The Silence of the Llamas (31 page)

“Now you have a real-life example to cite in your term paper,” Maggie pointed out. “Speaking of old movies, that reminds me. Remember when Ben told us he’d gone to see
Arsenic and Old Lace
at the Newburyport Cinema Arts Center? That movie wasn’t showing. It was, fittingly enough,
Gaslight
, another classic.”

“Good old Ben. It seems that he was rarely any place that he said he was,” Dana replied. “The private investigator that Janine Ridley hired told the police Ben had not been catching up on old movies but meeting with representatives of different development companies, trying to negotiate the best deal for the farm. He planned to have a good deal in place by the time he persuaded Ellie to sell. He also admitted that he never wanted to run the farm and pretty much despised the whole operation—the spinning, the llamas, the works. But he knew the land would be valuable once the open space laws expired, so it was a fantastic investment. He knew they’d be set for life if they lived there a short time and flipped it. But first he had to sour the whole situation for Ellie. That’s why he started vandalizing the place and acting as if their neighbors wanted them out.”

“So he had only bought the place to resell it. Just what Ridley had accused him of doing,” Lucy realized.

“Exactly. Ridley saw right through him. Ben was a squatter, exploiting the land preservation issue for his own gain. Ellie was innocent and totally used by him.”

“Poor Ellie. How is she holding up? I forgot to ask about her.” Suzanne sounded a bit guilty, and Lucy felt the same. She had been the pawn in both scenarios, tricked and betrayed by both Dot and her husband.

“Ellie is very shocked and sad. She won’t even speak to Ben right now. But she was relieved that he didn’t murder Ridley. He’d hidden so much from her, she told me last night, she’d honestly been afraid that he was guilty,” Dana confided.

“I guess they’ll separate,” Suzanne said quietly. “Do you think Ellie will leave the farm? It might be hard for her to stay there, after all these weird events.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask her about that. It’s too soon for her to decide,” Dana replied. “She did say she was glad that she had at least made some good friends here, and is so grateful that we all stepped up to help her these past few weeks.”

“I hope she doesn’t go,” Phoebe said suddenly. “I really like Ellie, and I love that farm. Maybe I could move out there and be her assistant now . . . and live in that little cottage.” Phoebe darted a playful glance in Maggie’s direction.

“You already have a good job, Phoebe, and a nice apartment. And a very nice boss, too,” Maggie patiently reminded her. “And there’s no llama herding or mucking out barns involved. The grass is always greener, you know?”

“Especially over a dead husband,” Suzanne piped up.

“Suzanne . . . please. It’s nothing to laugh about,” Lucy scolded her, though she couldn’t help laughing as hard as anyone. Queasy stomach and all.

W
hat a beautiful pie. Did you make that, Dana?” Maggie and her friends sat around the worktable at the back of her shop. All eyes were on Dana as she came out of the storeroom with their dessert.

“Yes, I did,” Dana replied with an air of subdued pride. “I’m not a big baker, as you all know. But Ellie gave me an easy recipe for the crust.”

Maggie wondered if the recipe had come from Ellie’s former farmhand, Dot . . . also known as Trudy Hooper. But she decided not to ask. Why ruin everyone’s appetite? She’d warmed the pie in the oven, and the sugary, cinnamon smell was a sweet perfume, especially on such a chilly night.

“Too bad Ellie couldn’t come tonight,” Lucy said as Dana sliced into the pie. “I was hoping to see her.”

“She’s been very busy on the farm, getting ready for the winter. But she actually had to go into Boston today to meet with a divorce attorney. It will take a while for everything to
be finalized. But Ben has signed a separation agreement, so it shouldn’t drag out too long.”

“That’s the least he could do for her, all things considered,” Maggie said tartly.

Suzanne had already taken a bite of pie but couldn’t help responding. “What a big fat zero that guy turned out to be. She is so well rid of him.”

Dana nodded. “I think she knows that, rationally. But she did love him, and she married him. She has a lot to work out before she gets past this. It’s not just signing a document. Though that will help,” she added.

“I’m glad she decided to stay on the farm and run it herself. At least she didn’t let him take that dream away from her, too,” Suzanne said.

“I was happy to hear that, too.” Maggie took a bite of the pie, savoring the sweet and tart flavors. “I think in time she’ll find that this whole, difficult ordeal has made her a stronger person. And a wiser one.”

“She’s sad now . . . and tired,” Dana admitted. “But she does seem more centered somehow. And even more determined to make the farm a success. I’m glad she has that to focus on.”

Suzanne had finished her pie and taken up her knitting again. “She’ll need some help, I guess, with Dot out of the picture.”

“She does need help but is going to wait until the spring to hire someone full-time. She’s already rented out the cottage to a young couple,” Dana added. “That reminds me, there was some news about Dot in the paper today. Did anyone see it? She worked out a deal with the district attorney for a reduced sentence to Ridley’s murder. The state has decided to forgo a
trial for Joe Hooper’s murder since she was on record as a battered wife and claims it was self-defense.”

“I was wondering about that. I’d been picturing Walter Kranowski called to the witness stand,” Lucy told the others. “For some reason, every time I imagined the courtroom, there was this big, ugly recliner next to the judge instead of a witness chair.”

Everyone laughed—except for Suzanne, Maggie noticed. “That is so weird. I pictured it the same way,” Suzanne confessed. “We may see Farmer Kranowski in court sooner or later anyway. I bet he wanted to run someone over with his tractor when he heard the way the town council voted on the open space law proposition.”

“The Friends of Farmland had a victory party,” Lucy added. “Angelica Rossi was on TV the other night. Did you guys see her?”

“No, thank goodness. That woman gets on my last nerve,” Suzanne said bluntly. “Not just because I’m in real estate and she has single-handedly ruined our college tuition fund.” She laughed at her own joke. “Seriously, I’m glad the town decided to keep the open space laws around here. But like Kranowski said, this isn’t the last of it. There are going to be a lot of lawsuits, back and forth, for years.”

“Just like there was a lot of debate for years about keeping the laws, or letting them expire,” Dana noted. “Despite the way I feel about Angelica, I’ve already donated to the Friends of Farmland legal fund. They have a website now if anyone is interested.”

“I am,” Lucy replied, as she took out her knitting. “But speaking of worthy causes, how are we doing with our llama fund? Is anyone keeping track of our progress?”

Maggie glanced at Phoebe, who was quietly eating her second slice of pie and ice cream. She’d hardly touched Maggie’s hearty vegetarian chili, so at least she was eating something, Maggie thought. Apples were healthy. Ice cream had calcium, didn’t it?

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ve got it all figured out. I think we’re pretty close.” She scooped up a last mouthful, then wiped her hands on a napkin before reaching into the shiny plastic Hello Kitty tote bag she used for her knitting.

She drew out a sheaf of papers, fastened together with a big pink paper clip. “Wait . . . I need to borrow these a minute.” She picked up Maggie’s glasses and slipped the beaded chain around her neck, then sat up straight, assuming a much more dignified air and attitude.

“Phoebe . . . is that necessary?” Maggie turned to her, feeling a bit miffed but still amused by the imitation.

“I’m not dissing you, Mag. Just getting into the mind-set,” Phoebe said innocently.

Maggie sighed. “All right. Just get on with it.”

“Well, ladies, I’ve been looking over the numbers and we’re doing very well, actually. We’re very close to our goal, and there are six weeks left until Christmas.”

Phoebe’s imitation of Maggie made the rest of the group laugh out loud.

“Thanks for the good news, Maggie—I mean Phoebe,” Suzanne countered. “So what’s the bottom line? I remember we needed about four hundred and fifty dollars to donate three llamas. How close are we?”

“We’ve collected three hundred and forty seven dollars,” Phoebe reported, reading off the top sheet. “We have
twenty-two items out for sale at this shop, The Country Store at Ellie’s farm, the Schooner diner, and Suzanne’s office. If we sell all of those things by Christmas—which is highly likely,” she added, slipping into her Maggie voice again, “we will surpass our goal . . . and can probably donate something more, a few chickens or maybe a pair of rabbits?”

“Thank you for that encouraging report, Phoebe. Good work, everyone,” Maggie added, glancing around at her friends.

“What great news. We are awesome, aren’t we? I’d vote for the bunnies. But it’s great that we can donate even more than we thought.” Suzanne smiled at her friends, looking pleased and proud.

“I’m willing to keep going,” Lucy replied, taking up her needles again. “Let’s look at the Heifer catalog later and see what else we can get.”

“Wait . . . I found this cool quote for you guys . . .” Phoebe flipped a few pages and began to read aloud again. “The anthropologist Margaret Mead said, ‘Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.’ ” She looked up at her friends and smiled.

Maggie had heard that bit of wisdom before and definitely agreed. “I think that goes double when the committed people are wielding knitting needles. But I suppose I am biased on that subject.”