Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series (Books 4 - 6)

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “Yep...and?”

  “Never mind.” He sighed. “I got your point.”

  Neither Anthony nor Theodore had gotten very far in Glenda’s book. A few pages in, they’d obviously had enough information to satisfy their initial curiosity. I was sure Anthony didn’t get to read the intel on most of the people on our shortlist.

  “Wait until you hear the dirt Glenda had on Reverend Paul Frisca.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s a suspect too.”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s the world coming to?” He went back to reading his paper.

  8

  _________________

  Carla actually had the Batman theme song playing over and over again on CD as we travelled the long, winding road that would take us to our destination.

  “Are you a Batman freak?” Merlene asked her from the back seat?

  “Not at all,” Carla quickly replied. “But I thought it would make good, inspiring music for our latest mission.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Merlene sucked her teeth.

  “Don’t you like it, Merlene?” Carla glanced at her through her rearview mirror.

  “I hate it!”

  “I’m sorry about that.” She then glanced at me over to her right. “Do you like the Batman music, Lucille?”

  “I love it!” I replied—just to get on Merlene’s nerves. I’m feeling inspired already. Let the music play! Can it go a little louder?”

  “Surely can!” Carla said, excitedly, turning up the volume. “Sorry, Merlene!”

  I heard Merlene grumbling.

  “Bat-man! Tuh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh.” Carla and I sang in unison. Reminded me of our last mission when we had to deal with Mayor Bradley on behalf of the Indians. Carla was innovative, for sure.

  Having to investigate my dear friend’s death was depressing as it was, so I figured finding a way to lighten the mood could only help and not hurt us. If Merlene wanted to sit in the back seat and pout, that was her problem.

  “Have you two forgotten Nilla’s in the back here sleeping?” She barked about a minute later.

  “Oops! Sorry!” Carla lowered the volume again.

  I knew that Nilla could sleep through a storm, so a little music would not have bothered her one bit. Merlene knew that too, but since she was trying so hard to get her way, I figured this time, I’d let her.

  “How much longer is it gonna take you to get us there?” Merlene asked. “We’ve been driving for at least forty-five minutes.”

  “Do you know where you’re going Carla?” I asked—just to make sure.

  “Sure, I know where we’re going, Lucille!” Carla said. “Merlene, don’t you bother that little head of yours. Trust me—we’re almost at Amish Village. Remember we’re shifting positions when we get there since you’re the getaway driver.”

  “You make it sound like we’re about to rob a bank,” Merlene replied, dryly.

  “Never mind that. We’ve gotta stick to the plan. We don’t know what we’re gonna face when we get to that community and if we’ll have to come running back to the Suburban.”

  “Whatever you say,” Merlene muttered.

  “I think I understand the precautions, Carla, but the Amish people are peaceful people, so I’m sure we won’t have anything to worry about,” I told her.

  “I’d rather keep my guard up,” Carla asserted. “After all, this Yoder guy’s in Glenda’s black book, so he can’t be that innocent. Can he?”

  “I suppose.”

  We arrived at Amish Village shortly thereafter and immediately, I was drawn to their three hundred acre community. We drove past a few horse-drawn buggies, as well as cars and a couple of trucks. The land out there was vast and used mainly for farming, and the houses were not fancy, but some were rather large compared to the others. I saw many homes with green shades at the windows and others without them. Guess the shades counted for something.

  Walking along the streets were men and women who obviously belonged to the community as the women were clad in modest dresses with long sleeves, full skirts and aprons. Their hair was neatly tucked in a bun at the back and some wore white organza prayer caps, while others wore bonnets. The men had rather long beards, which I understood they allowed to grow after they were married. Their apparel were straight-cut coats, dark trousers and broad-brimmed straw hats.

  The atmosphere in the village was one of serenity that I clearly sensed. These people’s way of living was quaint and simple, and their calm and peaceful nature was etched into the very fabric of the community where even outsiders like me—or the English as outsiders were referred to—could feel it.

  “I had no idea there were such a variety of stores around this place,” Merlene remarked as Nilla jumped over the front armrest console to be with me.

  “You didn’t know that?” Carla said. “Their bakeries are the best! I’ve never tasted a better apple pie than what they sell in the village.”

  “So, you’ve obviously been here before,” Merlene replied.

  “Sure! I drive out here every week.”

  “For what, Carla?” I asked. “This is quite a distance.”

  “For the pastries! What else?” She shook her head, incredulously.

  “Why am I not surprised?” I caressed my baby’s fur.

  “By the way, I’m gonna pull right over here and get some before we go any farther.”

  She veered off to the left into a shopping plaza. “This is the place—believe it or not.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding.” Merlene scoffed. “You’re actually going to stop for pastries before we deal with the matter at hand?”

  “Yoder’s not gonna run away,” Carla replied. “But my favorite pastries could get sold out before we get back if I don’t stop now.”

  She pulled into an empty spot near the front door.

  “You guys coming?” she asked.

  “I’ll pass,” Merlene replied.

  “You go ahead, Carla. Just make it quick,” I said.

  She got out and hurried to the entrance of the bakery.

  “Can you believe that girl?” Merlene griped.

  “Yep.” I sighed. “That’s Carla for you.”

  “She has absolutely no self control, it seems. How can she possibly think of her stomach when we have a serious situation to deal with? How I ever let you talk me into having anything to do with this girl is beyond me. She’s annoying to the core!”

  “Relax, Merlene, before your blood pressure shoots up. Carla’s a bit of an oddball, but she’s a good girl. You just have to be a little patient with her, like I am with you.”

  “I don’t have to do anything, except grow old and die!” she barked.

  I reached into my purse and handed Nilla a treat, which she snatched from my fingers. I wasn’t about to entertain Merlene’s hostility. Sure, being around Carla was certainly not a “normal” experience, but neither was being around Merlene. She seemed even grouchier since she’d been abducted and left to die. I guess that could make a person a bit more ticked off than usual.

  Carla returned to the Suburban ten minutes later with a large, brown paper bag in her arms.

  “What have you got in there? The entire store?” Merlene asked, as Carla set it on the seat next to her. She’d kept a muffin which she started eating right away.

  “No—just my usual. I don’t come this far to pick up a muffin and go, Merlene. Besides, I got a few extra treats today in case you two had a sweet tooth you developed after I went in. Look inside and feel free to help yourself.”

  She went on to tell me the different types of muffins and pies she’d bought and asked if I wanted anything.

  “No, thanks,” I replied. “I’m on a diet as of this morning since Anthony has been overfeeding me, as of late. But when we get back, I might take a couple of muffins for the boys and one for Nilla.”

  “Great!” She smiled, securing her seatbelt.

  The pastries smelt heavenly. I guess Merlene couldn’t resist
the cheesecake she got a bite off right after Carla set the bag next to her. All of that talk for nothing. She was guilty. It’s just like a couple of people going out to commit a crime. One stays in the car as the getaway driver—similar to what Carla had told Merlene she’d need to be—and lo and behold, some innocent person gets shot and killed. Who’d be guilty of the crime? All of them, of course, regardless of who pulled the trigger. So, again, in this case with the mouthwatering pastries, Merlene was no less guilty than Carla was.

  Alex Yoder worked in a woodworking factory where many items manufactured there were sold into the broader Chadsworth community. The Amish people were industrious, despite the fact they resisted modern technology and had nothing to do with electricity and phones. However, they did use solar panels, which I thought made a great deal of sense.

  By the time we pulled up to the factory, Carla and Merlene had finished their pastries and were ready for us to get the ball rolling.

  Carla and I got out of the car and she took Nilla since I insisted that she come along.

  “Come on, Merlene! You gotta get around here!” Carla pressed.

  Merlene opened the door and got out, and grumbled all the way around to the driver’s side. “I’ll have you know that once I get into this seat, I’m not moving until I get back home,” she said.

  “Have it your way!” Carla replied, as we headed to the front door of the factory.

  “That Merlene’s something else.” She shook her head. “There’s just no pleasing that woman. Is there?”

  “Nope.” I agreed.

  Carla, as usual, guided me inside and acted as my eyes, while she kept Nilla at her bosom.

  “You should put Nilla down now, since she’s wearing her leash,” I advised her.

  “No way, Lucille! Not ‘til we’re given clearance. We don’t even know if she’s gonna be allowed in this place.”

  “I’ll have you know that I never take Nilla anywhere she’s not allowed to go.”

  “So, you got permission or something that I don’t know about?” she asked.

  “The permission is unspoken, Carla.”

  “Greetings!” A middle-aged Amish man approached us after we’d entered the dimly lit facility. “I’m afraid no animals are allowed in here,” he quickly added.

  “See what I told you!” Carla gawked at me.

  “Relax, Carla. The good man here is quite confused. Let me handle this.”

  “Thank you for the warm greeting, sir.” I released the grip on my cane only slightly. “I am the Duchess of Windsor and I was told by Mister Aaron Yoder that I can bring along my royal Shih-Tzu to this fine establishment. Will you run along and beckon him to me?”

  I’d used my best acquired English accent.

  The man looked confused. “Oh! Certainly! I will get him for you. Just wait here please.”

  Carla smiled. “You little devil you. I can’t believe that guy fell for it. The Duchess of Windsor, really?” She chuckled. “Lucille, you’re a piece a work!”

  “Told you to leave it to me.”

  A lot of custom-built chairs, tables, and even bed frames of all sizes were practically everywhere. Along two walls stood sheets of wood, and manual cutters and other tools of the trade were scattered throughout the area. The space was approximately five thousand square feet, apart from the other building adjacent to it which was another section of the factory. Several workers could be seen further down from where we were standing.

  A man in his mid-thirties soon approached us. “Good day! I am Aaron Yoder. I was told the Duchess of Windsor is here to see me. Please forgive me for not recognizing which one of you is the esteemed duchess.”

  Carla blushed as she set Nilla down on the floor, keeping her nearby as she held the leash.

  “That would be me,” I told him.

  “What can I do for you today, dear lady?”

  “My good boy, I am here to tell you that Glenda Risdal has sent her love.”

  The kind, mild-mannered expression on his face altered to a more deer caught in the headlights look. “Glenda Risdal, you say?”

  “Most certainly!” I declared. “She has sent her love from the grave since she’s dead and her murderer has not yet been caught.”

  I watched the blood drain from his face and without the slightest warning, he took off in full speed toward the back of the store. For some reason, Nilla escaped from Carla’s grip and ran behind him. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.

  “Let’s go, Lucille!” Carla grabbed my hand and we started running behind them, dodging all sorts of tools, tables and chairs that sat in our path. All eyes were on us as we made our way through the factory, as I guess it truly was entertaining to see a blind, old woman run like that. I don’t think Carla had thought the process through before forcing me to hurry along. If I hadn’t had my inner vision, I was sure I would’ve fallen a dozen times for all the dodging we had to do.

  Moments later, Carla shouted at the top of her lungs, “Stop that guy or we’re calling the police!”

  A couple of men sprang into action and met up with Yoder who’d stopped automatically at the sound of Carla’s voice. Must’ve been the police thing that halted him in his tracks. Nilla charged at him and started biting his pants. I knew she was aiming for his ankle, but we got there just in time and Carla, nearly out of breath grabbed a hold of Nilla again. She didn’t speak a word to me about Nilla taking off like that, not knowing my primary aim for catching up to that guy was to get my dog back.

  I told her to give me my child which she did right away. Nilla was still in charge mode, so the only way to calm her down was to get her off that floor and into my arms.

  “What’s this about?” One of the Amish men questioned Yoder.

  “Nothing! Nothing!” he said.

  “Mister Yoder, we can either speak with you here or somewhere private like right outside,” I said.

  “Okay.” He brushed himself off. “I will speak to you both outside.”

  “I will come with you,” the man offered.

  “No,” Yoder quickly responded. “It is okay. We’ll talk later.”

  Everyone watched as Yoder, Carla, Nilla and I headed for the exit. We stepped outside into the glaring sun and Yoder led us toward the shade of a nearby oak tree.

  “Why did you take off like that?” Carla yelled. “I never had to run so fast in my life! Not to mention the duchess here could’ve gotten seriously hurt!”

  Of course, she was more concerned about the unwanted exercise she got.

  Merlene was looking on curiously from the Suburban.

  “You are not the Duchess of Windsor. Are you?” Yoder asked me.

  “Of course not! I’m the Duchess of Chadsworth! And you didn’t answer this lady’s question. Why the hell did you run? For goodness’ sake, I’m blind! I could’ve tripped over something and gotten seriously injured!”

  “It was the mention of Glenda Risdal,” he admitted. “I heard she was murdered and I just panicked.”

  “For what though?” Carla asked. “People hear of other people getting murdered all the time and they don’t take off running like a bat outta hell!”

  “You’re right.” He crouched down for a moment with his elbows on his knees. “I’m not stupid, ladies. The fact that you came here looking for me and mentioning Glenda’s name means you know something about me. That’s common sense. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. One thing I can say for sure is I had nothing to do with her death. I have an alibi if I’m ever questioned by the police.”

  “We know about the Ponzi scheme,” I told him. “The fact that you, a supposedly pious Amish man, swindled dozens of the English out of thousands upon thousands of their hard-earned money. That’s enough to get to you shunned from this community if the truth came out, isn’t it?”

  “That was a long time ago when I was given the option to live English for a while, so I could choose whether or not I wanted to remain in the Amish way of life. It’s a practice called Rumspringa.”r />
  “You’re a liar,” I replied. “I read, in braille, all about your practices before we came here looking for you and Rumspringa applies to sixteen-year-olds or kids around that age.”

  “Well, he surely ain’t sixteen,” Carla noted.

  “Don’t try to fool us, Yoder, because you’d only be fooling yourself,” I told him.

  He sighed deeply. “Okay…you got me. I’m sorry I lied.” He stood up again. “But the truth is it was a long time ago when I was in my twenties. I lost track and wasn’t so sure anymore that I wanted to remain committed to my faith. I started to crave what other English my age consider the good life—money and lots of it, hot women, nice things—the works. I left the community for a while and did a lot of misdeeds, but I caught myself eventually and threw myself at the mercy of my Amish brothers and sisters.”

  “You threw yourself at their mercy after leaving a catastrophe in your wake with a lot of people hurting,” I exclaimed.

  “Yeah…that’s true!” Carla agreed.

  “I’m not denying that. After Glenda found out what had happened through someone she knew, she got in touch with me and threatened to expose me if I didn’t do the right thing.” He glanced at Carla, then focused on me again. “I’ve spent the last seven years paying those people back every penny I owed. All the transactions were handled personally by Glenda so that my location and true identity would still be private. I just paid off the last person late last year, so I had no reason to kill Glenda. It makes no sense. If you don’t believe me, I can show you all the receipts; Glenda got the signatures of everyone that received their money.”

  This sounded quite strange to me. Either this guy was lying or Glenda forgot to scratch his name off the list or at least she forgot to put the peace symbol next to his name.

  “We don’t believe you, so cough up your proof!” Carla returned.

  She took the words right out of my mouth.

  “Okay. They’re all at my house, just up the road. If you’re driving, you can take me there or I can take my buggy and you can follow me.”