Blind Christmas: A HOLIDAY ABDUCTION: Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series, #8

By Tanya R. Taylor

This is going to be a Christmas they will never forget!

 

Twelve-year-old Tommy Anderson has vanished without a trace. He has a disability and his parents are worried sick, praying for his safe return. Is something sinister going on in Chadsworth or has Tommy simply wandered off on his own?

The town of Chadsworth is filled with excitement for the upcoming Christmas season. Families are wrapping gifts and doing last minute shopping, but one family is devastated over the disappearance of a loved one just days before Christmas.

Is there a kidnapper on the loose and should other residents get extra security for the sake of themselves and their loved ones this Christmas?

It's bound to be one of the most puzzling and shocking mysteries that Lucille and Vanilla will encounter.

Another exciting installment in the five-star rated Lucille Pfiffer Mystery Series by Award-winning author Tanya R. Taylor!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tanya R. Taylor
• Release date: Jan 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201452308

Tanya R. Taylor

Tanya has worn many hats throughout the years as a wife, mother, entrepreneur, and author (just to name a few). She has been writing since she could remember holding a pencil and published her first book titled: 'A Killing Rage' as a young adult. She is now the author of both fiction and non-fiction literature. All of her books have made Amazon kindle's Top 100 Paid Best-sellers' List in several categories. 'Cornelius' climbed to #1 in the Teen & Young-adult Multi-generational Family Fiction category in November 2015. And her supernatural, suspense/thriller - 'INFESTATION: A Small Town Nightmare: The Complete Series' was #1 in the Amazon UK store in the Religious Drama category, March 2016. Tanya writes in various genres including: Paranormal Romance, Fantasy, Thrillers, Science fiction, Mystery and Suspense.

Book preview

1

_________________

(‘Tis the season to be jolly.)

––––––––

December 25th was right around the corner – actually twelve days away and I was so excited. Christmas is my absolute favorite time of the year; always has been and I really don’t think my feelings have changed much in relation to that since I was a child.

I admit that while growing up, my home environment was not very conducive to the Christmas season—neither to any other holiday for that matter. Mom didn’t exactly go out of her way to make the occasion a special one for me. She had more important things to think of such as herself. I only realized how special Christmas was when I noticed other families in my neighborhood making a big deal out of it, especially with the display of a Christmas tree—no matter how beautiful or disgraceful it looked. The point is that they had one. Many of them took great pains in decorating their tree and some succeeded at it, in my humble opinion, and others failed miserably. Nevertheless, it didn’t matter one iota how the tree looked at the end of the day. What mattered was the joy that surrounded it and permeated the air. And I perceived that it wasn’t about the tree at all, but about the positive emotions that Christmas evoked. From the gift giving and charity that went out the door for some people the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, to the lovely decorations on homes and street corners—even on business establishments.

Mom didn’t bother to change a thing about our house when the holiday came around—not because she wasn’t Christian, but because she said it was all a huge marketing campaign by big and small store owners alike. She might’ve been right, and years later, I certainly understood her sentiments in that regard. But since she wasn’t religiously opposed to it, I felt she could’ve made Christmas a special time for me since other kids got to enjoy it. Okay...okay...I realize it isn’t about me at all—that there’s a deeper meaning to Christmas that has to do with Christ and trust me, I’m not trying to take that away from Him at all. I’m just speaking of it from the eyes and heart of a child who felt something unique around that time of year, but who never even got a Christmas gift from my mom. Thankfully, my Uncle Stan brought a present to our house for me every couple of years. He was the only relative who seemed to care that I was the only kid on our block who didn’t get to open any gifts for Christmas, other than the Jehovah’s Witnesses down the street from me.

One Christmas morning when I was eleven years old, I walked across the street to my friend Cynthia Snider’s house. Her folks were the overly affectionate type who were annoyingly touchy and feely with everyone they came into contact with. Mr. Snider usually pinched my ear and nose whenever I showed up and got a kick out of how I frowned about it. He never pinched hard at all; it was just his way of playing with neighborhood kids. And Mrs. Snider always had a jolly smile on her face like she was Mrs. Claus or something. The woman never seemed to have a bad day. Cynthia was a lot like her mother; she was a happy-go-lucky girl who didn’t have a care in the world. None of us were well off by any means—far from it—but the people in my neighborhood generally knew how to be happy with the little that they had.  

The Snider’s house was the best decorated on our street. Cynthia’s parents owned a little shop attached to their home which was the main thing that kept their heads above water financially. What surprised me that day all those years ago was that they actually had a gift under the tree for me. Cynthia said she’d told her parents that my mom didn’t celebrate Christmas and I never got presents, so they felt badly for me and told Cynthia to invite me over on Christmas morning. Mom barely spoke a word to them; she pretty much kept to herself and her occasional whisky. I think they felt sorry for me because every Christmas after that until they moved away four years later, they’d brought Christmas gifts for me. I would show the presents to Mom, but she didn’t care either way.

When Cynthia’s dad finally completed ten years of college part-time and got his degree, he took a job across town at a marketing firm and moved the family into a better neighborhood. I was sad when they left and figured they wouldn’t be mailing any presents my way, so when I turned sixteen, I got my first job at a diner downtown after school, started saving my money and every Christmas after that, I made it special for me. I purchased us our first Christmas tree and put up some decorations and twinkling lights on our front porch. Mom argued with me that extra lights on the house meant a higher power bill, but I won the argument when I reminded her that I was working and actually paying some of the bills now. I also bought and wrapped a couple of gifts for mom and a few for myself. She was quite resistant over all the decorating fuss I was making, but you should’ve seen the look on her face when I handed her those gifts that year. Her face immediately softened and I could swear I glimpsed a smile. My mother rarely ever smiled and maybe she didn’t have very much to smile about since life hadn’t been very kind to her. But had it not been for the Sniders who had their struggles and challenges and still knew how to give the gift of love to others, I might’ve ended up just like my mom—lonely, bitter and angry at the world. Strangers never know the hidden power of a kind gesture.

Hey! You almost knocked me off the ladder! Anthony yelled after I mistakenly bumped into it in the living room.

What are you doing up there? I asked.

I’m hanging some decorations like I did last year and the year before that, he said. I forgot to tell you that I was going up.

That would have been nice since he knew I was legally blind.

No worries. Thankfully, I didn’t bump a lot harder to cause you to fall, I replied. I’m sure for Theodore, if he were here, that would’ve been a funny sight to see. Not to mention, you might’ve gotten hurt.

Anthony shook his head. Funny how you left mentioning the possibility of me getting hurt for last.

You know I love you, Anthony. I wouldn’t want you injured. Besides, who’d take care of the decorating if you don’t?

"I know he’s not necessarily viewed as backup when it comes to things like this, he said. But Theodore can easily take over."

And that’s just like saying Nilla will take over. I continued on to the kitchen.

My darling Nilla was in the TV room under the couch, scratching at something that had always managed to evade my inner sight. I could never make out what it was she was getting at and neither could the boys. Theodore had even pulled out the