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Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series Box Set

Tanya R. Taylor




  LUCILLE PFIFFER MYSTERY SERIES

  Books 1 - 3

  Tanya R. Taylor

  Copyright© 2020 Tanya R. Taylor

  All Rights Reserved.

  No portion of this work may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form without the written consent of the Author.

  This is a fictitious work in its entirety. The author bears no responsibility for any possible similarities concerning names, places or events.

  CONTENTS

  Free Short Story Offer

  Book Four in This Series

  BLIND SIGHT (Book one)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  BLIND ESCAPE - Book Two

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  BLIND JUSTICE - Book Three

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

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  BLIND SIGHT

  Book One

  Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series

  Tanya R. Taylor

  1

  _________________

  Super Vanilla

  I carefully descended the air-conditioned jitney and started down the sidewalk with my cane in hand and Nilla, my pet Shih Tzu on leash at my side. Taking a cab was our preferred mode of transport, but sometimes we enjoyed a nice, long bus ride instead. Nestled on both sides of the street were a number of shops, including convenience stores, jewelry, liquor, antique stores and haberdashery.

  It was the day before my scheduled meeting with the local pet society that, while walking along downtown Chadsworth, I heard a woman scream. The vision of her anguished face flashed into my mind and the image of a young boy dressed in faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt running at full speed in the direction Nilla and I were headed. Gripped tightly in his hand was a purse that did not belong to him; his eyes bore a mixture of confidence in his escape intertwined with fear of capture. He was quickly approaching—now only several feet behind us. In no time, he would turn the bend just ahead and be long gone bearing the ill-gotten fruits of his labor.

  One could imagine how many times he’d done the same thing and gotten away with it, only to plan his next move – to stealthily lie in wait for his unsuspecting victim. I heard the squish-squashing of his tennis shoes closely behind. It was the precise moment he was about to zoom past us that I abruptly held out my cane to the left, tripping him, and watched as he fell forward, rolling over like a car tire, then ultimately landing flat on his back on the hard pavement. I dropped the leash and yelled, “Get him, Nilla!”

  Nilla took off at full speed and pounced on top of the already injured boy, biting him on every spot she could manage – determined to teach him a lesson he’d never forget. He screamed and tried to push her off of him, but a man dashed over and pinned him to the ground. I made my way over to Nilla and managed to get her away from the chaotic scene. Her job was done. As tiny as she was, she made her Momma proud.

  The frantic woman got her purse back and the boy was restrained until police arrived.

  2

  _________________

  The room was almost packed to capacity when I arrived at the podium with the gracious assistance of a young man. As he went to take his seat in the front row, I proceeded with my introduction: “My name’s Lucille Pfiffer—Mrs., that is—even though my husband Donnie has been dead and gone for the past four and a half years now. We had no children, other than our little Shih Tzu, Vanilla; ‘Nilla’ for short.” I smiled, reflectively. “By the way, I must tell you she doesn’t respond to ‘Nill’ or ‘Nillie’; it’s ‘Nilla’ if you stand a chance of getting her attention. She totally ignores you sometimes even when you call her by her legal name ‘Va (vuh)…nilla’.

  “We reside in a quiet part of town known as Harriet’s Cove. A little neighborhood with homes and properties of all sizes. We’re mostly middle class folk, pretending to be upper class. The ones with large homes, much bigger than my split level, are the ones you hardly see strolling around the neighborhood, and they certainly don’t let their kids play with yours if you’ve got any. Those kids are the ‘sheltered’ ones—they stay indoors mainly, other than when it’s time to hop in the family car and go wherever for whatever.”

  I heard the rattle inside someone’s throat.

  “Uh, Mrs. Pfiffer…” A gentleman at the back of the room stood up. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you mentioned the neighbors’ kids as if you can see these things you described going on in your neighborhood. I mean, how you said some don’t play with others and they only come out when they’re about to leave the house. But how do you know any of this? Or should we assume, it’s by hearsay?”

  I admired his audacity to interrupt an old lady while she’s offering a requested and well-meaning introduction to herself. After all, I was a newbie to the Pichton Pet Society and their reputation for having some ‘snobby’ members preceded them.

  “Thank you very much, sir, for the questions you raised,” I answered. “Yes, you are to assume that I know some of this—just some—via hearsay. The rest I know from living in my neck of the woods for the past thirty-five years. I haven’t always been blind, you know.” I liked how they put you front and center on the little platform to give your introductory speech. That way, no eyes could miss you and you think, for one delusionary moment, that you’re the cream of the crop. Made a woman my age feel really special. After all, at sixty-eight, three months and four days, and a little over-the-hill, I highly doubted there were going to be any young studs falling head over heels in love with me and showering me with their attention.

  “Pardon me, ma’am.” He gave a brief nod and sat back down again.

  I took that as an apology. I could see the look on Merlene’s face as she sat in the fourth row from the front. She thought I’d blown my cover for a minute there, but she keeps forgetting that I’m no amateur at protecting my interests. Sure, I sometimes talk a bit too much and gotta put my foot in my mouth afterwards, but my decades of existenc
e gives me an excuse.

  I could hear Merlene scolding me now:

  “Lucille, I’ve told you time and time again, you must be careful of what you say! No one’s gonna understand how an actual blind woman can see the way you do. They won’t believe you even if you told them!”

  Her words were like a scorched record playing in my brain. She got on my nerves with all her warnings, but I was surely glad I was able to drag her down there to the meeting with me that day.

  I tried not to face that guy’s direction anymore, even though the dark sunglasses I wore served its purpose of concealing my blind stare. “Thank you, sir,” I said. “Well, I guess there’s not much left to say about me, except that I used to have a career as a private banker for about twenty years. After that, I retired to spend more time with Donnie, who’d just retired from the Military a year earlier. We spent the next twenty-one years together until he passed away from heart trouble.”

  Someone else stood up—this time a lady around my age. “If you don’t mind my asking…at what point did you lose your eyesight? And how are you possibly able to care for your pet Vanilla?”

  When I revisit that part of my life, I tend to get a tad emotional. “It was a little over eight years ago that I developed a rare disease known as Simbalio Flonilia. I know, it sounds like a deadly virus or something, but it’s a progressive and rather aggressive deterioration of the retina. They don’t know what causes it, but within a year of my diagnosis, I was totally blind. I’m thankful for Donnie because after it happened, he kept me sane. Needless to say, I wasn’t handling being blind so well after having been able to see all of my life. Donnie was truly a life-saver and so was Nilla. She’s so smart—she gets me everything I need and she’s very protective, despite her little size. I’ve cared for Nilla ever since she was two months old and I pretty much know where everything is regarding her. Taking care of her is the easy part. Her taking care of me is another story.”

  Though somewhat hazy, I could see the smiles on many of their faces. The talk of Nilla obviously softened some of their rugged features.

  Mrs. Claire Fairweather, the chairperson, came and stood right next to me.

  “Lucille, we are happy to welcome you as the newest member of our organization!” She spoke, eagerly. “You have obviously been a productive member of Chadsworth for many years and more importantly, you are a loving mom to your precious little dog, Vanilla. People, let’s give her a warm round of applause!”

  A gentleman came and helped me to my chair. The fragrance he was wearing reminded me of how much Donnie loved his cologne. Such a fine man, he was. If it were up to him, I wouldn’t have worked a day of my married life. It would’ve been enough for him to see me every day at home just looking pretty and smiling. His engineering job paid well enough, but I loved my career and since it wasn’t a stressful one, I didn’t feel the need to quit to just sit home and do nothing.

  “Thank you, dear,” I told the nice, young man.

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Pfiffer.”

  Merlene leaned in as Claire proceeded with the meeting. “I told you—you talk too blasted much!” She whispered. “If you keep up this nonsense, they’re gonna take your prized disability checks away from you.”

  “It’ll happen over my dead body, Merlene,” I calmly replied.

  “Mrs. Pfiffer, I must say it’s truly an honor that you’ve decided to join us here at the Pichton Pet Society,” Claire said at the podium. “With your experience as a professional, I’m sure you’ll have lots of ideas on how we can raise funds for the continued care of senior pets, stray dogs and abused animals. Your contribution to this group would be greatly appreciated.”

  After the meeting, she’d caught Merlene and me at the door, as we were about to head for Merlene’s Toyota.

  “I’m so glad you joined us, Mrs. Pfiffer. My secretary will be in touch with you about our next meeting.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fairweather. I’m honored that you accepted me. After all, animals are most precious. Anything that supports their best interest, I’m fired up for.”

  “Did you always love animals?” she asked.

  I gulped. “Well, if I may be straight with you… I hated them— especially dogs!”

  Her hand flew to her chest and a scowl crept over her face. I must have startled her by the revelation.

  “It was after Nilla came into our life that I soon found a deep love and appreciation for animals—especially dogs. To me, they’re just like precious little children who depend on us adults to take care of them and to show them love, as I quickly learned that they have the biggest heart for their owners.”

  Fairweather seemed relieved and a wide smile stretched across her face. “Oh, that’s so good to know! I was afraid there for a moment that we’d made a terrible mistake by accepting you into our organization!” She laughed it off.

  I did a pretend laugh back at her. I may be blind, but I’m not stupid—that woman actually just insulted me to my face!

  “I don’t know why you want to be a part of that crummy group with those snooty, snobbish, high society creeps anyway!” Merlene remarked after we both got in the car.

  I rested my cane beside me. “Because I’ve been a part of crummy groups for most of my adult life. I don’t know anything different.”

  Merlene gave me a reprimanding look. “It’s not funny, Lucille. You dragged me out here to sit with people who, I admit love animals, but they seem to hate humans! I’ve heard some things about that Fairweather woman that’ll make your eyes roll. You know she’s a professor at the state college, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I heard she treats the kids who register for her class really badly. She fails most of them every single term. The only ones who pass are the ones who kiss up to her.”

  “If there’s a high failure rate in her class, why would the state keep her on then?” I asked.

  “Politics. She got there through politics and is pretty much untouchable. I heard she also was a tyrant to her step-kids. Pretty much ran them all out of the house and practically drove the second fool who married her insane. He actually ended up in the loony bin and when he died, she took everything—not giving his kids a drink of water they can say they’d inherited.”

  “I blame the husband for that.”

  “Not when she got him to sign over everything to her in his will when he wasn’t in his right mind. The whole thing was contested, but because she was politically connected, she came out on top. After that, she moved on to husband number three. If I knew that woman was the chairperson of this meeting you dragged me out to, I would’ve waited in the car for you instead of sitting in the same room with her.”

  We were almost home when Merlene finally stopped talking about Fairweather. You’d think the woman didn’t have a life of her own, considering the length of time she focused on this one individual she obviously couldn’t stand. I just wanted to get the hell out of that hot car (the two front windows of which couldn’t roll down), and get home to my Nilla. She’d be waiting near the door for me for sure.

  I wish I was allowed to bring her to the meeting. They claimed they’re all about animals, but not one was in that room. I guess I was being unfair since they mentioned that particular Monday meeting was the only one they couldn’t bring their pets to. That was the meeting where new members were introduced and important plans for fundraisers were often discussed.

  “I’ll see you later, Lucille. Going home to do some laundry,” Merlene said after pulling up onto my driveway. “Need help getting out?”

  “I’m good,” I replied.

  “How sharp is it now?”

  “I can see the outline of your face. Nothing else at the moment. Everything was almost crystal clear in the meeting.”

  “Yeah. Inopportune time for it to have been crystal clear,” Merlene mumbled.

  She was used to my inner vision, as we call it, going in and out like that. I grabbed hold of my cane and the tip of it hit the ground as I
turned to get out of the vehicle. “I can manage just fine. I’m sure it’ll come back when it feels like. Thanks for coming out with me.”

  I smiled as I thought of how much she often sacrificed for me. Ten years my junior, Merlene was a good friend. We had a row almost every day, but we loved one another. She and I were like the typical married couple.

  “By the way, I forgot to mention, my tenant Theodore, told me this morning that someone had called about renting the last vacant room.”

  “Perfect!” Merlene said.

  “Said he was coming by this afternoon. What time is it?”

  “It’s a quarter of five.”

  I had an idea. “Merlene, he’s supposed to show up at five o’clock. You wanna hang around for a few minutes to see what my prospects are? Maybe he’s tall, dark and handsome and I may stand a chance.”

  “I doubt it,” she squawked. “Besides, I must get at least a load of laundry done today. If not, I’ll likely have to double up tomorrow for as quick as that boy goes through clothes! I tell ya, ever since he met that Delilah, he’s changed so much.”

  “Why don’t you leave that boy alone?” I barked. “He’s twenty-seven-years-old, for Heaven’s sake! Allow him to date whomever the hell he feels like. He’s gotta live and learn, you know, and buck his head when need be. You and I went through it and so must he. You surely didn’t allow your folks to tell you who you ought to date and who you shouldn’t, did you? And furthermore, why do you keep calling Juliet, Delilah?”

  “Because she’s just like that Delilah woman in the Bible; can’t be trusted!” Merlene spoke her mind. “And since you asked—why do you call her Juliet? Her name’s Sabrina.”

  I sighed. “You know why I call her that.”

  “I tell ya...she’s no Juliet!”

  “Anyway, you’re gonna wait with me a few minutes while I interview this newcomer or not?” I’d just had enough of Merlene’s bickering for one day.