The Silence of the Llamas (14 page)

“So nobody heard an argument or anything? Where was Dot? She lives in that little cottage. That’s even closer to the meadow,” Suzanne recalled.

“Dot wasn’t home. She was at her other job. She’s a home health aide and often stays over with her patient,” Dana explained.

“Ellie mentioned that to me, too,” Maggie added.

Suzanne was picking small bites from a muffin in the paper bag, chewing thoughtfully. “I wonder how the killer got close enough to stab him. I mean, if the dogs were so
protective of him dead, imagine how they felt when he was alive.”

“What is in that coffee drink? You are really on your game today.” Dana’s tone was admiring.

“Thanks . . . too bad I’m not showing some really hot property. What a waste of a good groove.”

“It’s hard to get everything working together, isn’t it?” Maggie sympathized. “I’m sure your groove won’t go to waste entirely,” she added. “But getting back to Ridley, that is an excellent point. It suggests it was someone who knew the dogs, doesn’t it?”

“Or knew how to get around them,” Dana added. “Maybe the police will find some solid physical evidence that answers these questions. I think this investigation is going to be complicated. And Justin Ridley was a real cipher, to hear Ellie and Ben tell it. Who knows what an investigation will turn up about him.”

Maggie agreed. You learned a lot about a person once they passed on. Sometimes acts of kindness and altruism they’d kept anonymous. Sometimes the psychic wounds, shady dealing, or unsanctioned relationships they had struggled to hide from the world—and even struggled to deny within themselves. Urges and acts that contradicted their own cherished self-image and reputation.

So much came bubbling to the surface during a murder investigation. Maggie had learned that lesson. It was only a little over a year ago that their good friend Gloria Sterling had died, found drowned in her swimming pool. Maggie and her friends believed they had known Gloria well. But after Gloria’s death, Maggie wondered if she’d ever known her at all. Gloria
had secrets. And Justin Ridley probably did, too; Maggie had little doubt.

“Oh, darn . . . look at the time. I’ve got to run.” Suzanne hopped up from her seat and gathered her belongings, sweeping out as quickly as she’d come in. As she stepped out the shop door, she turned and called back to them, “Keep me posted. I’m going to ask the real-estate gurus if they think Ridley’s passing will impact the big debate in town.”

“It could be a game changer,” Dana agreed. “That’s another angle the investigation should consider.”

“Should consider,” Maggie echoed. “Will consider?” She sighed. “No comment.”

Dana rose and grabbed her water bottle. “I’m going home to grab a shower. So I’ll be ready if Ellie calls. I don’t want to go out there uninvited. They may need their privacy right now, or just be too busy with the police. I guess I’ll wait to hear from her.”

“Good idea. She might want you there, but maybe they are too overwhelmed right now.”

Just as her friends left, two customers entered the store. Maggie greeted them and answered their questions about a felting project one of the women had started in a class at the shop. It hadn’t gone very well, Maggie noticed. The customer had been aiming for a tote bag and wound up with a coin purse. As usual, Maggie tried to make the best of the situation and tactfully showed her where she’d gone wrong.

As the day went on, a steady stream of customers commanded her attention and Maggie’s thoughts turned away from Justin Ridley’s murder. But just as she was closing up, she found an e-mail from Dana, sent from her iPhone.

Maggie—Finally reached Ellie. The police did ask Ben to go down to the station today. As a formality, they say. But she’s very upset. I’m going out to the farm tomorrow, around noon. Are you busy? Want to take a ride with me? Dana

Maggie replied with a quick note:

I have no plans and would love to come. I’ll bring Ellie her patterns and some yarn, and we can both bring her some comfort and encouragement.—M.

Much needed comfort and encouragement, Maggie reflected. The police weren’t wasting any time. Formality or not, they were looking hard at Ben Krueger as a suspect. Or “a person of interest,” as law officials called it.

That was the first step. The Kruegers had to be careful now that Ben did not travel any further down this sorry path.

•   •   •

Ellie had invited them for lunch, and Dana picked up Maggie at noon the next day. Maggie had been looking forward to a ride into the country, though the actual visit at the farm did not promise to be relaxing. Anything but, she expected.

The weather was just the opposite of the temperate Indian summer day they’d all enjoyed at the festival only a week before. A low, gray sky stretched above the open fields that streamed past, and dark clouds were a backdrop to flocks of geese, practicing for the long flight south.

As Maggie got out of Dana’s Volvo and grabbed her purse
and knitting tote from the backseat, a damp, chilling breeze cut through her thick sweater and fluffy brown wrap.

Dana had parked in the circle in front of the farmhouse. She’d brought a few things to cheer Ellie up, a box of pastries from a fancy bakery and a bunch of flowers. It might have been a purely social call, Maggie thought, except for the subject they’d be most likely to discuss.

“Lucy wanted to come, too,” Dana said as they headed for the front door, “but she has a deadline on a project and has to stay in and work all day.”

“It’s just as well. Ellie and Ben might feel invaded if too many of us descend on them.”

Ellie greeted them warmly and led them inside. “Thanks for coming out. It’s so good to see friendly faces.”

They followed her into the dining room, where the table was set with a floral-patterned cloth and old-fashioned-looking china.

“What beautiful dishes, Ellie. They go perfectly with the house,” Maggie noticed.

“I bought these dishes at a tag sale when we’d just started looking at property around here. I think this is the first time I’ve used them for entertaining. I thought we would have made more connections out here by now. I imagined lots of new friends. Dinner parties. That sort of thing.” She sighed and headed to the kitchen. “It hasn’t turned out like that at all, has it?”

Maggie and Dana exchanged a glance. They followed her into the big country kitchen. “You have the knitting group,” Dana reminded her. “That’s a start, right?”

Ellie turned from the counter, where she was tossing a
green salad. She touched Dana’s arm. “That’s a lot. Really. I didn’t mean to sound as if I don’t treasure your friendship. Believe me. I do.”

They were all silent for a moment. Maggie felt as if Ellie had slipped away into her private thoughts and concerns.

“Can we help you with something? Carry things out?”

“Oh, yes . . . please. There’s a basket with rolls and a platter of cheese on the sideboard. I have some grilled chicken in the oven.”

The lunch was quickly set out. It looked delicious, and Maggie felt suddenly hungry. She noticed that the table was only set for three and wondered about Ben.

Dana was bold enough to ask. “How is Ben doing? Isn’t he having lunch with us?”

Ellie filled their glasses with sparkling water and then her own. “He said it sounded like a girls’ thing. He felt a little awkward. He’s still upset after yesterday. He took a ride to Newburyport. There’s a movie house up there that shows classic films. I think he said he was going to see
Arsenic and Old Lace.
”

“That’s a good one. With Cary Grant when he was very young,” Maggie said, though she couldn’t remember the plot.

“Yes, that’s the one. Ben is a bit of a film buff. That’s one thing he misses up here. That and good Thai or Indian food.”

Ellie laughed, and her friends did, too. But Maggie thought it sounded a bit forced.

“Newburyport isn’t that far. That town has everything Ben likes,” Dana pointed out. “It was probably a good idea for him to go up there and unwind.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Ellie agreed.

While they enjoyed Ellie’s well-prepared meal, Maggie took out the patterns and yarn she’d brought. They talked about their plans for the knitting charity project and other random topics, carefully avoiding the Ridley murder.

But once the dishes were cleared away and Ellie brought in coffee and dessert, the conversation turned back to Justin Ridley and Ben’s experience at the hands of local law enforcement.

“They kept saying it was just a formality. But it really was an ordeal,” Ellie admitted. “No wonder Ben needs to zone out at the movies today. I don’t think I’ve ever been inside a police station before. Maybe once, just in the entranceway for some reason. Ben was taken back to some office. I wasn’t allowed to go with him. I had to sit in a waiting area outside.”

“Did you call an attorney?” Dana’s voice was quiet, but Maggie sensed her intense concern.

Ellie just shook her head and stared down at the table. “Everything was happening so fast. The police just said they wanted to ask more questions. We didn’t think . . .” She suddenly lifted her head. “Ben didn’t need a lawyer. He didn’t hurt Justin Ridley. He never went near him.”

“I know.” Dana reached across the table and touched Ellie’s hand. “I just wish you’d called me. I know he had nothing to do with Ridley’s death, but he should have a lawyer anyway. Just so the police don’t step all over his rights.” Dana was concerned, and she sounded like it.

“Dana’s right,” Maggie quietly chimed in. “I was in the same situation. I doubt I’d be sitting here, having this lovely lunch, if I hadn’t taken that advice.”

Ellie didn’t answer at first. “All right. I’ll have Ben call Jack
tomorrow and get a recommendation, whether we need it or not. I still hope yesterday was the end of it.”

Dana took a sip of coffee. “What happened at the police station? Besides the questioning. Did they ask for Ben’s fingerprints or a DNA sample?”

Maggie could see Ellie was reluctant to answer. Finally she nodded. “Yes, they did. They kept saying it was just so they could eliminate Ben from the investigation. Ben found the body, and even the police had seen him argue with Ridley. Ben just did what they said. He knows he’s innocent and just wanted to get out of there. I was upset at first,” she admitted, “but later I thought, well, maybe this is a good thing. If they find fingerprints or other evidence, they’ll see he’s not a match. They’ll have to accept that he wasn’t involved.”

“Good point. Detective Walsh could be onto a new lead right now,” Maggie said sincerely.

Dana, who was always more objective and dispassionate in her thinking, didn’t let it go at that. “Did they say they’d found fingerprints on the spindle?”

“I’m not sure. They didn’t tell Ben if they did,” Ellie replied.

Dana’s expression was serious. “It doesn’t necessarily mean that they didn’t. It could be that they’re having trouble lifting off a clean image. Or they’re just not ready to disclose that information. I’ll ask Jack to find out for you. Do you know what type of spindle it was?” she continued. “Did it have any yarn or fiber on it?”

Ellie looked upset by this question. Maggie was sorry Dana had pressed. But she was wondering about that, too.

“The police told Ben it was the same type of spindle I gave out at the festival. I must have given away at least a hundred of
them. Maybe more. Anybody who came to the fair could have one and could have killed Ridley. We told the police that,” she added quickly. “But I kept getting the feeling that they still connected the spindle with us, with me and Ben.”

With Ben, she really meant. Maggie just nodded.

She hadn’t even addressed the other question, about fiber on the murder weapon. A good one, Maggie thought. A piece of physical evidence like that could say a lot.

Suddenly Ellie bowed her head and covered her face with her hands. “I know Ben has a bad temper sometimes. He’s very emotional. But he could never do anything like this. Never in a million years.”

She was quietly crying, and Dana leaned over and laid a hand on her back.

“Ellie, please don’t cry. I’m sorry for all the questions. I’m just concerned. I know what you’re saying is true. I don’t believe Ben did this, either.”

“Oh, it isn’t that. . . . You didn’t ask anything worse than Detective Walsh did yesterday. That’s for sure.” Ellie lifted her head and wiped her eyes with a tissue. “And I do know you’re trying to help. But it’s even worse than you think.” She sighed and took a deep breath. “The police asked where Ben was at the time of the murder. He said he was with me the entire night and only got up when the dogs woke us. That must have been about . . . half past four, or even five o’clock,” she added.

“But he wasn’t with you?” Maggie leaned forward in her seat. Ellie was talking so quietly now she could hardly hear her.

“No . . . not the whole night. But once we called the police,
we knew they’d ask us that. So we agreed to stick to that story. It’s just . . . less complicated.”

“Less complicated than what? Where was he . . . exactly?” Dana asked.

“Ben has trouble sleeping through the night from time to time. We thought moving to the country would help. All the fresh air and exercise?” She shook her head, as if baffled now by her own naïveté. “It did help at first, but there are still stresses here. Maybe even more, in some ways.”

Dana looked as if she wanted to ask more questions, but restrained herself. “Go on, Ellie. We’re listening,” she said simply. “He doesn’t sleep well some nights.”

“He starts off fine, snoring away,” Ellie continued. “Then he wakes up and worries and gets so agitated, he has to get up, walk around. He usually goes into his office awhile. He’ll tinker with our website or take care of the orders. Or go over our finances. That rarely helps to put him back to sleep,” she added with a sigh.

“He worries about your business,” Maggie clarified.

“Night and day,” Ellie answered in a sad tone. “I feel so responsible. I was the one who pushed to come out here. He would have been happy to put the money we got from selling my PR firm in some easy, no-fuss investment—an apartment building or a fast food franchise. But I wanted the farm and the fiber business, and he wanted to make me happy.”