The Silence of the Llamas (8 page)

“Me? Of course not. That’s not my style. I did take a look one night,” Maggie admitted. “Just out of curiosity. . . . But the form asked too many questions. I thought it was all quite expensive . . . and annoying.”

“Well, it worked for Ellie and Ben,” Dana cut in. “And I agree they’ve been under a huge amount of stress with so many important life changes. Even without any harassment and vandalism tossed into the pot, that kind of pressure can definitely affect a person’s judgment. It’s only natural to look for a cause to the situation. Or someone to blame.”

“A scapegoat, you mean?” Lucy asked.

“ ‘Scapegoat’ is a polite way of putting it. It sounds more like they’ve demonized this Justin Ridley,” Maggie said frankly. “Unless . . . well, unless he’s really as strange and extreme in his views as they say. Which is possible,” she conceded.

“It is,” Dana agreed. “I just don’t understand why they haven’t brought in the police. Despite their explanation.”

“Me, either,” Maggie said, turning at a dark, empty crossroads. “But maybe after this incident and our coaxing, they will. Personally, I’d be afraid that whoever wishes them ill will come back and do it again. Or take even more violent action.”

“I feel the same, Maggie. I think we were both clear about that and voiced our concern. That’s all we can do. We can’t make them report it to the police. That has to be their own decision.”

“Yes, I know, but . . .” Maggie’s voice trailed off on a sigh.

Lucy shared their concerns but had a slightly different take. “If they don’t report this to the police, I wonder if Matt has an obligation to. As a vet.”

“The same as a doctor who treats a child that he or she suspects might have been abused?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“Interesting. I never thought of that.” Dana’s tone was thoughtful. “I wonder if Jack knows. I’ll ask when I get back.”

“I’ll ask Matt, too. Or maybe he’s already reported it. Even if he doesn’t have a legal obligation, I’m sure he feels a moral one.” She knew Matt. He was not the type to let this go, to sit by and let someone harm animals without any consequences.

Maggie glanced at her. “Do you think he’ll go around Ellie
and Ben? That might be a problem for them. I guess we’ll see Ellie on Tuesday night, at the meeting. We can find out what happened then.”

Lucy thought that was true, though she hoped that they would hear before Tuesday that Ellie and Ben had called the police and were doing all they could to get to the bottom of this disturbing situation.

O
n Monday morning, Maggie arrived at her shop a bit early to give herself time to unload her car. A chore she wasn’t looking forward to. At this time of day there were plenty of parking spaces, and she parked right in front of the knitting shop.

Maggie had opened the shop about three years ago and had been lucky to find the perfect spot: the first floor of a freestanding Victorian that had once been a house, right in the middle of Main Street.

Set back a fair space, the building had a peaked roof, a wraparound porch, and plenty of classic trim. Maggie had dressed it up with flower boxes and a border of perennials along the brick path from the sidewalk and more beds along the bottom of the porch. Whatever the season, she took care to make the shop look inviting, with eye-catching displays in the big bay window.

She’d been an art teacher for more than twenty years at
Plum Harbor High School and had found great satisfaction in that career. But soon after her husband, Bill, died, Maggie knew it was time to start a new phase of her life. Knitting was her passion, and teaching came so naturally. She had always daydreamed about opening a knitting shop—combining her talents and knowledge—and knew it was time to try.

After all this time, she never tired of getting up and going out to open her store. She still felt a little thrill each time she unlocked the door. Being a shopkeeper was much more interesting work than she’d expected. You really never knew what the day might bring.

This day was going to bring a backache, Maggie realized, if she wasn’t careful about unloading her car.

Luckily, just as she tugged out the first carton, she spotted Lucy coming down Main Street, tugged along by her golden retriever, Tink, and on the other lead of her two-dog leash by Matt’s dog, Walley, an aging but amazingly resilient three-legged chocolate Labrador retriever.

Lucy usually walked the dogs down to the village around this time, especially in good weather. Today Maggie was particularly happy to see her.

“There you are,” Maggie greeted her friend. “I was just wondering if you were stopping by this morning.”

“Wondering if I’d come in time to help you unload your car, you mean?” Lucy smiled, seeing through the fawning greeting.

“Well, that, too,” Maggie admitted. “Many hands make light work, and all that.”

Lucy tied the dogs to the porch railing and came down
again to help with the boxes of yarn and other supplies Maggie had used at her booth.

“I always promise myself I’m not going to bring half the store to those fairs. But I can’t seem to pack light,” Maggie admitted.

“I know what you mean. I have the same problem going away for a weekend.”

“I hate it when my booth looks skimpy,” Maggie explained. “It gives a bad impression to potential customers,” Maggie continued as they returned to the car for another load. “Ellie’s fair was certainly crowded enough. It was great event . . . until the end, I mean.”

“Yes, too bad it ended on such a bad note.”

After three loads, the car was not quite empty but Maggie’s back had begun to pinch and she thought Lucy had worked hard enough for her daily cup of coffee.

“Let’s leave the rest. I’ll get Princess Phoebe to haul her share when she comes in. Whenever that turns out to be.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Lucy said cheerfully.

Maggie and Lucy went inside again, and Maggie dropped a carton on the long oak worktable at the back of the shop, along with a pile of mail she’d found at the front door.

“I wonder if there’s anything in the newspaper about the fair or the paint ball attack. I wonder if Ellie and Ben called the police.” Lucy took at seat at the table and looked up at her.

“I was wondering about that, too. The paper is in this stack of mail. Why don’t you take a look and I’ll make some coffee?”

While Lucy paged through the latest edition of the
Plum Harbor Times,
Maggie slipped back into the storeroom, which
had originally been a kitchen. A few fixtures and appliances were still intact, which came in handy.

She brought out two mugs of coffee and sat at the table across from her friend.

“Here’s something.” Lucy turned the paper around so Maggie could see the page.

A black-and-white photo showed the striped tents with a furry-headed alpaca smiling for the camera. Or looking a lot like it was smiling, Maggie thought.

Lucy read the short article aloud: “ ‘Fiber Fest Fun,’ ” she began. “ ‘It was a day of good old-fashioned family fun at Laughing Llama Farm Grand Opening Fiber Festival, held Saturday noon to five. The farm, owned by Ellen and Ben Krueger, hosted many vendors, with exhibits of spinning and other handcrafts, along with demonstrations of sheepherding and shearing . . .’ ” Lucy looked up. “There’s more but it’s just a fluff piece—no pun intended. Nothing about the attack on the llamas.”

Maggie had opened a carton and began sorting skeins of yarn on the table. “I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad. Good for Ellie’s publicity efforts, I guess. I suppose she scared the reporter off the paint ball story. But it probably means they didn’t call the police after all.”

Lucy leaned back and sipped her coffee. “Maybe the Kruegers called the police yesterday. After they thought about it a little and it was too late to appear in today’s paper.”

“Maybe,” Maggie murmured. They could have called on Sunday. But she had a feeling that they had not. “Did you hear anything more about the llamas, from Matt?”

Lucy nodded. “Matt called a few times yesterday to check their progress. I think he planned to go out to the farm this afternoon to see Buttercup. He said that, so far, they are all coming along with no setbacks.”

“That’s good to hear. It sounds like the patients are getting excellent care.”

“The very best,” Lucy agreed.

Maggie had to smile at the way Lucy beamed. She was proud of Matt and very much in love. It was sweet to see. Matt had moved into Lucy’s cottage about six months ago, and the glow wasn’t gone yet. A good sign, Maggie thought.

Maggie wondered if they’d get engaged soon, maybe at Christmas? But she didn’t like to pry and wouldn’t offer her opinion unless Lucy asked for it. Unlike their other friends.

“I did ask if he was obliged to report the incident,” Lucy added. “If the Kruegers haven’t already. He said he was but didn’t want to put them in a difficult position. He’s going to talk to them about it again today.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Maggie sipped her coffee.

“Look at this, an article about the open space laws.” Lucy had turned the page and now folded the paper to read aloud again. “ ‘The village trustees will meet in a special session to discuss the open space zoning laws that are due to expire throughout Essex County the first of the coming year. A proposal to keep the laws on the books within village limits, drafted by citizens’ group Friends of Farmland, will be discussed in a town hall open forum meeting next Thursday night.”

“That should be a lively one,” Maggie predicted. “Every time
I need to sit through a meeting at the village hall, I practically fall asleep. I might try to catch this one, though it does conflict with knitting group night,” she added. “But I don’t know much about this issue, beyond Ellie and Ben’s side of the story.”

Lucy looked up from the newspaper. “If we take Ellie and Ben at their word, this debate will be more than lively. It could get downright ugly.”

Maggie was thinking the same thing. “It would be interesting to see the personalities involved,” Lucy added. “Justin Ridley will be there, don’t you think? Didn’t Ellie say he was the head of the Friends of Farmland?”

“ ‘Ringleader’ is the exact term she used,” Maggie recalled. “Yes, I think he would be there. Unless he’s even more of a recluse than the Kruegers make him out to be. What else does it say?”

Lucy looked back at the paper and continued. “ ‘Attorneys for Friends of Farmland assert that as an incorporated village, Plum Harbor has the right to maintain the open space zoning laws within town limits, regardless of the county’s change. Attorneys for the village are still studying the proposal and have not made a recommendation to the mayor and trustees.’ ”

“It’s like states’ rights or something,” Maggie observed. “Not a bad thing, when you think of it. I don’t know that much about the issue. But being out there on Saturday, I have to say, I wouldn’t want to see that beautiful countryside looking like the turnpike up near the interstate. It does seem worth the fight to preserve it.”

“I love it out there, too. I love the emptiness and peacefulness. I understand why people are passionate about the cause.
But I hate to think that Ellie and Ben are caught in the cross fire and someone really is trying to force off them off their farm because of all this. That doesn’t seem fair or right to me, either.”

Maggie felt the same. “When are the village trustees due to vote? Does it say?” she asked after a moment.

Lucy looked back at the paper, then shook her head. “Nothing about that here. Soon, I’d guess. Maybe once the issue is decided things will settle down and that will help Ellie and Ben.”

“I hope so.” Maggie had emptied the first carton and started on another.

Lucy glanced at her watch. “Whoops, look at the time. I’ve got to run. I didn’t even get to show you my little knitting glitch.” Lucy peered into her knitting tote but didn’t take out her project. “That easy, breezy argyle vest I started for Matt? It’s acting up again.”

“That’s too bad. I thought you’d take to intarsia in a snap.” Maggie gave Lucy an encouraging smile. Lucy was a skillful knitter—not as advanced as some others in their group, but she hadn’t been knitting as long, either. Maggie thought she was quite able but lacked confidence. She needed to break through the argyle ceiling on her own, if possible.

Lucy was not the only one to bring Maggie her knitting mishaps. Not by a long shot. Maggie sorted out just about everyone’s tangles and lost stitches. It was her particular genius and calling. Her friends had started calling her the local EFT—Emergency Fiber Technician. An odd little nickname, but it fit her pretty well, she had to admit.

Lucy closed the bag and hooked it over her arm. “Oh, I’ll figure it out. I’d better get Monday started.”

Maggie was surprised but impressed. “It’s the right thing to do, Lucy. Sorting out your own knitting problems builds character.”

“Thanks for the tough love. I’ll try to remember that when I’m about to throw this mess across the TV room.”

“As long as you don’t throw it at Matt, I think a little venting can be a good thing,” Maggie advised.

Lucy waved and headed out the door. Alert to her approach, the dogs were both up on their hind legs, noses pressed against the big bay window at the front of the store.