“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “Go and get them and we’ll be waiting in the nice, big, white Suburban in the parking lot.”
“It’s right over there.” Carla pointed.
“Okay. I’ll go get the receipts,” he said.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes max,” I stressed. “If you’re not back by then, we’re going to the police and will show them the dirt Glenda had on you so they can add you as a suspect in her murder investigation. They’ll certainly be able to see the motive, which was to silence her once and for all. Must I explain how all of this would ruin your life?”
“I’ll be back in ten,” he replied, hurrying over to his horse-drawn buggy.
“Good thinking, Lucille!” Carla slapped my shoulder seconds later. “He just took off in his buggy.”
“His buggy? He probably lives really close by if he says he’s going to be back in ten minutes.”
“Yeah…probably. Let’s go sit and wait with Merlene.”
With Carla now sitting with Nilla in the back seat directly behind Merlene, we told Merlene the entire story.
“You were wise not to agree to take him, neither to follow him,” Merlene said. “After all, none of us knows if he’s a killer and what he might have had in mind to do once he got us to wherever he claims his house is at.”
“That’s the way I saw it,” I replied. “He’s got a slick tongue, but not slick enough.”
“Good job, Nilla!” Merlene smiled at her. “He should’ve landed face forward so you could’ve bitten him on the butt!”
Carla laughed. “That would’ve been something!”
It seemed like a miracle when Yoder returned to the parking lot ten minutes later, then appeared at Carla’s window.
“Here’s everything.” He handed her a stack of receipts. “Look at all of them. There were twenty-six people who’d given me money and I have all of their signatures there in black and white acknowledging that I had paid them back in full. And Glenda’s signature is there too.”
“My golly…” Carla said as she carefully reviewed each receipt. “Seems cut and dry to me. And I can’t dispute Glenda’s signature either. I remember that one good—she had it since we were in high school.”
I saw the receipts in my mind’s eye and they appeared authentic.
“If you’re satisfied with them, Carla, give them back to him in case he needs them again anytime soon,” I said.
She handed them back to him.
“So, you see, I was telling the truth. I did a bad thing to a lot of people, but Glenda helped me to make things right. I had no reason to want her dead. In fact, over time, I started to appreciate her more and more because she could’ve given me up to the law, but she protected me once I agreed to do the right thing,” Yoder explained.
“Why the hell did you run then?” Merlene asked out of the blue. “Innocent people don’t run like I heard you did! You might’ve fooled them, but you don’t fool me.”
“Easy, Merlene,” I said. “We’ve already established the guy was scared and just did a dumb thing.”
She glared at him. “Well, you sure are lucky I wasn’t in there because if you’d made me chase you down like that, when I caught up with you, I would’ve thrown some blows your way for sure and all the talking would’ve been for later.”
Yoder grinned nervously, inching away from the vehicle. I think he sensed a violent streak in Merlene. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I must get back to work now,” he said.
“Go ahead, Yoder,” I replied. “If there’s anything else, we know where to find you.”
“Okay, thanks!” He stashed the ball of receipts into his pocket and went back inside the factory.
Carla reached into her bag of goodies and stuffed another cupcake into her mouth. “Well, this trip wasn’t a complete waste. At least, I got my pastries.”
Merlene started the car, backed out of the parking space and sped out of the yard—so much so that the cupcake Carla was eating almost dropped out of her hand.
“Cool it, Merlene!” She yelled. “I paid good money for these.”
I knew, Carla knew and Merlene knew that Carla’s main concern was not losing money. The cupcake escaping her mouth was far more valuable to her.
Before long, we’d left the Amish Village far behind and were back in town where, to me, the atmosphere was notably different from that of the village. I found it amazing how distinctly obvious that was to me. However, although Chadsworth had its own issues that publicly sprang up from time to time, it was our cozy, little town that we all loved and would do whatever it took to protect.
“So, what now?” Carla asked.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, right?” I returned.
“Yep.”
“Then, it’s time to see the reverend.”
“Oh, yeah!” she said, excitedly.
Merlene quietly drove on.
9
_________________
We girls were wearing our Sunday best when we entered Heavenly Angels Church of Chadsworth. We’d arrived there just when the eleven o’clock service was about to begin.
I must say the parishioners certainly poured a great deal of money into the architecture and upkeep of the church, and even still, I’m sure that Anthony could’ve given whomever was the chief coordinator some really good pointers. Perhaps, I’d suggest that to Reverend Paul Frisca someday.
We boldly made our way to the front of the church, stepping into the second row. I would’ve preferred the front pew, but it was fully occupied.
Everyone was standing and singing, and the musical worship continued for another fifteen minutes, at least. Merlene was wearing a lovely peach dress with a white hat and white shoes, and Carla was decked out in a long-sleeved mustard blouse and matching skirt, the material of which had a subtle shine to it whenever she moved. Her pointed shoes were the exact same color as her outfit. Her hair, which dangled at her shoulders, was nicely curled and undoubtedly complimented her flawless makeup which managed to magically roll back ten years of her life. I always thought Carla was a pretty girl.
I opted for my absolute finest church dress that I hadn’t worn for a while. It was a gorgeous all-white, silk, short-sleeved design with tiny pearls encircling the garment in three distinct locations: at the bosom, the waist and finally a few inches from the tail end which stopped at my knees.
While Merlene sang from the pamphlet and was quite dignified doing so, Carla was really into the music, so much that I even saw tears streaming down her cheeks while a smile graced her face. I had no idea what she was thinking, but could tell that it was deep. I soon noticed some other people were crying too with similar expressions and I wondered if Carla was just copying them; I certainly couldn’t put it past her.
When it was time for the sermon, Reverend Frisca was a bulldog up there on the pulpit—telling people the way it was, the way it is and the way it should be. He was no mincer of words; that’s for sure. He was one of those fire and brimstone type of preachers that had you running up to the altar as soon as the call to salvation was made. If I didn’t know what type of man he really was, at the end of that sermon, I would’ve gone running myself—at least for the twentieth time like I’d done in my own home church. I was surprised Carla and Merlene hadn’t found their way up there, especially Carla who was moved to tears after we first arrived.
When the service was over, parishioners trailed out of the sanctuary, many with wide smiles on their faces as they acknowledged one another. Reverend Frisca stood outside the front door, shaking hands as persons passed his way.
The girls and I waited until mostly everyone had left before we headed to the door. Frisca was of average height and build; light brown complexion and he had a dimple on his right cheek. His hair was black with strands of grey near the forehead. He was wearing a black robe and shoes, and his Bible was still in hand. I walked out with Carla and Merlene was directly behind us.
The minister promptly took my hand. “It’s a pleasure having you,” he said
with a pleasant smile, quite unlike what I’d seen when he was on that pulpit laying down the law. “Can I get your name?”
“The name’s Lucille Velma Abigail Pfiffer,” I replied. “I assume this is the good Reverend Paul Frisca I’m talking to.”
“You’ve assumed right.” He glanced at Carla.
“Very powerful sermon back there,” she told him.
“Thank you.”
He started to say something more on the topic, but I interjected. Couldn’t have him wasting our time chitchatting with Carla when we had more important things to do. “Reverend, while we enjoyed the service today…” I said, “…we really came to ask you about your affiliation with Glenda Risdal.”
He was immediately taken aback. I wasn’t sure it was by my boldness or the statement itself.
“Who are you? Family members of hers?” he asked.
“We’re close friends of hers whom she’d entrusted with some very confidential—and for some—very damaging information.”
Noticing a young couple a few feet behind us, he quietly said, “This is neither the time nor the place!”
“This may not be the place, dear reverend, but this is certainly the time!” I responded.
“Can we speak somewhere privately?” he pressed.
I was thinking inside of the church would be ideal. I doubted if he’d killed Glenda that he’d eliminate us inside there. But you never know.
“We can go to my office. Give me a few minutes.”
We waited to the side and allowed him to interact with the last few parishioners. When he was finished, he said, “Please, follow me.”
“Hope he’s not leading us to our death!” Carla loudly whispered.
“Not if I can help it,” Merlene replied.
“You mean…you’d beat up a reverend?” I asked her.
“Sure thing, if I had to! You think I’d let him kill me first? Hell no!”
Carla softly chuckled and we followed the pastor through the sanctuary to an area in the back where there were several small offices.
He entered the one marked, Pastor Paul Frisca and took a seat directly behind his desk. Carla made sure that I was seated, then she sat next to me while Merlene took it upon herself to grab a chair that was on the other side of the room and brought it closer to where we were sitting.
Frisca grabbed a cigar from his desk drawer, leaned back and crossed his legs, then lit his cigar.
“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked.
Merlene looked at Carla in disbelief. “Are you really going to light that cigar without asking us if we mind or not?” she asked him. “Second-hand smoke is just as deadly, you know.”
“Oh! My bad,” he said, blowing it out and stashing it back inside of the drawer.
Merlene didn’t play around. He truly didn’t want to get on her bad side.
I leaned forward a bit. “We just want to know what your affiliation was with Glenda. I guess you know she’s been murdered…”
“I do.”
“We’re trying to iron out some kinks and hopefully assist the police in finding out who was responsible for her death.”
“So, you’re amateur detectives, huh?” He replied, with a wicked smile on his face.
“Call us whatever you want, buster!” Merlene responded, angrily.
“My! You’re a real fireball, aren’t you?” The annoying smile was still front and center.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said.
I felt the need to quickly intervene. “I guess you can say we’re very concerned friends, Reverend.”
“That’s real admirable of you. But I dare say, if someone decided to finally get rid of that nosy, conniving witch who thought she could tame me with a bullheaded threat, then so be it!”
“Hey wait! You’re a man of the cloth. You can’t say that!” Carla blurted with a gesture of the hand.
“Suck it up, miss. I said it.”
He interlaced his fingers, cracking them simultaneously.
“Man of the cloth, my—” I quickly pinched Merlene’s arm.
“We’re still inside the church, Merlene. Have respect.”
“Yeah. Keep that overgrown hag in her place,” Frisca commented.
Merlene sprang up and hovered over his desk. “Hag? Hag? I’ll show you who’s a hag.”
He didn’t wince.
“You don’t scare me, lady. If you think you’re big and bad enough to lay a hand on me, you’ll get arrested before you can blink.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to be arrested,” Carla said as Merlene reluctantly sat down again. “After all, you’re the pervert who got chased from the other church in Michigan because you fondled a minor who was the daughter of a parishioner sent to you for counseling!”
“If they had anything on me, they should’ve used it,” he casually replied.
We were all suddenly at a loss for words. Glenda had threatened this guy with exposure at some point and that’s how come his name ended up in her black book. From his demeanor, he didn’t seem like the typical suspect since he gave the impression that he could care less what people thought of him.
“Do your faithful parishioners here at this fine church know about your sordid past, Reverend?” I asked, rather calmly.
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” He arched his brows. “Mind you, when the incident was still fresh in my mind around the time Glenda first showed her wicked face, I admit I was a bit worried about the rumor getting out, but I wasn’t about to pay her any extortion money. That’s for sure. The church doesn’t pay me enough for that.”
“Extortion?” Carla grimaced.
“Oh! You don’t know your friend offered to conceal a crime by committing a crime? You never know people these days. Do you?”
A few moments of silence ensued.
“To be honest, I’ve gotten to the place—and arrived here rather quickly—that I don’t care if I keep this job or lose it. The good Lord will provide. After all, my house is paid off; my bills are few and so are my worries.”
I truly didn’t know what to say. The guy obviously hated Glenda and I’m not sure if there was any veracity to a single word he said. One thing I did know for sure was that he didn’t give a rat’s behind about anyone’s opinion and exposure didn’t seem like something he feared at this point in time.”
“Well, I hope you’ve gotten the answers you were looking for,” he said, as we all seemed clearly confounded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you all lost a friend. I’ll put it that way.”
Merlene stood up again and took my hand. Carla and I got up as well.
“You can take your sorry and stick it up your sorry behind!” Merlene snarled. “Let’s get out of here, girls. If he’s done anything to Glenda, the police’ll nab him in good time.”
“Send them over, miss. I’ll be right here Mondays to Saturdays 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM and Sundays for 8:00 AM, 11:00 AM and 6:00 PM services. I might be a prick, but I’m no killer, so send them over. I dare you.”
He remained seated as we walked out. Carla stared him down as she was leaving and almost crashed into the wall.
We left there stunned and feeling defeated, and instead of driving straight home, we decided to head over to Marv’s coffee shop to have a meeting of the minds in one of his private social rooms.
* * * *
Marv’s coffee shop was no ordinary diner. It looked quite typical when you first walked in, but there was a large area beyond the kitchen where there were mini conference rooms, each with an oval table or two with room to seat up to six people, a couple of lounge chairs and a fifty-inch flat screen TV. Coffee pots were delivered and you could get as many refills as you want at no additional charge. Those rooms cost around one hundred bucks an hour, but I got one for fifty with my senior’s discount, which wasn’t bad at all. Carla offered to pay, but I graciously declined.
“This place is really nice!” she said, as we all sat together in the room where the walls rese
mbled that of a log house.
“It’s your first time here?” I asked.
“Yes!”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Merlene said, nonchalantly.
After our coffee arrived and we were left alone again, sitting at the table, we all actually sighed simultaneously.
“Aww. This is pathetic!” I said. “We’re all sitting here like the world’s crashed down on our heads! We’re going to figure this whole thing out, girls.”
“I must admit, I’m not so convinced anymore,” Carla replied. “I had high hopes, like I’m sure you two did as well, but nothing seems to be adding up with these suspects.”
“I have to agree,” Merlene added. “Every suspect on the shortlist, so far, doesn’t seem like our guy. I wonder if we got it wrong with the peace symbol thing. Maybe it doesn’t mean, in this case, what we thought it did. And what about everything we’ve uncovered so far about Glenda? It’s crazy.”
“Surely is!” Carla exclaimed. “While we’re investigating these suspects, we’re finding out things about Glenda that’s really disturbing.”
“I hear you, but let’s keep focused,” I told them. “Glenda’s still the victim here regardless of what anyone has said. I’m thinking we’re missing something—the obvious, perhaps?”
“What do you mean?” Carla asked.
“Sometimes the answer to puzzles isn’t in the ambiguous, but in the obvious. In other words…”
“It’s sitting right there under our noses and we’re not recognizing it,” Merlene interjected.
“Precisely! We need to dissect the information again from the first page of that book to the last,” I said.
I’d handed Merlene the black book that morning which she decided she’d keep in her bosom for safekeeping until we got home. I thought it made sense to bring it along that day in case we needed to refer back to it while out and about.
She and Carla sat next to each other and took another look, while by means of my inner vision, I added an additional set of eyes.
Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series (Books 4 - 6) Page 22