Untitled Project, Working Title "Killer Night"

This is perhaps the story I've spent the most time on. I enjoy he story and characters. I just don't know what the story really is. A common problem of mine it seems. I like the effort. Just not sure where to take it. Only time will tell.

Forty year-old Oliver Lightfoot walked into his home. He closed the door behind himself. He entered his bedroom, pulled out his 30mm Remington pistol, turned out the lights, and ended his life.

Oliver wasn’t the only person to do this. There were others, several throughout the world that had done the exact same thing that day, in fact. Oliver’s case however was different. He was one of the most respected men in the city of Ghinny. He had made it rich in the oil industry and had what seemed to be an ideal life. ‘Money, power, a happy relationship with his wife, why would he want to throw all of that away?’ was the question on everyone’s minds.

His wife had arrived home and, upon witnessing the sight, called the police. They arrived on the scene about an hour later. They ruled the death a suicide and never reopened the case. It was a clear-cut case, but the lack of reason behind the act is what made me question it all. I took it upon myself to find the reason why. Why Oliver of Ghinny killed himself.

I know this type of thing happens often enough but not to people with the demeanor of Oliver. As many know Oliver and I have been close friends since childhood. He was always in good spirits. I’ve been a guest of his on many occasions. Sometimes for a month or more. I always found ways to repay him for those things, though he always said it was unnecessary.

I’m Yancey, I’m a detective, or at least I have been ever since Oliver gave me the money to start this service. I at least owed peace to his family. After the police finished and the case report was available to the family I began my investigation.

My mind continued to tell me that it was a business venture gone wrong or something of the sort, but my gut told me it was something even more foul. I began my investigation at Lightfoot Oil, by investigating his business records. Nothing was written in his books that made me think he’d want to kill himself. Nothing that told me that he was doing it to protect the family’s style of life. Stumped I gave up the idea that it was business related.

Oliver’s wife had invited me for dinner that night. She also said there was something else that she needed me there for. She always was a great cook, so I accepted. I drove to their house, it was always spectacular to observe. It was a large white mansion mostly covered in ivy. The landscaper always had the most breathtaking topiary too. I pull up in the drive, the eldest son Jonathan Lightfoot was on the porch to greet me. He had flown back for the funeral. I pull to the side and exit my car. “Jonathan, It’s been a long time,” I shout as I approach him.

“5 years,” he replied and gave me a hug.

“That long? Really? Anyway, how’s California been treating you?”

Jonathan had moved to California at the age of twenty. He had become a very successful actor. I guess luck runs in the family. He broke the hug and I stepped back to look at him. Jonathan looked very much the part of a successful actor, tall, tan, brunette, thin, and muscular. Sometimes I’d joke that he walked right out of a CK billboard.

“Oh, not too bad. I’ve got a new movie coming out this August.”

“So, how’s your mother holding up?” I asked expecting to hear that she wasn’t herself, se was distraught and drunken, but the answer I got was something that I didn’t expect.

“I’m doing just fine. In fact I’m quite flattered that you would worry about that,” said a familiar voice from behind Jonathan.

“Wh…?” I was speechless. Jonathan moved to the side and revealed a very happy looking woman.

“Yancey, I’m glad you could come.” She said and embraced me. Her name was Harriet but everyone called her Betty. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes upon. Time had done some damage, though not enough to make me change my statement. Her auburn hair, her distinguished forehead, her ruby red lips, they all still spoke to me in ways I knew I could never act upon.

“It’s good to see you again Betty. I just wish it wasn’t…”

“I understand. I miss him too, you lost your best friend, I lose my husband, and they lost their father. We all miss him Yancey.”

“Over the phone you told me that there was something I had to be here for. Not that I don’t love your cooking, because you know I do.” I said nervously.

“That’ll be revealed after dinner.” She said, broke the embrace and began inside. “You’re more then welcome inside Yancey.” She called back.

I realized I had been standing there just staring so I entered the house. I notice the youngest daughter in the Foyer. Virginia Lightfoot was her name. She was the spitting image of her mother, and at the age of thirteen is dealing with one of the biggest tragedies of her life.

“Virginia, come give Uncle Yancey a hug will ya?” I called.

She looked at me. Tears streamed down her face. I never wanted to see that look on that face. She came over to me, I knelt down, and she gave me a hug and began sobbing on my shoulder. “Why? Why did daddy have to do that? Why?” were the only words out of her mouth.

Fighting back tears of my own I try to consul her. “I don’t know. I’ll find out though, don’t you worry sweetie.” She lifted her head from my shoulder and I kissed her forehead. “Be strong. The pain is only temporary. I know you’ll miss him forever more but try to remember the good, and know that no matter what you will see each other again someday.”

I myself don’t buy the theory of an afterlife. I believe that someone created everyone but that the soul is neither rewarded nor punished but simply sent back until fully enlightened. And well, I haven’t thought much past that however.

Virginia went away thinking of what I said. “I hope my words helped her…” I thought as I passed through the living room. I was rushed by a little walking tornado as I entered the family room. The youngest son, Henry Lightfoot ran to me with glee and asked, “Uncle Yancey! What’d you bring me!?”

“Nothing today Kiddo,” I replied, It seemed that he didn’t grasp the true meaning of the situation. Then again he was only 7. Why trouble him with the grim truth?

“Well you had better make up for it next time.” He told me and walked away. “Nothing too strange at home so far,” I thought as I made my way to the Dining hall. There stood the last of the Lightfoot children, 17 year-old Simone. Simone was a work of art as well, slender, brunette, gorgeous, and had a beautiful singing voice.

“Hello Simone, How are you holding up?” I asked.

“Uncle Yancey… I’m holding up just fine. You should be more worried about yourself.” She replied.

“Well, it’s hard for me to worry about me, when he was a friend to me and a father to you.”

“Fair enough.” She said and laughed.

“Well it seems like the only one of you that’s really broken up about this is Virginia. Why are the rest of you so calm and acceptant?” The only reason that I asked was because it seemed strange to me that they all would be this calm after a tragedy of this magnitude.

“We all feel like it must have been for the better. He wouldn’t have left us the way he did without a damn good reason… Would he?” was her answer.

“I don’t know the answer to that question as of now. Though I would tend to agree with you that it must have been for the better.” I said. She explained it all. He had to have a damn good reason. Though with no suicide note there was no way in proving that.

“Dinner will be served shortly. If you’d like to have a seat you may.” Said a voice from behind me. I turned and there stood Johnson, the butler.

“Oh, Thank you Johnson. I think I will have a seat.” I said and moved where I would normally sit at the table, when Harriet entered and said, “Yancey, you may sit where ever you like.”

“Thank you for the thought but I’m comfortable in this seat.” I replied. And took my usual seat. Betty took the seat next to mine. The others took seats that would be suitable to them and one chair remained empty, His chair.

Johnson brought in the food in on a cart. The table was set for seven, and placed food for seven in front of us on the table. “Gone but in no way forgotten.” I thought, Jonathan stood up and led us all in grace. “Oh heavenly father, In Earth and in heaven. We thank you for this bountiful feast that you have placed before us, and the gift of life you have given us. Also we all ask that you welcome the man that had just left this world into with warmth and a smile. Amen”

“Amen.” We all ended and began eating. There was a little bit of catching up from the family at the dinner table.

“So, Jonathan, in your last letter home you said you had found a girlfriend. Why didn’t you bring her along?” Harriet questioned.

“She had a Movie audition and a few other things she had to do this week. I’ll bring her when I come home again.” Jonathan answered. He quickly turned his questioning to me. “So, Yancey, What have you been up to recently?”

“Oh, I’ve been doing a bit of this and a bit of that. Currently I’m a private eye.” I answered.

“He’s also been visiting often.” Harriet said with a sly smile and a wink toward me. “What’s going on here? It seems as though Betty is trying to hit on me.” I thought but then settled to the conclusion that it was just paranoia.

Jonathan continued with the questions. “Virginia how’s school?”

“Not too bad. I’ve been doing very well. Daddy would always help me with my homework and…” She began to break up again.

“I understand. Don’t cry Virginia. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jonathan said.

“Why is Virginia crying? He’s gone, so what. He’s been gone before and he’s always come back. So he’ll come back this time right? That wasn’t really him in that box. He’s just out on a trip…? Right?” Henry asked. He was beginning to realize what was going on. Denial, I’m sure all of them had gone through this stage by now. Even I had. We all were able to accept it though at that age, I would be just like he is. Denying it until my final breath.

“No, sweetheart. He’s not coming back. That was him in the box. He’s gone for good.” Harriet said, her voice quaking. She almost broke down. I put my arms around her and held her close. It was all I could think of doing.

“She’s joking right? He can’t be gone forever! He just can’t!” Henry said standing up. He ran from the room almost crying.

“It must have hit him the hardest.” I thought Harriet silently sobbing in my arms. After she had regained composure we returned to the meal. It was a terrific meal, but we ate in silence.

After dinner was over we all headed to the study where a man in a suit stood with a briefcase. 6 chairs were set up in the center of the room and a desk and chair combo sat parallel the back wall “I hope you all don’t mind my unannounced entry. I just felt it would be better for us all if I waited here.” He said

“We were having dinner, you would have been welcome to join us.” Harriet explained.

“I appreciate the offer but I had had something to eat on the way.” He said with a warm smile. “Oh, Where is my head? For those of you who don’t know me I’m Mr. Herrington, I was Oliver’s lawyer.”

Virginia turned to Simone and asked, “Who’s Oliver?”

Simone smiled and replied, “That was Dad’s first name.”

I got a little smirk when I heard this. Being one of the younger children it only seemed natural that she would ask something like that. Henry had finally worked through whatever he needed and entered the study.

“Good. Now that everyone is in attendance we may begin the reading of the will.” Mr. Harrington said and went over to the desk and sat down. He set the briefcase on the desk and opened it. He pulled out a three-page document. Then in a clear speaking voice said, “Will everyone please be seated so we may begin?” We all sat in a chair that seemed to be to our liking. Betty still sat next to me.

“Thank you, now for the reading of the will. Um Hm, ‘I Oliver P. Lightfoot, Being of sound mind and steady heart hereby leave the following to the following people in the unfortunate event of my passing.

“To my eldest daughter Simone, I leave my Prize automobile, a 1974 Chevrolet Corvette, may it serve you as well as it has me.”

Simone seemed semi-relieved that she had gotten the car.

“To my eldest son Jonathan, I leave my boat and summer home in Palm Springs, may they bring you the happiness and joy of your childhood.”

Jonathan was on the verge of tears, I remember how he used to describe that house. It was beautiful.

“To my beloved wife Harriet, I leave my clothing, jewelry, and Seven hundred thousand dollars, may it suit your needs. I apologize for it is not much.”

Harriet seemed to be a little disappointed that she didn’t get the house as she wanted.

“To my youngest son Henry, I leave my Prize possession my Baseball card collection, may you get the same feeling from them I once did.”

Henry had always wanted those cards. He coveted them above anything else.

“To my youngest daughter Virginia, I leave the orchard and the Lightfoot Nurseries, I know how much you love nature. Though if this is read before you are able to run these establishments Johnson shall be appointed Trustee.”

Virginia had a huge love for those nurseries and that orchard. Johnson also shared her love of them so this fit the both of them well.

“And last but certainly not least my dear friend Yancey. I leave the rest of my possessions. Three of which are especially dear to me, the house, Lightfoot Oil, and my lucky medallion.”

I was shocked; He gave me the house, the oil company, his many other automobiles and his medallion. I had wanted that since we were children. It seemed to be the source of all of the good things that had happened to him over the years. He never went anywhere without it. He had it on when he met Harriet. He had it on when he struck oil in an abandon plot of land that he had purchased for next to nothing.

“I have no intention of keeping the house Betty, you may take it.” I said, still in disbelief that he had given me so much.

“You always were too nice to me Yancey.” She responded with a warm smile.

“It’s to be expected I…” I froze in mid sentence. “Were you really going to say that? Were you really going to tell her that you love her?” I thought.

“Yancey? You what Yancey?” She asked she seemed to be drawn by the fact that I halted.

“I don’t need a house like this. I live alone and I don’t want to impose upon you all.” I said trying to disguise the fact that I just about exposed something at an inappropriate time.

Mr. Harrington handed me the deed to the house and the pink slips to the cars. The other possessions were in his safety deposit box at the bank. I went there and picked up the medallion. “Strange, I figured he’d at least leave this at home… Why did he leave it here?” I thought as I held it in my hands. “There’s money in here!” I said as I sorted through the box. “About $700,000… and there’s also jewelry in here… This must be Betty’s. I’ll leave it.” I thought as I made my way out of the bank.

Still in disbelief that he had left me his most valuable possessions I held the medallion up to the sunlight. There was no mistaking it this was the genuine article. I looked around for anyone that may steal the medallion, as would have been my normal luck, and then placed it around my neck. “Nothing too special… Was it just my imagination? It must have been… Wait what was I expecting, some divine feeling of luck? There is only one way to test this thing…” I told myself, not realizing I had done so out loud.

I took the next flight to Atlantic City. I had to see if it really had any effect on my luck. I placed a bet at the roulette wheel. I knew that it was very slim that I would win but despite all odds I won. I decided to push my luck. I placed another bet. I won again. “This can’t be coincidence. It must be the medallion.” I thought but then I walked away from the table. If it was just coincidence I didn’t want to chance loosing my new fortune.

I moved to a blackjack table. “The true test. I never win at blackjack,” I thought as I sat down. I placed a bet. 21, I won with blackjack. “I must leave… NOW!” I thought and cashed out, $70,000 ahead.

I got home and checked my messages. “Hey Yancey, It’s me, Betty. I was just wondering how you were. I guess you’re busy I’ll call back later.” The first message said. Then the date stamp played “Friday, 1:43 pm.” The next message played “It’s me again. I guess you’re not in yet… Call me when you can. Bye.” “Friday 6:26 pm.” The third Message played, “Yancey, I know you are testing the medallion, when you get this message come to the park, in the third tree on the right from the east entrance. Read and all shall be explained.” This message caught me by surprise, it was him… it was Oliver’s voice. “Saturday 2:23 am.” Three minutes before I had left Atlantic City.

I arrived at the park. I entered through the east entrance. The leaves barely starting to change with the season, the air was crisp and clean. It was a beautiful day to walk in the park. Walking through the park I arrived at the designated tree. It had been struck by lightning years earlier and had been used as a storage space ever since. I reached into the tree and pulled out an envelope. Walking further into the park I sat on a bench and opened the envelope.

“To whomever shall find this and open this letter,

This is my confession, I had faked my death in order for my family and friends to live better. I kept enough for me to live on and left all the rest of my belongings to my family and closest friend. I have enclosed a picture of me with the items I kept. As for my whereabouts I cannot tell you for that may be detrimental to my freedom.

Thank you for reading this.

Oliver Lightfoot

P.S.

Yancey, if you’re the one who finds this. Take good care of Everything. May your luck be that of my own.

I pulled out the photo and almost fainted in shock from what I saw. He still had the medallion. “This can’t be! I have…” Then it hit me, one of us had a fake. “This… It has to be the real one…” I thought, the night before did happen. This had to be it. I took the letter back home with me.

I read it many a time after I had returned to my home. It was definitely his handwriting. I looked over the photo many times as well. It was most definitely Oliver, but I had no idea of if it was a fake or not. I couldn’t be sure of the authenticity of the note unless the photo could be better analyzed.

I brought the photo to a guy I know named George. He was a wiz with all the photo analysis stuff. “Yancey, I hear that you’ve got something you want me to analyze.” He said as I walked into his office. George wasn’t much of a looker, about 5’6” with messed and slept in brown hair, His face was covered in zits and a pair of thick glasses, His pudgy figure concealed by a wrinkled shirt and jacket, but he was the at telling what was faked and what wasn’t photographically.

“Yeah, I found this picture with a letter in a tree. They weren’t marked by water or animal fur when I found them and they both appear to be proof of Oliver still being alive.” I said and handed George the photo.

“Hmmm… There’s a newspaper in the background… I’ll analyze this and tell you whether it’s a fake or not. Though at first glance this appears to be the genuine article…”

“Thanks George. Call me when you’ve got the answer.” I said and left George’s. I wanted to tell Oliver’s family about the letter and the photo but until I was sure of them being authentic, I figured that it was best for me to just let them stay in the dark.

I returned home and called Betty. She seemed glad to hear my voice. “Could you come over to the house? It’s Jonathan’s last day here and he wants to see you one last time before he leaves.” She asked and I said I’d be right over.

I arrived at the Lightfoot manor in the evening. I parked close to the door. Upon entering the manor I noticed that the Lightfoots were waiting for me at the door. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They all shouted. I couldn’t believe it. Today was my birthday; I had been so enthralled with my own suspicions to notice. “… Wow… You all went through all of this for me? I’m touched… I can’t believe I had forgotten my birthday.” I admitted with slight embarrassment.

Betty took me to the living room where everyone watched as I put on a party hat and gaze in wonder at my gifts. “You didn’t have to do this for me you know… All this trouble, I’m not worth all this.” I said with the embarrassment and humility. Truly they didn’t have to do anything for me. I would have been happy with a phone message.

“Before you get to open your gifts I say we eat cake and ice cream.” Jonathan suggested and everyone, including me, agreed with this idea. In the dining room Johnson brought out the cake. Forty-two candles were aflame on the cake. I was told to make a wish and blow out the candles. I did so. “I wish to know the truth about Oliver. I wish for all the family to be happy in openly knowing the truth.” I thought as I blew out the candles. Everyone cheered and as was tradition no one asked me to reveal my wish.

We all ate our fill of the cake and ice cream we retired to the living room. I stood before the others and gave an announcement. “Before I open my gifts I’d like to give you all a few gifts. I’ve decided to keep one car, the medallion, and the oil fields; you all can have the rest of the things I was left. I have no use for them. Divide them as you will.”

There was a cheer and they began to hand me gifts. There were only four but they say they put a lot of thought into them. “This one is from me.” Jonathan said as I was handed the first gift. I opened it and there were three things inside, a DVD player, an advanced copy of Jonathan’s latest movie and a key.

“John… This is great! What does this key go to though?” I asked.

“Oh that is a key to the beach house. Come by anytime you’d like.” Jonathan answered. My mouth hung open. There were no words to describe the emotion that was running through me at that point.

“Mine Next!!” Henry shouted, jumping up and down with his gift in hand. He handed it to me and I opened it carefully. There was a photo inside, one of the entire Lightfoot family and I. I nearly cried.

“This… This is one of the most thoughtful gifts you could have gotten me. Thank you Henry.” I said with my voice trembling, and a great smile upon my face.

“Please open mine next Uncle Yancey.” Simone called and Jonathan handed it to me. I opened it and there was a sweater inside.

“I hope it fits, I made it myself.” She said sheepishly. “I know it’s not as great as the other gifts but…” She was stopped short by my actions. I was taking off my coat and vest, and donning the sweater.

“It fits like a glove… or rather a sweater…” I said with a slight laugh. “I’ll wear it as much as I can. Thank you for thoughtfulness and creativity.” I said. It was truly a great sweater.

Virginia looked at me with a silent smile. I look into her eyes and smile back. “Did we save the best for last?” I ask and she nodded handing me a small box. I was surprised, Only three things come in a box this shape, Jewelry, Watches, or home-made objects. I opened the box and was really surprised.

“A ring… Did you buy this Virginia?” I asked. She shook her head and then spoke up.

“A friend of mine’s daddy is a jeweler, he told me that he would give me something for you. I wouldn’t have to pay him a dime. All you needed to do was say his name a few times.” She said with that innocent smile.

“And what would his name be? I’ll tell everyone about this man.” I said as I place the ring upon my finger.

“Roger.” She said still smiling innocently.

“Alright then, Roger shall get my endorsement.” I said returning the smile. “Wow… Look at the time. I’d better be going.” I said and stood up.

“Don’t be silly. You’re staying here tonight.” Betty said.

“I couldn’t possibly stay. I’ve imposed upon you all too much already. I should be going.” I reply and start to walk out.

“Uncle Yancey, Please stay. I’ve got to leave tomorrow. I want you to be here to see me off.” Jonathan said.

“… All right, you’ve talked me into it. I’ll stay the night. Though I hope this is the last time, I really feel bad that I can’t do much to repay you all for letting me stay all those times in the past.” I said as they all smiled.

“I’ll have Johnson prepare your room.” Betty said with thee widest of their smiles.

I was escorted to my room. It was the one I almost always stayed in, all the clothes I had ever left there were still in the closet. “It’s like I’m a true member of the family.” I thought and just then someone entered the room.

“Yancey, The other night, at Oliver’s funeral, what were you really about to say?” A voice said behind me. I turn to see Betty in a nighty standing near the door.

“Betty! I umm… I was going to say…” I couldn’t think of anything. My mind was telling me to avoid it all.

“Yancey, call me Harriet. We’ve known each other for so long It only seems right.” She said and came closer to my bed.

“All right Harriet, I was trying…” I was cut short by Harriet’s finger pressed against my lips.

“Yancey… You think I’ve never noticed the way you’ve looked at me? You think I’ve been oblivious to the fact that you love me?” She said with a sly smile. “Yancey, It’s cute that you keep it back for the sake of everyone. I think however that the children like you enough to have you as their new father. They love you Yancey and so do I.” She said then kissed me. I recoiled. “This isn’t right. I… There’s something going on here!” I thought.

“What’s wrong Yancey? Why did you pull away?” Harriet asked, I looked into her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this right now… I have something that may mean that Oliver is still alive. I do love you Harriet but… I just can’t do this in clear conscience. Even if Oliver was truly dead… It just wouldn’t be right to move in this quickly.” I explained.

“I understand Yancey. I still miss him too, but it’s nice to have you around. I guess grief makes you do strange things, he hasn’t been gone a couple months and look at me. I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable. About this evidence of Oliver being alive, What is it?” Harriet asked. 
I looked at her and though about what I was going to say. She’d found the body and identified it as her husband, and now with because of a note I was going to tell her I believed him still alive? In spite of my doubts I showed her the note and photo. She looked at them for a bit and she had perked up upon recognizing his handwriting, then began to laugh. “You’d think we’d know better wouldn’t you?” She laughed. “Two grown adults looking at a note supposedly from a departed loved one and a photo with no date, believing that they’re still alive. We must not have gotten out of the denial phase of grief after all.” I laughed with her at this point.
“You’d think we would.” I said with a smile, all the same I still felt strongly in my gut that what the note and photo were real. “Someone’s fooling with you Yancey.” She said and I stood to leave. “I’m sure you’re right. After all you’d know best that he is...” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the line. As if understanding, she rose from her seat and gave me a comforting hug. I embraced her as well and all felt right for a moment. “I should go. It’s getting late.” She’d said and we broke our embrace. “You’re right. Goodnight Yancey and happy birthday,”