s house in a flash. Seemed like the second Debbie hung up the phone from her, Carla was there.

  Debbie quickly filled her in and she too, admitted that she’d been living with strange sounds coming particularly from her attic at night, for years.

  “Why didn’t you ever mention it to me?” Debbie asked.

  “Are you kidding?” I interjected. “You pretty much lied to me until you were blue in the face before you finally came out and told the truth about what was happening around here! So, don’t you get on Carla for not telling you earlier.”

  “I stand corrected,” she said calmly.

  Carla had walked into Debbie’s kitchen and gotten herself a bottled soda out of the fridge. She twisted it open and took a gulp.

  “I guess other than spooked, I was a bit embarrassed to bring up the subject,” she said, sitting down with us. “Willamina Johnson around the corner got committed to a mental institution after she told her folks she was seeing Indians at night. She’d wake up hollering and carrying on night after night until her husband had her committed. Don’t ya’ll remember that?”

  “I had no idea,” Debbie answered. “Was that before we moved here?”

  “Oh, yeah—you guys didn’t show up until two or three years later,” she replied.

  “I remember Willamina, but I heard her reason for getting put in an insane asylum is because she ran down the block butt naked in broad daylight,” I said.

  “That was because she’d been seeing the ghosts, Lucille!” Carla exclaimed. “They caused her to run right out of that shower into the street. She was terrified when she saw them and so many of them, I heard.”

  “Did you believe it at the time? That she’d been terrorized by ghosts?” Debbie asked.

  “I had to!” She arched her brow. “I was seeing my share too. Calling her a quack would’ve meant calling me the same thing. My daughter and I decided we’d keep our odd experiences to ourselves in case someone decided we belonged in the same type of place where Willamina went.”

  Carla was truly a colorful character. She spoke passionately about the things that mattered to her and I kind of liked that—even if the only things she seemed passionate about was other people’s business.

  “So, let’s get this show on the road!” she said. “Time waits for no man. Six days will be gone before we say, Fire Mayor Bradley!”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “We need to work quickly.”

  We decided to call a meeting for the following evening. Debbie sent out the email stating the urgency of the matter, without getting into any in-depth explanation. We asked for a representative from each of the homes to be present. Carla was as eager to get to the bottom of the situation just as Debbie and I were, and it was actually good to have her on board.

  4

  _________________

  After careful consideration of Merlene’s admonishment about the boys, I called a meeting of my own with Theodore and Anthony early the next morning. Nilla was present, at times. She came and went out of the sitting room where I’d broken the news to the boys.

  Even though we all experienced the annoying events of pots and pans being tossed about the kitchen floor and shadow figures racing past us at every angle, I’d never come clean with what Dr. Mira Cullen and I had learned about the Indian tribe that had obviously tried to take over my house. That morning, I did.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Theodore asked.

  “Yeah. Why didn’t you?” Anthony chimed in—both were clearly annoyed.

  “Because finding Merlene was of the utmost importance. Everything else was secondary,” I said.

  “But then, we found Merlene and you still didn’t tell us,” Theodore returned.

  “I have a good explanation for that.”

  “Well...what is it?” Anthony asked.

  For a few moments I looked at them, and then at Nilla who was leaving the room again for the third time. “It slipped my mind,” I finally replied. “I forgot.”

  “You forgot?” There was a look of astonishment in Anthony’s eyes.

  “Have you two forgotten my age? Am I not entitled to forget things from time to time?”

  Theodore shook his head while Anthony’s glare was intense.

  “Lucille, you’ve really got to do better,” Anthony scolded. “We know you didn’t forget, so why try to pull the wool over our eyes like you always do? I thought we were family. Family don’t keep secrets from one another.”

  “You said it, bro,” Theodore obviously agreed.

  “Wait a second here! You boys are acting as if weeks or months had passed since I found out all of this myself! I’d say my record in this instance is pretty good.”

  They were silent and knew I was right. At least, I think so.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Anthony asked.

  “We’re going over to Debbie’s house at six o’clock this evening for a neighborhood meeting and hopefully, the majority of residents will sign the petition she’s prepared. Then we’ll present the said petition to Mayor Bradley,” I explained.

  “What if he doesn’t bite this time either?” Theodore asked.

  “Then I’ll have to resort to Plan D, which I don’t have right now.”

  “Really?” Anthony said. “You have a plan, but you don’t have that said plan?”

  “Yep. That explains it.”

  “You’re something else, Lucille,” he replied.

  I saw the concern on their faces; the look of which I had been trying to avoid. That’s why I didn’t want to mention anything to them ahead of time.

  “Guys… you should know from the past drama I’ve found myself in that Plan D always shows its face sooner or later. So relax. Leave it to me.”

  They looked at each other, then back at me.

  Theodore shook his head again, but said nothing more.

  “Since that’s settled, let’s get that coffee brewing before Nilla and I go for our walk!” I smiled.

  Even though I smiled, it was my way of making the situation seem lighter to them, but inside, I was really worried. I needed Plan D to rear
its ugly head just in case what Debbie, Carla and I endeavored to do did not work.

  Nilla and I headed out for our morning walk. The weather was cool and I could smell the dew on the grass and loved it. Nilla was her happy, fun-loving self, stopping every so often at the side of the walk to inspect something on the ground. We passed Robert and Diane Clover’s house and as usual, their pit bulls played the fool the moment they spotted us.

  “Lucille!” Diane waved from the front door as she usually did whenever she heard her dogs barking at us.

  I waved back in her direction. “Is that you, Diane?” I asked.

  None of my neighbors knew I could see them, as I continued to walk about with my cane everywhere I went.

  “Yes, it’s me…” she sang. “Nilla! Hi!”

  Nilla couldn’t care less. She continued her inspection of the sidewalk in front of the Clover’s yard.

  “Are you coming to the meeting tonight?” I asked Diane.

  “Oh, yes! I won’t miss it.”

  “Great! See you later then. Have a beautiful day.”

  “You too, Lucille. Bye!”

  Yes, Diane was a breath of fresh air in our neighborhood. If most neighbors were like her, I’d be interested in having them over for coffee or hors d’oeuvres periodically. Diane came to my house several times, but her visits were often short since she had this or that to do for those two spoiled brats of hers who seemed to barely lift a finger around the house.

  Nilla and I carried on, enjoying our relaxing stroll, although subconsciously my major task at hand was right there trying to rob me of the moment. We arrived at the bend where the late Luke Tucker’s house stood unoccupied. Every time I walked past there, my mind would drift on that day Merlene and I saw his body dragged over to the shed at the side of his mansion—the day she and I had snuck inside to conduct our illegal, but necessary investigation for clues in his grand-uncle’s murder decades earlier. It was saddening to know how they both lost their lives at the hands of another—each a victim of an ungodly conspiracy. I’ve seen so much in my days and still the depth of human deception never ceases to amaze me.

  “Hey, Lucille and Nilla!” Mike Drummond hailed, scooting past us on his bicycle. He was a cyclist who’d only moved into our area three years earlier with his partner, Birch. Mike was a kind, bubbly guy, but Birch seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. I never understood how the two ever got along—at least, in public, they did. Anyway, it was none of my business. Carla had a field day talking about the couple shortly after they’d purchased their home—not because they were gay, but because she’d heard that Birch was married and had walked out on his wife and stepson.

  “Hey!” I waved, though Mike was long gone.

  He never slowed for a response; neither did he seem to expect one. Probably had to do with the fact that I was blind. Even so, it didn’t mean that I was deaf. In all fairness though, I couldn’t expect the guy to wait around for anything, considering the speed he was traveling up the street. I’d heard he won a lot of his races and it was obvious why he did.

  By the time Nilla and I got back home, she was ready for breakfast and so was I. Anthony had her plate of roasted chicken, rice and vegetable flavored bites in her favorite spot near the kitchen waiting for her and I could smell the veggie omelette he was cooking from the moment I’d hit the door. That day, Anthony didn’t have to rush off to work afterwards since there was no work for him to go to. I was really proud that he finally stood up for himself and got rid of those leeches from his life. I was confident that he’d excel in anything he put his mind to, including this new entrepreneurial venture he was embarking upon.

  “Had a nice walk?” he asked.

  I could tell he was still a bit annoyed with me, but figured he’d get over it in time. Furthermore, I suppose the possibility of not having a roof over your head in a few days was enough to make anyone rather worried. He and Theodore had come to find security in my house as tenants. However, I’m sure they were more concerned for me because they knew they could move on and find another place to live, but this house meant much more to me than it could ever mean to them.

  “Yes, we did, Anthony.” I sat at the table. How does it feel not having to go to work today?”

  “I feel free!” He cracked a smile, which I was glad to see. “I have to get busy starting my business though.”

  “You have plenty of time for that,” I said as he brought a glass of orange juice over. “Take a couple of weeks just to relax and enjoy your me time, then dive into the business thing full force.”

  “You know…that’s a good idea. I’ll do that.” He headed back over to the kitchen to dish up the food.

  He and I sat and chatted over breakfast. I’d expressed to him how I wished we would’ve had the meeting earlier that day, which was impossible since many of our neighbors had to go to work. My issue was the fact that the clock was ticking by and time was of the essence.

  5

  _________________

  Debbie had ordered a large tent for her front yard in case it happened to rain during the meeting. The turnout that night was good and everyone, anxious to know what it was all about, took a seat in the chairs provided under the tent. Though Debbie’s house was large enough to fit everyone, she decided it was best to have the meeting outdoors. Debbie, her husband Gary, Carla and I sat behind a long table that had been placed up front.

  After Gary, who I was glad to see had joined the cause, had gotten everyone to quiet down, Debbie commenced the meeting. Diane and Robert Clover sat in the front row, and Theodore and Anthony were seated next to them.

  Debbie stood up. “Thanks all of you for coming out tonight on such short notice. This meeting is one of the most important meetings we could ever have as a community,” she started.

  I noticed the expression on the faces of those seated among the crowd. There was a look of curiosity, for the most part, and on other faces, I saw concern.

  “Since Miss Lucille Pfiffer was the one to bring this matter to my attention, perhaps, she should tell you exactly what’s going on,” Debbie continued.

  “I’d be happy to.” I leaned forward toward the mic that had been set before me. “I know some of you folks have kids at home that are probably already getting into things they shouldn’t, so I’ll get straight to the point. Our beloved Harriet Cove has been threatened…”

  “Threatened how?” Joe Valesca cried out from the middle of the tent.

  “Give her a chance to explain!” Gary gestured with his hands.

  Joe Valesca was one of those guys who thought he was better than most. I guess he could be labeled a narcissist. I admit, he was fairly good-looking and made a good living selling cars, but he was hardly intelligent, to say the least, and the type of person I had very little patience for.

  “Thank you, Gary,” I said, glancing his way. “Before I explain exactly how our neighborhood has been threatened, I need to ask all of you a very important question and your honesty in this matter will likely make the difference in whether or not we’re able to save this neighborhood.”

  “What is this about, Lucille?” Lucy Barr, the oldest Harriet Cove resident asked.

  Lucy was eighty-nine years old, but didn’t look a day over eighty. She was mild-mannered and pleasant, but didn’t believe in having guests over to her house. She was superstitious like that. Carla had said Lucy believed that people left “things” behind after moving from place to place. She believed Lucy thought these things were remnants of bad or good energy and because she didn’t know for sure what each person had, she didn’t take a chance inviting them into her house. She and her husband, Tom, lived a very quiet, reserved life.

  “You’ll find out soon enough, Lucy,” I said.

  I looked straight ahead at the crowd. “Do any of you experience or have experienced paranormal activity in your home?”

  Some of them looked at me cross-eyed while others glanced at each other. There was some murmuring among them, then one woman said: “Par
anormal activity? You mean like ghosts?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  I could tell Debbie was holding her breath, not literally, but same effect. I knew she dreaded the responses we’d get.

  “Let me start off by saying, I have experienced paranormal activity in my house for years,” I continued.

  “So have we,” Gary added, much to my satisfaction.

  “Us too,” Diane Clover said.

  And more and more affirmative responses came in that gradually put a smile on Debbie and Carla’s face, as well as mine. Then Joe stood up.

  “Well, I haven’t experienced any paranormal activity or whatever you call it. This is all hogwash!”

  Some residents denied having any such experiences, and I didn’t know whether they were lying or telling the truth, but I needed to get to the next and other important step that needed to be covered.

  I went on to explain the request of the Indians and their accompanying threat. Also, that we’d prepared a petition for everyone to sign which we’d then take to the mayor. And that’s when Joe, another guy named Dick Warren and a snob of a woman we knew as Barbara Deleveaux—which could be her alias since we suspected she was an undercover criminal with ties to the mafia—pretty much told us to go jump in the lake and that they were leaving.

  “It’s all hogwash!” Joe hurled again on his way out.

  Gary looked our way and shook his head. “Let them go,” he said. “The rest of us will fight the good fight.”

  Several other people joined the idiots that walked off and thankfully, that group was nowhere near the majority. Debbie looked somewhat disheartened, but we’d all expected the reactions we witnessed. We knew our neighbors.

  “So, does that mean the rest of you are willing to sign the petition for the mayor?” Debbie calmly asked.

  She received a resounding “Yes!”