The Silence of the Llamas (13 page)

“Not if it’s little things you can make in a night or two. Like a one-skein scarf with big needles. Or a headband,” Lucy suggested. She was the queen of extra-large needles. She knew what she was talking about.

“We can sell nicer things for more,” Phoebe pointed out. “People will spend at least fifteen dollars on some really nice socks, for instance.”

“Or a very long scarf,” Dana added, stretching out her donated project.

“Very true. I think we shouldn’t even worry about the math,” Maggie told her friends. “Somehow, when you set out to do good, the universe conspires to help you along, and the math has a way of working out. Ever notice?”

Lucy had noticed that. As if some force for good gets in your corner.

“That’s true, Maggie,” Dana agreed. “Too bad Ellie isn’t here tonight. I know she’ll want to help. Especially since the goal is a gift of llamas. Maybe she would sell our items in the shop on her farm. I bet she’ll do some great publicity events and decorating there during the holidays.”

Lucy also thought Ellie would like this idea and would probably think of a million ways to attract visitors to her farm in the coming months. Lucy could practically see the farm decked out for Christmas, the llamas with garlands around their necks or dressed up in some sort of cute reindeer gear, complete with red-and-green halters and jingle bells.

But the holidays seemed a very long way off when she thought about the Laughing Llama Farm. There was so much trouble there. She felt as if a dark cloud hovered above the place now, casting everything in malevolent shadows.

The image of the wounded llama flailing on the ground in a puddle of her own blood stuck in Lucy’s mind. If these frightening events continued, what would happen at the farm by the end of the year . . . or even by the end of the month?

Lucy didn’t even want to imagine it.

M
aggie was sorry that Ellie had missed the meeting. She called her on Wednesday morning and told her about the holiday project the knitting group had decided on.

“And we’re going to use the money we raise to buy about three llamas to donate to families who will use the animals to start their own little businesses. Microeconomies . . . and all that. It’s all in the Heifer International pamphlet. I can show it to you.”

“I love that idea. Of course, I’ll help. I can sell some of the items in my shop.”

“We were hoping you’d say that.” Ellie hadn’t been part of their knitting circle very long, but it didn’t feel that way to Maggie. She’d always felt that Ellie was very much in tune with the group and added a certain, special energy.

“I’m a little tied down to the farm this week. Dot is needed at her other job. So Ben and I are in charge of the animals. I should be able to get into the village Saturday morning, after I do my chores. I can pick up the patterns then.”

“If you come around ten or so, Dana and Suzanne might be here. They usually drop in on Saturday morning around that time.”

Maggie thought that was a good plan. Dana and Suzanne often stopped in on Saturdays morning. Lucy did, too, sometimes. Even though they all said they were terribly busy and didn’t have time to hang around, they managed to gab and fit in a fair amount of knitting on those visits.

•   •   •

Maggie got to the shop a little later than usual on Saturday. She put on a pot of coffee, straightened the stock, and set out supplies on the worktable for her first class.

She also found the packet that she planned to give Ellie of fast and easy patterns for their fund-raising project and put it on the front counter.

Her friends were a creative bunch. Even though they were working from the same patterns, she was sure the items would all be attractive and diverse, embellished with the unique style of each knitter.

The phone rang. Maggie could tell from the caller ID that it was Ellie.

“Hi, Ellie. I just got your patterns together. I’m teaching a lesson from eleven to twelve, but—”

“Maggie . . . something terrible happened . . .” Maggie drew a breath. Ellie sounded as if she was in shock. On the brink of hysteria. “I couldn’t reach Dana,” Ellie’s shaky voice continued. “She’s not picking up her cell.”

“She’s still in her yoga class.” Maggie glanced at her watch. “It should be over any minute now.”

“I just need to tell someone . . .” Ellie paused. Maggie heard her draw in a deep, ragged breath.

“What is it? Was another llama killed?”

“No, not a llama . . . Justin Ridley.” Ellie could hardly speak now. Ridley’s name was emitted on a gasp.

Maggie stood in stone-cold silence, not knowing what to say. “Justin Ridley? That is awful. How did he die? Was it an accident?”

For some reason, all Maggie could picture was Ridley tramping around the woods in the dark, with his dogs and big gun, and tripping over a stone or root and shooting himself.

“No, not an accident. Just the opposite. Someone killed him. He was stabbed . . . in the throat . . . with . . . with a spindle. We heard his dogs barking and barking. Howling really loud. You know the way they do? It wasn’t even light out yet,” Ellie continued. “We let it go for a while. Sometimes we hear them at night, acting up, if Ridley’s roaming around. Finally Ben went out to check. Even though the police told him to stay away from Ridley. He saw the dogs loose on our property, just past the big tree in the meadow. When he got closer, he saw Ridley on the ground. He didn’t even realize he was dead. The dogs were guarding his body and they wouldn’t let Ben get by. Of course we called the police immediately. They caught the dogs somehow and rolled Ridley over. Then we all saw it, the spindle in his throat and all the blood . . . and . . . we knew.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say. The story was horrific and unbelievable. What a ghastly scene.

“How sad. . . . What’s happening now? Are the police still at your farm?”

“Yes, they’ve been here and at Ridley’s place for hours. A huge swarm of them. Detective Walsh is back. They’re searching every inch of our land and the woods . . . and Ridley’s property, too.”

Ellie gave a long, loud sigh. When she spoke, her tone was a mixture of tears and angry frustration. “Oh, Maggie, why is this happening to us? We just wanted to move out to the country, to live in peace and quiet. A simple life, close to nature. So far there’s been nothing simple or peaceful about it.”

“I’m so sorry, Ellie. I’ll bet the police are asking you and Ben a lot of questions.”

“Endlessly. But they haven’t asked us to go down to the police station or anything like that. So far, I mean,” she added in a hushed tone.

Maggie guessed that there were some law officers in the house in range of hearing her conversation. Or maybe Ben was near and she didn’t want him to overhear her.

“I wish I could help you in some way. Would you like me to come out there? Keep you and Ben company?”

Maggie wasn’t sure how that would help, but she meant it sincerely. Saturday was prime time at the shop, but she was willing to leave Phoebe in charge if it would help Ellie. She knew the Kruegers didn’t have any family in the area, and Ellie did sound in need of some support.

Maybe Dana would go. She wasn’t working today, Maggie remembered.

“Oh, thank you. That’s kind of you to offer. We’ll be fine. There’s nothing you can do. I just hope the police finish their business soon and leave us alone.”

“I hope so, too, Ellie,” Maggie said sincerely, though she expected just the opposite. A dead body had been found on their property. The victim was their neighbor and her husband’s avowed enemy. Maggie expected that the police would not be leaving the Kruegers alone any time soon at all.

Maggie hung up feeling anxious and wanted to share this story with her friends. She picked up her cell phone and started to send Dana a text. Dana didn’t like to be interrupted at yoga and most likely had her phone off, but Maggie thought she’d give it a try. At least she’d see the note as soon as class was over.

Maggie was slow at typing out texts. She could barely read the tiny keyboard and knew she was the only person on the planet who spelled out complete words and was mindful about punctuation.

She had barely punched in the opening words—“Dana, I have something important to tell you”—when the shop door flew open and Dana stood staring at her, still dressed in her sleek exercise outfit.

“Maggie . . . you’ll never believe it. Justin Ridley was murdered. It happened late last night. His body was found on Ellie’s farm. Jack just called me.”

Dana had dashed in the store and run straight to the counter. She was breathing a little heavily, and Maggie guessed that she’d jogged all the way from her car.

Maggie nodded. “I just heard about it. Ellie called. She was supposed to stop by this morning to get the patterns for our project. She told me the whole story . . . or at least what they know so far.”

“Poor Ellie. I have to call her. Maybe I should just go there, see if I could help in some way.”

“She didn’t want me to come, but you’re her closest friend in town. She might appreciate your company now.”

Maggie knew that Dana was a calm, steady presence in an emergency, and knew how the law worked, too. It would be good for Ellie and Ben to have her help right now.

Dana was already dialing Ellie’s number. She stood listening for a moment, and then Maggie heard her leave a message. “Ellie, it’s Dana. I just heard the bad news. I want to come out and help you and Ben. Give me a call when you can.”

She ended the call and looked back at Maggie. “I really want to help her, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“I know what you mean. It’s a fine line.” Maggie nodded and came out from behind the counter. Two women had entered the shop and were looking through a basket of angora yarn marked “New Arrivals.” They were regulars, and Maggie greeted them with a quick smile before turning back to Dana.

She’d settled on the love seat in the alcove near the front of the store and sipped from her water bottle. “What did Ellie tell you? I think Jack only got the highlights of the story.”

Maggie quickly recounted the conversation. “She said she couldn’t wait until the police left. As if that will be last of it for them.” Maggie shook her head. “It’s no secret that Ben despised Ridley and even threatened him the night the llama was killed. With police officers as witnesses, no less. He’ll be the first suspect Detective Walsh hones in on,” Maggie predicted. “We are talking about an investigator who does not look much
further than his own nose,” she reminded Dana. “I just hope Ridley had disputes with a few other neighbors.”

Dana seemed calmer about that question. “Sounds as if Mr. Ridley was a classic antisocial personality and not winning any popularity contests around here. The Kruegers can’t be the only ones who had words with him. I’d guess lots of his neighbors want to sell their land to the highest bidder come January and are annoyed at his interference with the open space issue.”

Maggie had considered that, as well, but it did feel better to hear Dana say it out loud.

But before Maggie could reply, Suzanne breezed into the shop, her big leather tote over one arm, a large takeout coffee drink in the other. Dressed in a Saturday sales outfit—a long black belted sweater, black dress pants, and a hot pink blouse—the attractive brunette looked very professional and very Suzanne.

“I never get one of these big special coffee drinks in the morning, but I really needed a little treat today. I pulled this open house in the Marshes. A total falling-down wreck . . . listed at top dollar. Why make it easy for the real-estate people?” She shook her head and set down her bag, the coffee, and a little white paper bag that Maggie suspected held some other well-deserved treat. “Now I have to sit there all morning. Total graveyard shift, I’m sure. But at least I’ll get some knitting done . . .”

Before she could say more, Maggie spoke up. “We have some news from Ellie’s farm. There was more trouble there last night.”

Suzanne put her cup down. “Really? What happened?”

“Somebody killed Justin Ridley,” Dana answered. “The body was found on Ellie and Ben’s property.”

“Oh, no . . . that’s awful. How did he die?”

“Stabbed in the throat, with a spindle,” Maggie explained.

“Just like Ellie’s llama. Wasn’t Daphne stabbed, too?”

“That’s right.” Dana nodded. “A strange coincidence. Or maybe he was killed that way on purpose,” she quickly added.

“Where were Ellie and Ben?” Suzanne turned to Maggie, her expression a mixture of shock and curiosity.

“Asleep in bed. It happened sometime in the middle of the night. A few hours before dawn, Ellie said. Ridley’s dogs woke them up, barking and howling. Ben found the dogs guarding the body, out in the pasture somewhere.”

“He must have been out hunting. Just like the Kruegers said he always did. And someone . . . got him,” Suzanne added.

“Yes, but now that you mention it, I wonder why he didn’t defend himself. They said he always carried a gun.” Maggie looked at Dana, wondering if she knew any more about that question.

“Jack didn’t say one way or the other if the police found a hunting rifle nearby. I’ll have to ask him later,” Dana replied.