The Silence of the Llamas

by Anne Canadeo

  “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.

  Chapter Eleven

  Maggie 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.

  “Good girls. Very good. We’re almost there. Just a little farther to go.”

  There was one more llama left in her section, back in the orchard, she’d noticed. She’d have to go back to nab that one, too. She certainly couldn’t leave a man behind on the battlefield.

  “Oh, great . . . Siri and Natasha.” Ellie ran up to them, recognizing Maggie’s charges immediately. “I’ll put them behind the gate. We’re only missing three more.” She sounded breathless but far less panicked than before.

  “Here comes Dana with two.” Maggie pointed with her light. “And there’s one more in the orchard. I’ll go back and get her.”

  “Great, I’ll take these girls from you.” Ellie took hold of the lead and the scarf attached to the second animal, then gave Maggie another lead that was slung around her neck.

  Maggie waved her light at Dana as they passed each other in the open space between the house and barn.

  Dana waved back. “And we thought this was going to be a dull night. Dinner and a movie,” she called over.

  Maggie just laughed. The orchard still looked dark and spooky, but she forced herself to focus on the llama, which she had captured in a beam of light.

  The long-necked beast wandered between the rows of apple trees, moving with a surprisingly deft step. The trees were planted very close together, bare now of leaves, the thick low branches clawing at the night sky.

  The ground felt soft and bumpy under her shoes, and her head filled with the sickly sweet scent of rotting apples. She felt them underfoot, spongy and mushy as she walked along. They were all around on the ground, in various states of decomposition, and more than once, her feet nearly slipped out from under her.

  Maggie began to pick up her pace, casting her light on the ground instead of at the llama so she wouldn’t slip. She came to the end of a row of trees and spotted her prey behind another fence, the temporary type that gardeners put up to keep deer and rabbits out of the
vegetable patch: thin metal stakes in the ground, with cheap wire fencing wrapped around.

  A section had been pulled loose and the area opened far enough to allow the llama to wander in. Maggie wandered in, too, her gaze now fixed on the llama.

  There were some shovels on the ground and piles of dirt. She carefully stepped over them. She saw saplings, newly planted, the edges of burlap bags showing where the trunks met mounds of fresh ground. It looked as if she’d wandered into a new section of the orchard, one that was just being planted.

  The fenced-in space was not very large, and Maggie was determined to catch her prey before the llama could go full circle and escape through the opening again.

  “Maggie . . . where are you?”

  She heard Dana calling and glanced over her shoulder to see a beam of light, waving around in the apple trees.

  “Over here . . . at the end of the row,” Maggie called. She waved her light and hoped she had not startled the llama.

  The llama suddenly stood stone still. Perhaps it was scared but didn’t know what to do. Time to make my move, Maggie thought. No guts, no glory.

  She leaped over a mound of dirt and made a grab for the llama’s halter. Too late—the llama jerked away and jumped over the fence. Maggie watched in shock for a moment, then took a step forward.

  She suddenly felt herself falling, through thin air. She screamed as the flashlight flew from her hands, and she landed face-first in a pile of wet, gritty dirt.

  She lay facedown for a moment, in total shock, then managed to turn her head to the side and moan. She felt dirt in her mouth and in her eyes. She ached all over and could barely lift herself up on her arms.

  A light flashed down on her. “Maggie! Are you all right?”

  She slowly turned and saw Dana, a few feet above her. Dana crouched down and stared at her, looking shocked and alarmed. “Are you all right? Did you break anything?”

  “I don’t think so,” Maggie mumbled, brushing more dirt from her mouth.

  “At least you didn’t hit your head. . . . At least you’re conscious.”

  “Just barely.” Maggie groaned. She sighed and rolled over in the dirt so she could at least sit up.

  “You poor thing. Let me help you.” Dana extended her hand, but it didn’t reach quite far enough. “Wait, I’ll use a shovel . . .” She ran over to the shovels and pointed the handle down at Maggie. “Just grab on and I’ll pull you up.”

  “All right. Just give me a minute to get my bearings.”

  Maggie could see now that the ditch she’d fallen into wasn’t all that deep. Only about four feet or slightly more. Just deep enough to rattle every bone in her body.

  She grabbed the end of the shovel, and Dana pulled while Maggie pushed herself to her feet. Dana leaned over and helped her climb up and out.

  Maggie slowly came to her feet. She tried to brush the dirt off herself, but it was no use. She took a tissue from her pocket and got some grit out of her mouth before she tried to speak again.

  Dana reached down and picked up the flashlights, then handed one back to Maggie. “Guess you didn’t see that hole.”

  “Obviously not. I was so focused on my quarry. Llama Most Wanted. That must be why the fence is here. So no one has an accident.” She sighed and shook her head. “Did you see that sucker take off on me? She jumped right over the fencing. I thought llamas were a cousin of the camel. I didn’t know they were part kangaroo.”

  They had left the fenced area and walked down the row of apple trees again. Dana put a comforting arm around Maggie’s shoulder.

  “Ellie says they can jump very high but are trained not to. I guess the llama felt cornered—not that I’m blaming you, of course,” she quickly added.

  “Thanks. I tried my best. Just not cut out to be a llama wrangler.”

  “Me, either,” Dana agreed. “This won’t be my retirement dream when Jack and I are ready, I’ll tell you that much,” she confided.

  Maggie just nodded. Unfortunately, it wasn’t turning out to be Ellie and Ben’s, either. More like their worst nightmare.

  Dana flashed her light around the apple trees, searching for the missing llama. They soon spotted her, staring back from behind one of the trees.

  “Give me the tether, I’ll get her,” Dana volunteered.

  “I think this is a two-woman job. You circle around that way. I’ll come in the opposite direction. We’ll meet in the middle and nab her.”

  “Good plan,” Dana whispered back.

  With slow, steady moves, they soon had the leaping llama securely tethered and headed for the pasture. Maggie began to feel all the aches and bruises from her fall.

  But she didn’t want to complain. This night had been quite an adventure. She hoped it would soon be over, though, so she could go home, take a nice hot shower, and put antibiotic cream on her scratches and ice bags on the rest of her body.

  Ellie was in the pasture and quickly opened the gate for them. She led the last llama to the flock and unhooked the leather lead from the halter. “Bad girl, Lola. You nearly got away from us.”

  Lola tossed her head back and hissed at Ellie—but didn’t spit, Maggie noticed. She had been the only one to get that special treatment.

  “I’m just going to count them again. I’m so . . . rattled by all this,” Ellie said, flashing her light around the pasture.

  The llamas stared back, most clustered together in small groups that dotted the field. The three-sided shed in the back of the pasture also held a few llamas, and Ellie counted those, as well.

  She walked toward the gate to meet Dana and Maggie. “They’re all here. I counted twice. They all seemed fine, too. No injuries or anything.”

  “Could the gate have been loose and blown open somehow?” Dana asked. “Maybe this wasn’t another case of trespassing and criminal mischief.”

  Ellie thought a moment. “No, that’s not possible. We had a buzzer installed that makes a sound when the gate is opened and closed securely. The sensor is part of the security system. If the gate had been left ajar, the alarm wouldn’t have been set, so it wouldn’t have gone off before,” she concluded. “No, the gate was closed. Someone was out here and opened it.”

  Maggie had had a brief moment of thinking this was just a false alarm. Apparently not.

  “Is anything else disturbed?” Dana asked. “Anything in the barn?”

  “I didn’t really check. I just ran in to get the flashlights and the leads. It is odd that the door was open, though.” She turned toward the barn and started walking in that direction. “I could have sworn that when Dot left, it was closed . . .”

  They followed Ellie to the barn, the three beams of light bouncing around in the dirt yard. The big red building loomed up in the darkness. A bird flew out of the hayloft, the flapping sound making Maggie jump back. But she caught herself before making a startled sound.

  Ellie stepped forward and pulled the barn door closed. Maggie and Dana held out their lights for her. Then just stared.

  A message had been painted on the white doors in huge red letters. The words oozed down the wooden planks, like dripping blood.

  MURDERERS! YOU STAY, YOU PAY!

  Ellie backed away, her hand over her mouth. “Dear Lord . . . I was afraid of this. I can’t take it anymore. I really can’t.”

  She’d been very calm and levelheaded so far, Maggie thought, but now burst out crying. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed freely.

  “Where is Ben? Where is he when I need him? He should be here . . . helping me with all this . . .”

  Dana sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s only words, Ellie. Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let them win. The person who did this was a total coward.”

  “She’s right. They’re just trying to unnerve you,” Maggie agreed. “At least the llamas are all safe and sound. It could have been much worse,” she added.

  Finally Ellie stopped crying and lifted her head. “Yes, this is hardly the worst of it. Though it is wearing
on me.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do. . . . Should I call the police again?”

  Ellie turned and looked at Dana. “Yes, of course you should. This could be connected to Ridley’s murder.”

  Maggie knew that meant she and Dana would have to stay here and be questioned by the police, too. But it was unavoidable.

  Ellie’s lips drew together in a tight line. “What about Ben? What will I say? They’ll definitely ask me why he’s not here.”

  Whoops. That was a problem. Maggie had forgotten all about that sticky wicket.

  Dana rested her hands on Ellie’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You just have to tell the truth, Ellie. You and Ben had a fight, and he left the house. That was his own decision. Besides, the police can ask someone to stay in town, but it’s just a request. They have no right to restrict his movements. He hasn’t obstructed or hindered the investigation by driving around for a few hours. But they could accuse you of that if you don’t report this right away.”

  Ellie listened to Dana’s advice and seemed to be considering it. Maggie could sense her weighing the safety of her husband against what she knew was the right decision here, to call the police and report this latest incident.

  Ellie’s phone sounded. She pulled it out of her pocket. “It’s Ben. He finally answered my text . . .” She fumbled a moment, then read the note on the phone screen. “He says he’s sorry he ran off and wants to talk. ‘I know you’re mad at me. Can I come home? Can we talk this out?’ ” she read aloud.

  Ellie looked up at her friends. “I’m going to call him. He needs to know someone has gotten onto our property again. Then I’ll call the police,” she promised.

  Dana nodded, then looked over at Maggie. Maggie could guess what Dana was wondering. Would Ben try to talk Ellie out of calling the police? Would Ellie be persuaded?

  There was a chance of that happening. Ellie didn’t seem to have much defense against her husband’s powers of persuasion, despite his lies to her and her disappointment in him.

  This was her life, her call. Maggie was sure Ellie knew what her friends thought she should do.