Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series (Books 4 - 6) Page 8

  “Please have a seat, Mrs. Pfiffer,” she said moments later, as a gentleman she’d summoned came over and guided me to a chair.

  I waited for approximately twenty minutes until the same gentleman returned and accompanied me to the mayor’s office. His office was very spacious and luxurious. And again, all I could think about was my tax dollars.

  Bradley stood up as I entered the room and was being led to a leather seat in front of his desk.

  “Mrs. Pfiffer, it’s a pleasure meeting you!” he said.

  Seemed like he had a cheerful demeanor or it might have been a strong cup of coffee which explained his vigor.

  “The pleasure’s all mine, sir. I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and what you’re doing for our town,” I replied.

  “You mean, you haven’t heard about my nasty attitude and how many times I’ve dropped the ball?”

  I must confess, his admission shocked me. “I’m afraid not.”

  Grinning, he took a seat and straightened his tie. “What can I do for you today, Mrs. Pfiffer?”

  That was the million-dollar question.

  “And just so you know—I like to get straight to the point,” he added.

  That was where the difficulty for me came in on that particular day. “Well, I’ll have you know I’m quite an historian,” I started.

  “Really?”

  “Yes indeed. I…um…discovered during some in-depth research that a tribe of Indians once inhabited Harriet’s Cove and the surrounding area…”

  “Uh huh…”

  “Well, apparently they were enslaved and their land taken from them, and many of them were brutally killed.”

  He was silent.

  “I’m sure there are some descendants of that tribe who are residents of Chadsworth,” I continued.

  “I don’t know about that.” He shifted in his seat.

  “Well, I was thinking since we, as a people, were wrong for such a grave, wicked injustice, we owe these people something—apart from their land, of course.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “An apology, for starters, then we can...I don’t know…erect a monument in their honor.”

  “And why the hell would we do that, Mrs. Pfiffer? And for some Indians who have long passed on. What’s the friggin’ point?” He sounded frustrated already and we’d only just gotten started.

  “You mean other than for the clearing of our conscience?” I replied. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. The people of Chadsworth owe the Indians an apology and the display of some honorable deed. If we don’t do so, the people of Harriet’s Cove and the surrounding area will be subjected to something that will destroy the security of many families. I can’t fully explain right now, but I might be able to convince you that a good many residents of that community would be in favor of what I have proposed to you.”

  “I’m not interested,” he abruptly said.

  “You’re not what?”

  “I’m not interested, Mrs. Pfiffer.”

  “And why not?”

  He cleared his throat. “This town doesn’t have the capital to inject into this sort of thing. The economy isn’t as strong as it used to be.”

  “I wonder how much an apology might cost,” I said.

  He looked at me as if I was stupid.

  “At least, it’s a start, sir. Is it so hard to do? Residents of this town can easily fund the monument.”

  Silence ensued for a few moments. “Mrs. Pfiffer, I admire what you’re trying to do, but I’m afraid I can’t embark upon something like this as I have more important duties to take care of.”

  He clicked a button on his telephone and told someone on the line he was ready for them.

  Shortly thereafter, the gentleman who’d accompanied me to the office was back and Mayor Bradley stood up. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Pfiffer. I have a meeting to attend now. Do take good care.”

  “I don’t know what your problem is, sir, but whatever the reason is for your resistance, I hope you’ll be able to make peace with it. If you won’t help, I’ll just have to go and see the governor.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible anytime soon,” he said. “The governor just left the city for an emergency operation. I have no idea when he’ll be back in office.”

  My heart sank.

  As I headed out of the building with the realization that I no longer had a backup plan, a terrible feeling engulfed me that I couldn’t seem to shake. If I was unable to get Mayor Bradley to change his mind, in six days my beloved neighborhood was going up in flames.

  ~ The End ~

  *** Will Lucille be successful in convincing the powers that be that the request of the Indians must be honored? And how will Merlene react when she finds out that her son’s father had conspired to murder her?

  Also, learn more about Mira Cullen and her psychic powers in the paranormal cozy mystery series: The Cornelius Saga. Yes, Dr. Mira Cullen is a real character in another of Tanya R. Taylor’s bestselling series! A Free excerpt of book one (A Readers’ Favorite Award Winner) is included at the end of this collection for you.

  BLIND FLAMES

  Book Five

  Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series

  Tanya R. Taylor

  1

  _________________

  (Out of the pot…into the fire.)

  The fire had engulfed my house completely; the flames deep red—a disheartening indication that a major portion of the life my husband, Donnie, and I had built in Harriet’s Cove was now gone forever. It was a sickening reality for me to digest and I felt that sense of loss which was present when someone you loved had died. It was more than just a house. It was a place where memories were born, especially of the earlier years when Donnie, Nilla and I had enjoyed every part of that house—the time before I’d lost my eyesight.

  Yet, I’m certain it wasn’t just me that day looking at what used to be my habitat and crying inside because there was absolutely nothing that I could do to save it. My neighbors were feeling that intense sadness too as angry flames had soared through the roofs of every home in Harriet’s Cove. The blaring sirens of fire trucks in the distance were heard, but they were too late. We had all lost everything—including our dignity.

  I immediately sat straight up on the couch, jolted out of the confines of that nightmare. In my mind’s eye, I glanced around quickly, relieved to know that what I’d witnessed within those horrifying moments were not real. I’d drifted off to sleep while alone in my living room, but the thought of what was to come if those Indians weren’t satisfied had hit me like a ton of bricks.

  A mere six days was barely enough time for me to decide whether to travel to Italy or The Caribbean the following year. It certainly didn’t seem like ample time to convince the powers that be in Chadsworth to not allow the wrath of “the silent ones” to devastate my neighborhood! Especially now since Mayor Terrance Bradley practically kicked me out of his office in a most diplomatic way.

  The situation was really beginning to frustrate me. It just wasn’t fair that at my age, I’d have to be dealing with such colossal stress! If people would simply learn to listen to me and not be dismissive when I raise serious concerns, there’d be no need for me to resort to Plan D. Believe me—nobody except me, of course, likes Plan D—the D stands for desperation. I do admit though, that I had no idea in this particular instance what D was going to be, but you can bet your bottom dollar that come hell or high water, I was going to do whatever it took to prevent my house and entire neighborhood from being burned to the ground. For one, Donnie and I had too many wonderful memories in that house; memories I cherished with all my being. And apart from that, there were so many families in our neighborhood that would’ve been negatively impacted by such a devastating deed.

  After I’d left Mayor Bradley’s office, I was crushed, to say the least. Frightened, miserable, annoyed and wanting to take that pompous idiot and teach him good manners. You would’ve thought he wasn’t
speaking to a classy, well proportioned, intelligent senior citizen of this community! When these people get a little bit of power, they forget that when they’re no longer on their high horse, they have to come right back down to earth and deal with regular folk like me. He could’ve rest assured, I’d be waiting to run into him at the grocery store and I could get quite loud and colorful whenever I want to.

  “What are you sitting here pondering over?” Theodore asked when he got home. He dropped his keys on the mantel and sat down across from me on the sofa.

  “Hey. Nothing special,” I answered.

  He gave me that distrusting stare. “Do I look like I was born yesterday, Miss Pfiffer?”

  I returned an irritated look. “When will you ever stop calling me Miss Pfiffer?”

  “Isn’t that your name?”

  “Not to you! I’ve told you repeatedly to call me Lucille, Theodore! My patience with you is running thin.”

  He smiled and I do believe I noticed an affectionate gaze in his eyes. “It’s just the way I’ve been brought up. I was taught to respect my elders, and calling them by their first name wasn’t showing too much respect where I came from.”

  “Ah! I see. Now that explains why you’ve been so headstrong. Well… Theodore, dear, where I’ve come from if an elderly person said to do something, it was respectful and honorable to do it. Catch my drift?”

  This time, he grinned. “Okay...you got me. I’ll do my best.”

  “Repeat after me...Lu….cille.”

  “What?” he grimaced.

  “Are you suddenly hard of hearing, Theodore? Say my name. Come on— you can do it: Lu….cille.”

  “Lucille,” he said.

  “You did it!” I sprang to my feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Upstairs to get ready. I called a cab to take me to the hospital. I’m going to see Merlene.”

  “Why’d you call a cab? I told you I was getting off early today,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind catching a cab sometimes. That way, I get to meet new people and engage in intriguing conversations. Trust me—cab drivers are some of the most fascinating people you’d ever meet!” I told him.

  “Really?”

  “Yes! They’re usually quite friendly and we chat up a breeze the entire drive. ‘Course, a grump might show up at times who isn’t the least bit interested in having a conversation, but more often than not, by the time I’m through with him, we’re bosom buddies and he’s already told me his entire family history and all their secrets. Guess this innocent face of mine has a lot to do with it.”

  “Miss Pfiffer…” He immediately cleared his throat. “Uh, Lucille… you’re something else!”

  “I know.”

  I tiptoed past my beloved Shih Tzu, Nilla, who was sleeping at the bottom of the staircase and went quietly upstairs to get dressed. I smiled to myself as I thought how easy it was to distract Theodore from his line of questioning after he came in. I never wanted to worry the boys, so decided, as usual, to keep the truth from them for as long as I possibly could. Goodness knows, they’ve been hit with enough drama after becoming my tenants.

  2

  _________________

  My ride pulled up in front of the house around 12:30 P.M. Theodore and Nilla saw me off and I waved back at them from the back seat of the yellow cab.

  My driver was a black gentleman who could fit in somewhere within the age range of fifty-five to sixty. He had a bald head, brown eyes and a salt and pepper moustache. Seemed pleasant enough.

  “How are we doing today, ma’am?” he asked.

  “We’re doing fine.” I replied. “How are you, sir?”

  “Oh!” He laughed. “You don’t need to call me, sir. I might be a little bit younger than you.”

  Not another one! I thought. First, Theodore—now him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m big on manners and respect, but I also believe in everyone just relaxing a little and leaving all the titles alone. Sometimes, titles make what could’ve been a smooth interaction seem more rigid and unfriendly.

  “Well, if you don’t mind...you don’t need to call me ma’am either,” I told him. “The name’s Lucille Velma Abigail Pfiffer. You can just call me Lucille.”

  “Okay.” He smiled. “My name’s Cecil Edward Stevenson. You can call me Ces.”

  “I like that name. It’s very nice to meet you, Ces.”

  “And it’s very nice meeting you too, Lucille.”

  Ces and I had the most exciting conversation. He told me he was a World War II veteran (which means I might’ve been wrong about his age range) and that his two sons were currently in the Air Force and his daughter was a marine.

  “Impressive!” I said. “You must be so proud of them.”

  “Yes. Those kids have made me and my wife proud.”

  “How is your wife?”

  He was slow to respond. “Unfortunately, she passed away five years ago.”

  “I have a feeling you miss her dearly. Don’t you?”

  “Only every day,” he replied, solemnly. “I can never love another woman the way I loved her.”

  His words touched my heart. “That’s how I feel about my late husband, Donnie,” I said.

  Ces glanced back at me through the rear-view mirror. He knew I was blind, but didn’t know that I could see him.

  “That husband of yours must’ve been a great guy.”

  “He was.” I nodded. “One of a kind.” It was then that I started to again reflect on the life Donnie and I had built and how we were so happy to be moving to our dream house after we retired. Seems like it was just yesterday when he scooped me into his arms and lifted me over the threshold. He’d done that at every home we’d ever lived in.

  “Are you okay, Lucille?” Ces asked.

  I quickly nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just got caught up in a reverie there.”

  “I know it’s hard to talk about a loved one who’s passed on. Alma was the best wife a guy could have. We had a loving, peaceful marriage—seldom ever argued and we gave our children the best home life we could’ve provided.”

  “That’s really nice.” I managed a half-smile. “Children that grow up in a loving environment tend to do well.”

  “You’re right. Unfortunately, not everyone has had that luxury. I surely didn’t,” he revealed.

  “Neither did I.”

  He glanced back again. “Seems like you and I have quite a bit in common, Lucille.”

  “Seems like we do.”

  We pulled up in front of the main entrance of the hospital and Ces came around and helped me out of the cab.

  “I can find my way,” I politely told him.

  “Are you sure, Lucille? This hospital’s a huge place. Let me at least get someone from in there to help you get around.”

  “I appreciate it, Ces, but there’s no need. This cane of mine has twenty-twenty vision. Don’t worry yourself. Trust me.”

  Ces laughed. “Okay. Have it your way. I’ll be parked right out front here. Ask one of the orderlies to help you over to the cab when you’re ready.”

  “Will do.” I started to walk off. “Why don’t you come inside and get a chocolate bar from the candy machine while you wait? Or even a cup of coffee and donut from the cafeteria?”

  “I just might do that!” He smiled.

  I went ahead and found my way without a hitch to the Private Surgical Ward. A kind nurse accompanied me to Merlene’s room, then quietly shut the door behind us.

  Merlene was sitting up in bed watching a game show when I walked in.

  “Well, look who’s back!” she said.

  “Yep. I’m back.”

  “Missed me, huh?”

  “Sure.” I went over and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then sat down in the armchair next to her bed.

  She looked at me suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound convincing at all, Lucille. You could’ve just said no. What’s wrong with you anyway? You don’t look so good.”

  “Look who�
��s talking,” I replied.

  “I’m not kidding. What’s the matter?”

  The game show on TV didn’t look the least bit interesting. I hated game shows, but Merlene absolutely loved them. “Out of all the channels you have at your fingertips, you couldn’t find something better to watch?”

  “Lucille…”

  “How are you doing anyway?” I asked. “When will they be kicking you out of this joint? I’m starting to think you like it here. Feels like you’re at a hotel, huh?”

  She stared at me. “Ducking and dodging the question isn’t gonna help.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Merlene.”

  “Oh, yes you do, Lucille! This isn’t Theodore or Anthony you’re dealing with. Now, what’s wrong?”

  I shifted a little in my seat. “I came here to see how you’re doing, Merlene, and you didn’t answer my question. Really, I must insist. Otherwise, I will assume I’m not in the right hospital room and that perhaps, you’re an imposter and the real Merlene is being kept somewhere else.”

  “What kind of ridiculous statement is that?” she snarled. “Honestly, I don’t know why I ever hang around you. You sometimes act like a lunatic!”

  “Likewise. I’ve been meaning to cut you off years ago,” I replied. “You can’t possibly be good for someone’s blood pressure. Certainly, not mine.”

  Merlene released a heavy sigh. “Okay, you win this time. I’m feeling much better. According to the doctor, I should be out of here in another week or so, if all continues to go well.”

  “That’s great to hear,” I said, changing the channel.

  “Hey! I was watching that!” Then moments later, she leaned back in her bed. “I see what you’re doing, Lucille. You using the TV as another distraction to make me forget about what I’d asked you. You think you’re slick, but it’s not working. I held up my end of the bargain. Now, you answer my question. I’m not playing.”