The Silence of the Llamas (24 page)

Maggie could tell from her tone that she was mad at her husband and had even lost trust in him. But she still loved him and believed he was innocent. And that’s what really counted after all, wasn’t it?

Dana nodded thoughtfully. “I think you’re right. They can’t use any of this in court. They obviously don’t have any concrete evidence linking Ben to Ridley’s murder, or you would have heard about it by now.”

Dana’s reply was not entirely reassuring. Maggie almost heard the words she’d left out: “. . . or they would have arrested him by now.”

Ellie must have heard the words, too. “This can’t go to
court, Dana. I don’t think I could stand it. I don’t think our marriage could hold up under that pressure.”

Ellie started crying and covered her face with her hands. Maggie felt so bad for her. She didn’t know what to say.

Dana stood up and put her arm around Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie, please don’t cry. You’re under so much stress right now. It’s hard to keep things in perspective.”

“I know but . . . it wasn’t smart of Ben to just take off like that. The police told him not to leave town without telling them. What if he’s so scared that he does something stupid, like drive up to Canada and cross the border? He may never be able to come back,” she said, launching into a fresh bout of sobs.

“Did he tell you that he might do that?” Dana was trying hard to hide the note of alarm in her voice, Maggie thought, but she was not entirely successful.

Ellie nodded sadly. “He did, when we were arguing. He was angry and tired of being questioned and accused. It was just an offhand remark. Almost a threat, I thought. Now I’m really worried.”

Maggie didn’t blame her. A desperate act like that was practically an admission of guilt. The police would think so, anyway.

Dana spoke quietly and tried to catch Ellie’s glance. “He was probably just blowing off steam. Let’s hope he has more sense than that.”

Ellie nodded. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and seemed a bit calmer. “I have a nice pie for dessert. Let me get it.” She walked over to the sideboard and carried a very pretty pie with a golden lattice crust back to the table.

“Dot made this pie,” Ellie said as she set it on the table.
“She brought it over this afternoon. After Ben left. She said she’d found a few apples hiding out in the branches, trying not to get picked. These were the really clever ones.” The description made Ellie smile—for maybe the first time that evening, Maggie realized. “I promised to save her a piece. She won’t be back until tomorrow morning. Anyone want coffee or tea?”

Maggie and Dana both wanted tea, and Ellie went over to the sink to fill a kettle.

“We saw Dot when we got here,” Dana said. “She’s a home health aide someplace?”

“She works for a woman who lives nearby, Elizabeth Foley. She’s an invalid, with multiple sclerosis. A few other aides come and go. Dot isn’t her only help, but she seems to be Mrs. Foley’s favorite. Dot works there about ten or twelve hours a week. It depends on Mrs. Foley’s condition and how much she needs her.”

Ellie set the kettle on the stove and turned on the gas burner, then opened a cupboard and took out three dishes and mugs.

“Dot has a lot of energy for a woman her age, doesn’t she?” Dana said.

“Oh, she’s remarkable. I don’t know what we would have done without her. When we bought the place, we ran an ad to rent the cottage, but we also needed some help with the animals and running the orchard. Especially during the picking season. Dot couldn’t really afford the rent we were asking, but she’s lived on farms her whole life, so it all fell into place.”

“That was lucky,” Maggie remarked.

“She’s been a good friend. In her quiet way,” Ellie said. “I know she’s aware of all the tension between me and Ben. But
she doesn’t judge. She’s been very sympathetic, a real support.” Ellie sighed. “I’m sure she’s wondering if we’re going to really stay here, after all. But she hasn’t asked yet.”

“If you’re going to stay?” Dana looked up at Ellie. Maggie felt surprised by the comment, too. “Are you and Ben talking about selling the farm?”

Ellie took a creamer and sugar bowl out of the cupboard. She glanced at Dana, then focused back on her task. “That was part of the argument, too. I hate to say it, but in the last few days, it seems as if all this hard work, all the time and money we’ve spent trying to get this business going . . . it’s all been for nothing. A colossal waste of time. Ben is so unhappy. He says this whole situation has soured him on this place, on the farm . . . on everything.”

Maggie felt very bad hearing that, though in a way, she was not surprised. “I’m sure he feels that way now,” she said to Ellie. “But he might feel differently when the police find Ridley’s murderer and his name is cleared.”

Ellie seemed lost in thought for a moment, then looked over at her friends again. “I don’t think so. He sounds very definite. He says the people around here just don’t want to accept us. We’re just not welcome and they’ll always make life difficult for us, one way or the other.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say to that. Dana didn’t seem to, either. Maggie thought Ben was right, in a way. Some circles of Plum Harbor, like this farming community, were made up of tightly knit families who had lived here for generations, closed to outsiders. After ten or even fifteen years, the Kruegers might still be considered “newcomers.”

On top of that were all the rumors and gossip about Ridley’s death. That was a potent combination that could drive even the most committed newcomer into retreat.

Maggie knew from firsthand experience that once you were smeared with such serious accusations—even if you were totally innocent—it was hard to shake it off and move on. It was hard to live it down.

Finally Dana spoke. “Even with Ridley gone, he still thinks you’ll be bothered?”

Ellie nodded bleakly. “He’s convinced now it wasn’t just Ridley. He thinks the rest of that group will keep bothering us until we go. Unless the police can catch them, I guess. But they’re so busy trying to prove a case against Ben, I don’t think they’ve followed up at all on our complaints.”

The teakettle whistled shrilly, and Ellie stepped back over to the stove. Maggie was about to say something when suddenly they heard another shrill alarm. Coming from outdoors, somewhere behind the house.

Ellie quickly shut off the burner and ran to the window over the sink, which faced the barn and the pasture.

“It’s one of the alarms out back. Either the corral or the barn. I have to go check.” She turned to them, her skin white as paper. “Will you come with me?”

Maggie jumped up from her chair, and so did Dana.

“Of course we will,” Dana said quickly. They followed Ellie to the mudroom and grabbed their jackets off the coat hooks. There was a boot bench below and a shelf above, with cubbyholes that were jammed with needful things for farm life—garden gloves and cans of insect repellent.

“We’d better grab some flashlights. Do you have any handy?” Dana asked.

“I have a bunch in one of these baskets . . .” Ellie reached around to find the flashlights.

And not a moment too soon. The light in the mudroom flickered and suddenly went out.

The lights had gone out all over the house, Maggie realized, and outside, too.

“Gee . . . looks like we’ve lost power.” Dana’s voice sounded a little shaky in the dark, stating the obvious. As if she was struggling to remain calm.

And Ellie still hadn’t found the flashlights. “Here’s one . . . no batteries, darn it.” Maggie heard a dull clicking sound, but Ellie didn’t sound worried. “The power goes off a lot. The wiring is a mess. We had it upgraded, but it’s still very iffy. The generators should come on soon.”

Maggie felt a notch better. At least the screaming security alarms outside had gone silent.

But now she heard another sound. A different kind of screaming. Not quite as loud, but very unnerving.

“What in the world is that?” she asked.

“The llamas. They’re crying. They’re scared of something . . .” Ellie sounded panicked now. “I can’t find a flashlight. . . . Let’s just go out there.”

Maggie was closest to the door. She turned to open it and peered through the windowpanes first. It was pitch-black outside. She couldn’t see a thing.

Then another pair of eyes stared back at her.

M
aggie screamed and jumped back, bumping into her friends, who stood behind her. They had all seen the eyes, too.

Ellie pushed passed her and pulled the door open. “It’s one of the llamas. She got loose . . .”

Ellie was fast, but the llama was faster. It quickly trotted across the patch of grass and flower beds behind the farmhouse. Ellie chased it to a clump of trees, then gave up.

She turned to Dana and Maggie. “The llamas are loose. That’s why we heard the alarm on the gate. Someone opened it and let them out.”

Then she took off, running out to the dirt road that stretched between the farmhouse and the meadow. Dana and Maggie followed, just a few yards behind. Maggie was glad she had on flat shoes. But they weren’t sneakers and weren’t made for farm work, either.

“Look, there’s one . . . and another over there.” Dana
slowed her pace and pointed to the large, slow-moving shadows that lingered near the Country Store. And another that stepped out from behind a tree.

“Yes, I see them now. . . . They’re all over the place,” Maggie answered.

It was a clear night, and a half-moon cast the grounds in a shimmery light. Enough to see the animals if you knew they were there. Not enough to chase them around the farm on the uneven ground without breaking your neck, Maggie feared.

Never mind worrying about how they’d gotten loose in the first place—and who else might be out here.

Suddenly, bright lights shone from within the barn doorway. Maggie saw Ellie inside, and she soon came running out, carrying big yellow flashlights and leather leads for the llamas.

“At least the generator in the barn is working. Here, take these lights. When you find one of the llamas, just hook the tether to its head halter. They should follow you without too much trouble. We have to get them all back in the pasture. I’m afraid they might wander out to the road or get hurt in the woods.”

“We’ll get them, Ellie. Don’t worry.” Dana switched on her flashlight and turned to Maggie. “Let’s split up. I’ll go back toward the house and the field near the road. Why don’t you look around here and then back in the orchard? Ellie can take the area closest to the pasture and help us put them back behind the gate.”

“Good plan . . .” Maggie trotted off with her flashlight and llama leash. She actually had hoped to patrol the area near the pasture. The orchard was the darkest corner of the property.
She didn’t want to seem like a wimp, but she did feel around in her pocket for her big key ring.

She’d often read that a fistful of keys made an effective weapon. While she thought that might be true, she sorely wished she had her knitting bag handy. A thick, number-nineteen needle or her top-quality, Swiss shears would have given her even more courage.

Maggie soon spotted two of the escapees, both hiding behind Dot’s little cottage. Their long graceful necks were bent toward the ground as they nibbled on nubs of dewy grass in the moonlight.

Maggie paused to admire the surreal, dream-like picture.

Then sprang into action.

“Come here, you rascals . . .” She moved slowly and spoke quietly, mindful that they scared easily. The llamas lifted their heads, staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes. But they didn’t make a run for it—luckily, she thought.

Finally, she stood close, face to face. One llama was brown; the other had a light-tan coat. The brown one seemed to be squinting at her, then curled back its lips and spit.

Maggie felt the llama drool hit her face and saw green slime run down her good wool jacket. She started to brush it off with her hand, then got the creeps at the thought of touching it.

“How do I get myself into these things?”

She took a deep steadying breath, put down the light, and stepped quickly to the offender, who pulled its head back away from her hand, looking ready to bolt.

“Not so fast, pal.” Maggie grabbed the animal’s halter and clipped on the lead. “Gotcha.”

The llama squirmed a moment, then bowed its big head, acknowledging her victory.

“Now what about your friend? That’s the question.”

The other llama had been watching this capture but was still too interested in the sweet grass to take a cue and get on the move. Or perhaps it was tired of wandering and wanted to go back to sleep in its own pasture. Or do whatever llamas do at night, Maggie thought.

She considered the problem for a moment, then pulled off her scarf and tied one end to the tan llama’s halter. With both animals secure, she led them out from behind the cottage, back toward the pasture.

She was relieved to see that they followed without much fuss. Ellie had mentioned that all of her llamas were trained, but Maggie had not understood what that meant. Being led on tether by a human had clearly been one lesson. It was a little like walking two large dogs, and Maggie spoke to them quietly as they made their way back to the fenced section of the meadow. As much to calm their nerves as her own.