Murder Drama With Your Llama (Friendship Harbor Mysteries Book 1)

by Erin McCarthy

  Nine

  Passed out would have been the best-case scenario, but as I watched the ambulance race away, lights flashing, I didn’t get the feeling that was the situation. I’d overheard the EMTs using terms like massive myocardial infarction. Unresponsive. Flat line. All phrases for not good.

  “Well, tonight didn’t end nearly as amusing as it started out,” Oliver said, clearly shaken.

  I looked around. All the attendees, even the die-hard trivia players were standing on the sidewalk outside the pub. Everyone looked stressed. I spotted Hannah. I was most worried for her. The poor kid just witnessed her grandmother suffer a massive heart attack. Thankfully, she was standing with a man and a woman that I assumed were her parents. The woman hugged her close to her side, while the man held the woman’s hand. They were all pale and seemed in shock.

  Justin talked with two of the police officers that arrived on the scene with the ambulance. He nodded at something one of them said, then headed over to speak to Hannah’s family.

  “What should we do?” Oliver said, looking around at the crowd that now broke off into small clusters, talking among themselves.

  “I guess we just go back in,” I said, although I didn’t know if that was the right answer. It seemed unlikely that people would want to continue Cliff’s memorial with all the drama and this horrible turn of events. But I still wanted to help my workers clean up, and frankly I was too rattled to remain still. Helping them seemed like the best way to distract myself.

  When we walked back into the pub, Brandy and Janelle were already cleaning off the tables. They looked up as we entered.

  “It didn’t look like that went too well out there,” Brandy said, a tray of plates and glasses balanced on one hand.

  I shook my head. “No. It sounded like a very serious heart attack. I’m not sure June survived.”

  Brandy nodded as if that was the answer she expected, then headed to the kitchen.

  I moved to help Janelle load another tray. Even Oliver started gathering up the clutter. To my surprise, some of the patrons filed back in, taking seats at the bar. Although I couldn’t really blame them. I felt like I needed a drink after what just happened.

  But I focused on clearing the tables, even as my mind whirled. June was dead. Just like that. And I now knew for certain Millie had been involved with Cliff. Or at least infatuated with him. Did she kill him? Given how upset she was, it didn’t seem likely. I had to admit, I felt like tonight had created more questions than answers.

  I tossed some dirty napkins onto a tray, when I had the sensation of someone standing behind me. I turned to see Justin.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his kind eyes dark with concern.

  I felt a little silly having him be so worried about me. After all, I just met June. “I’m okay. How is Hannah?” She was the one I was most worried about.

  “She’s pretty upset.”

  “It had to be terrifying.”

  He nodded.

  I hesitated, then asked the question I already knew. “June didn’t make it, did she?”

  He shook his head, not needing to say anything more.

  I closed my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the last week. It had been one hell of a week, that’s for sure.

  Justin cupped a large hand around my elbow. “Let’s sit down for a moment. You look like you could use a break. And maybe a drink.”

  Again, I felt uncomfortable. I barely knew Cliff. And frankly what I’d seen had been borderline creepy. I just met June. But I did feel pretty wrecked.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, giving him an appreciative smile. “I think I could use a glass of wine and a little calm.”

  Oliver watched us as we headed to two empty barstools, but he continued to help Brandy and Janelle. I guess I’d have to pay him for his help with more lobster rolls and a side of fried clams. Then again, Oliver had his surprising moments of kindness.

  “You must be wondering where on earth you moved,” Justin said with a lopsided smile as he took a seat next to me.

  “It has been pretty bananas,” I admitted.

  “It’s been pretty wild for us too,” he said with a shake of his head. “Would you believe last month the craziest thing that happened was a streaker at the women’s softball game?”

  “A streaker?” I laughed. “I thought that went out of style in the seventies.”

  “We are a little behind the times here.”

  I laughed, then asked, “It wasn’t Cliff, was it?”

  He chuckled. “Surprisingly, no.”

  “That was rude of me, wasn’t it. I guess I shouldn’t say something like that at his celebration of life.”

  Justin cast a look around. “I think that’s pretty well over.”

  I nodded, seeing that most everyone had left. Brandy came out from the back of the kitchen and joined us. “What a night. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a pinot noir.”

  “An Island Dog Ale would be great.”

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” Oliver said, taking a seat on the other side of me.

  “So,” I said, “it really does seem like Cliff managed to con a lot of women in this town.” Even though I was freaked out about everything that happened tonight, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to find out more about Cliff.

  Brandy set drinks in front of us. “I heard he conned several women out of a lot of money. Personally, I always liked him. Sure, he could be a bit of a lech, but I found him pretty harmless. And he always tipped well.”

  “And I don’t really know,” Justin said. “Like Brandy, he always seemed like a nice enough guy to me. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a dog. I will say that I have heard plenty of rumors.”

  “Like?”

  Justin shrugged as if he wasn’t really comfortable talking out of turn. He really was a nice guy. I liked that. A lot.

  “Well, I heard that he cheated on Frances with a wealthy widow who owns a huge mansion in Bar Harbor,” Brandy said, clearly not having the same hang-up about sharing juicy gossip. “I heard this woman was like in her late seventies. And this would have been back when he was in his forties.”

  Janelle joined in, leaning on the bar beside Brandy. “And there were also some rumors he dated a woman who used to summer up here from Massachusetts. He conned her out of thousands and thousands of dollars.”

  “And clearly he was involved with Millie,” Brandy added, her expression saying she never saw that one coming. “She inherited a ton of money from her father. Although she was clearly keeping that on the down low.”

  “Probably because she’s so under her mother’s thumb,” Janelle said. “Old Eleanor probably would have locked her in the house if she had known.”

  Dean came over and joined the conversation. “When I was a kid Cliff dated my aunt.”

  “Wow, Cliff was one busy man. I hope he put some of that money into Viagra stock,” Oliver said. “Soph, the old guy had more action in a week than you have in a year.”

  I choked on my pinot noir. “Oliver!” I could feel my cheeks heating up. “That’s not really funny.”

  I mean, he wasn’t wrong. But it wasn’t funny. Especially not in front of both Dean and Justin. I wasn’t thrilled about Brandy and Janelle hearing my love life was pitiful, either.

  “It’s not true,” I added. “I date,” I said defensively. “I absolutely date.”

  “It was a joke,” Oliver said. “Chill.”

  Except that there was enough truth to it that I’d overreacted and now everyone knew it was true.

  “Good,” Justin said. “Then I can invite you to dinner and hope you’ll say yes.” He gave me a smile.

  Oliver made a sound of approval. “Slick, Sheriff. I like your style.” He turned to me. “Say yes to the nice man, Sophie. He has good teeth.”

  “He does have good teeth,” Janelle said.

  Now I was officially embarrassed. But I was intrigued by the sheriff. I wouldn’t object to getting to know him better. “Is
that an actual invitation?” I asked him. “Or a theoretical?”

  “It’s an actual invitation. Are you free Saturday?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

  “Fantastic. We can go to Bar Harbor.”

  “Oooh,” Brandy said. “Fancy. I love it.”

  Dean abruptly moved away from the bar and went into the kitchen without a word to anyone. I couldn’t figure that guy out for love or money.

  “Well, I should be heading out,” I said. “I need to check on my llama.”

  “I need to get a llama so I can use that line,” Janelle said. The server was in her twenties, with a cute pixie haircut. “I could get out of literally everything I don’t want to do. No one can argue with needing to tend to a farm animal.”

  Dean reappeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “You can’t get out of cleanup. Can you stop gossiping and clear the food?”

  She made a face.

  That was definitely our cue to leave Steamy’s.

  I stood up. Oliver did the same.

  We said our goodbyes and got out of there, heading through the back room to the yard.

  Oliver started to say something but I made a shushing gesture. I had a feeling that the walls of the Victorian were thin and the people in the pub could possibly hear what we were saying.

  When we got outside, I used an exaggerated whisper that had him rolling his eyes. “Don’t you think it’s strange that so many people would show up to Cliff’s funeral and celebration of life when they didn’t even like him?”

  “No. People do that all the time. Face it, Soph, you’re searching for a murder when maybe there isn’t one. Just a small town with a whole lot of gossip.” He didn’t even bother to whisper.

  “I know this was murder. Jack couldn’t do it. You agreed yourself the timing was off.”

  “But what if Cliff just took a fall?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. I didn’t want to argue with Oliver about it. “Poor Hannah. No one should witness something like that at her age.”

  “I’m not sure I needed to witness any of that at my age. And L.A. has the rep for drama queens.” He shook his head.

  I opened the gate to the yard by the shed and let Jack out of his pen. He came bounding into the yard and straight up to Oliver, who indulged him by rubbing his head.

  “He’s going to miss you,” I said, amused. “I’m going to miss you too.” Oliver was due to leave on Monday.

  “Nah.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “You’ll be busy with Sheriff Sexy and Surly McSteamy. But I’ll definitely miss you. We should have chairs out here, by the way. And wine. I feel like Jack could use some hangout time.”

  “That sounds fun. You get the chairs and a couple of those jar candles that my grandmother has all over the house. I’ll go get some wine from the pub.”

  “Excellent plan.” Oliver saluted me and left the yard.

  I went into the shed and got some hay out for Jack and put it in the pen for him. He started munching merrily away while I went for the wine. Going in the back door, I heard low voices in the kitchen, but assumed it was Dave and Janelle.

  There were still at least a dozen people in the pub, which impressed me. Trivia night was no joke. Brandy waved to me and I asked her for a bottle of pinot noir to go. She bit her lip like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to do that, but then she said, “Well, you are the owner of this place, so what am I worried about?” She gave me a grin.

  “Thanks. You can ring it up and I’ll pay for it if that’s easier.” I didn’t want to complicate the inventory.

  She looked relieved. “Okay, thanks. That’s probably best for right now.” But then she added, “The nasty business with June broke up the party a bit and there are tons of leftovers in the kitchen. Why don’t you make up a couple of plates for you and Oliver? We’re just going to pitch it.”

  “Thanks, Brandy. Oliver has a crush on the lobster rolls.”

  “I noticed. I also noticed that he eats constantly and weighs about eighty pounds.” She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t look at carbs without gaining five pounds.”

  “Same. Damn men and their metabolisms.” I went into the kitchen but then stopped short when I realized it wasn’t Dave and Janelle in the back at all. It was Frances and Mac.

  What on earth?

  I crouched down so they wouldn’t see me and listened to their conversation. Frances sounded highly agitated.

  “You heard what the sheriff told Karen! Cliff could not have been killed by that stupid llama.”

  Hey, now. I was offended on Jack’s behalf.

  “The autopsy showed it was blunt force trauma, all right, but with something much smaller and more forceful. A llama only has two toes and soft pads, you know that. He said it was more consistent with something like a hammer.”

  “Calm down,” Mac said in a soothing voice. “What’s done is done.”

  “It’s very upsetting to have the sheriff poking around in Cliff’s business and Karen is on some insane quest for justice. What are we going to do?”

  “Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to do but ride it out. It will all blow over.”

  That sounded one hundred percent to me like Frances and Mac were very concerned about getting busted for Cliff’s murder. I wanted to wait it out and see what else was said but my thighs were screaming and without warning I lost my balance and knocked into a steel rack holding mixing bowls.

  The rattle was very loud and by the time I scrambled to my feet to explain that I’d dropped an earring, Frances and Mac were gone, obviously bolting out the back door. It was right at that moment that Dean opened the kitchen door and smacked me in the backside with it.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Brandy told me you wanted a bottle of wine. I told her to charge you at cost.”

  “Thanks,” I said, a little breathless. I tried to discreetly rub my screaming thigh muscles. “She said to take some leftovers.”

  He nodded. “Good night, Sophie.”

  “Good night.”

  I gathered the food and the wine and hotfooted it back to the yard. Oliver had managed to haul out two kitchen chairs and a delicate round Victorian side table that I thought had been in the bathroom. It had a candle on it burning brightly in the growing darkness. “I need to string up fairy lights,” I mused. “Between the shed and the guesthouse.”

  “That would be divine.” He took the wine from me. “Should we bother to change out of our funeral finest or shall we be pretentious?”

  “I don’t need to change.” I sat down and watched Jack, who was loping along the fence perimeter, sniffing here, and sniffing there. “Because I’ve ruled Karen out as the killer and have two new suspects.”

  “Can I at least pour the wine before you dive into another round of theories?”

  That was wise. I held out my glass, and fortunately Brandy had opened the bottle for us when she rang me up. Oliver tugged out the cork with a satisfying little pop, then filled my wine glass, which he’d also snagged from my grandmother’s house, stopping at nearly the brim of the large goblet.

  “Whoa, I want to be able to get the intel out to you,” I said, eyeing the huge amount of vino. “You know I start getting giggly after two glasses.”

  “If this whacked-out night doesn’t call for a giant glass of wine, then I don’t know what would.”

  He had a good point. I took a sip and waited for him to fill his own. He took a long sip, then shifted in his chair, settling in for my story. “Okay, hit me.”

  I explained what I’d overheard.

  “Wow, that does all sound really shady. Do you think Frances and Mac killed him together?”

  I shrugged. “They both have a lot of reasons to want Cliff dead.”

  “But why now.”

  “That is a good question. Maybe something was about to happen that would mess up their plans. Like Cliff was going to get married. What if Frances was still in Cliff’s will? She said they were still actually married. If he
finally went through with the divorce and married someone else, that would make his new wife the beneficiary.”

  “Mmm,” Oliver said, giving me an impressed look. “That definitely makes sense.”

  We both sipped our wine. Jack lifted his head from eating grass, twitching his ears as if he heard something.

  I found myself looking around at the darkness just beyond our candlelit circle. I shivered. The air was cool, but I didn’t think that was it. What if someone was listening to us just like I’d been listening to others? The idea was creepy.

  “You know maybe we should finish our wine inside,” Oliver said suddenly, clearly thinking the same thing I was.

  “I agree.” I rose gathering our glasses and the wine. Oliver moved to get Jack, who thankfully followed him back to his stall with little prompting. Almost as if he wanted to be inside too.

  I looked around again as I waited for Oliver to return. Another chill crept over me, even though I could hear a few voices and music coming from inside the bar. I knew I was probably overreacting, and it wasn’t like I was alone, but I watched the shed, willing Oliver to hurry up.

  Fortunately, he returned quickly.

  “Let’s get the table and chairs in the morning,” Oliver suggested as he picked up the plate of leftovers. Trust Oliver not to abandon food.

  “Good idea.” We hurried back to the house, an unexpected blast of sound from Jack sending me jumping in the air.

  “Geez,” I breathed. The second we got inside I slammed the door and locked it behind us. “I think I’m getting paranoid.”

  “I think we’re from Los Angeles. We’re smart. Or at least, I am. You can be a little gullible.”

  I made a face at him. It’s not like I could argue with him. “I resemble that.”

  Ten

  “Wake up, lazy butt.”

  I groaned, shoving my tangled hair out of my face as I rolled over. Oliver stood in my bedroom doorway, already dressed and looking far too cheerful. How was this fair? We’d finished our bottle of wine in the kitchen and Oliver had opened a second bottle we’d found in the back of the fridge. I had three glasses to his six and yet I felt like I’d been the one kicked by a llama.