But there was that mystery again. This was the third person she had met today that seemed affected by John Bidet, a man who had died in a hot air balloon accident.
“So if people get to stay here for free, how do they keep the lights on?” she asked.
“Well, you’re paying to stay here aren’t ya?”
She nodded.
“Not everyone has my skills.” He smiled again, deepening the lines around his eyes and cheeks, but it made him look a bit younger. He was not a bad looking man when he smiled, she had to admit. “You know, if you want to figure this stuff out, you might want to chat with the ranch hand before he leaves.” Jameson nodded in the direction of the pens. “He’ll probably not be here all day. He usually comes in for the day and heads back to his wife for the evenings, unless there’s a cria to be born.”
“Thank you, I will talk to him,” she said.
He turned to walk away, but stopped in his tracks. “Are you going to put those keys back?”
“I think I’ll hold onto them for a bit longer. These keys are involved in that missing alpaca and I want to know why.”
“Suit yourself. If I need them, I’ll ask Ronald which rig is yours.”
June watched him walk away. Once he was far enough, she hurried back to Melanie’s truck. She felt short standing next to the thing, but she could see into the bed. There wasn’t anything to indicate an alpaca had been in there. Then she peered through the windows, shielding the sun with her hand so she could see inside. A few strands of black fur lay on the back seat. She would have to ask what color Penelope was.
Chapter Eleven
The day had become much warmer now, and the bright spring sun felt good on June’s skin as she walked to the pens to talk to the ranch hand. There were two men inside the female alpaca pen. One of them looked like the quintessential cowboy straight out of a 1950’s movie; jeans, a button-down shirt, dark leather boots, and a big black hat. He even had a handlebar mustache.
The other one was skinny, with a pimply face and a big nose. He had to be either barely into his twenties or in his late teens. He noticed her gaze, then glanced away. He looked like he might flee if she tried to talk to him. Having raised two boys of her own, she understood. Young men usually didn’t want to talk to women her age.
June approached the older one, stepping up to the wooden fence and raising her voice to shout at them from across the pen. “I’m guessing you are the ranch hand? Kurt?”
“That’s me,” he said.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the missing alpaca.”
The cowboy’s eyes narrowed just a bit as he turned to look at her. “As long as you stay out of my way. I got work to do.”
June let herself into the pen, making sure the gate was latched solidly behind her. She traipsed through the brown grass, which was much easier to walk in now that the frost had melted.
He walked up to the dark brown alpaca, the one who had been sniffing June earlier, and placed a calloused but gentle hand on her long neck. He lifted one of her front legs, pulled snippers from his back pocket, and trimmed the nails at the end of her foot.
June watched with interest. She hadn’t realized the animals had nails. “What’s the point of having nails if they have hooves?”
The man grinned and his brown eyes lit. “They’re not hooves, ma’am. They have soft pads on their feet, like a cat or dog, but their toenails are more like ours than a cat’s. Have to be trimmed from time to time. Hold still, Agatha.” He held the foot up a bit longer so June could see. There were two black pads, like the hooves of a goat, with toenails growing over the top.
She leaned forward to get a better glance. “They are such unusual animals. How often do you have to do this?”
“’Bout every couple of months, depending.” He let go of the alpaca’s foot and gave her a pat on the neck. “Good girl.”
June cleared her throat. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m June.”
He nodded, his hat dipping over his keen brown eyes.
“Are you here very often?”
“Oh, every couple of days or so. I work here and a couple other farms. He pointed with the clippers. That’s Travis. He does most of the feeding and watering. Might be a good ranch hand himself once he picks up a few things.”
“I’m sure Ronald talked to you about the missing alpaca?”
Kurt glanced in the direction of the owner’s trailer at the front of the campsite, a small hint of irritation on his face. “As much as Blanche might not like it, it’s not my business to find ones that go missing. I get paid to take care of them, not find them when they’re lost.”
June’s heart fell once again. It seemed no one knew anything about the missing alpaca, and no one was going to go out looking for it, either. She couldn’t even picture the pregnant one in her mind since she’d barely given any of the alpaca a passing glance since she’d arrived. “Can you tell me what color Penelope is?”
Kurt pointed to another alpaca. “Light tan just like that one. Almost looks exactly like her.”
June would have called that color cream, but at least she knew that the hair on the back seat of Melanie’s truck did not belong to the missing alpaca. “So what do you think happened?”
Kurt finished with the nails of the current alpaca and moved on to the next one. “Someone took her,” he said, with an odd certainty. “If Blanche wants her alpaca back, she should call the police.” He pointed with his clippers at the other pen. “Prince Albert over there is the only one who has ever gotten out. And his goal is to get in with the girls. Females stay close together. They can’t really protect themselves all alone, so it’s safer to be here.” He pointed the clippers at her. “Did Blanche hire you to investigate or something?”
“Ah, no. Not exactly,” said June, trying not to feel flustered. “I was just curious is all.”
He shrugged and picked up the foot of the spotted alpaca.
An idea came to her. “What if the male got out and left the girls’ gate open? I mean, is it completely impossible that she would have wandered off by herself?”
Kurt chuckled. “Let me ask you this. Were the gates open this morning?”
“Not to my knowledge,” said June.
“It wouldn’t make sense for him to get out, come to the girls’ pen, open it, then put himself back in his own pen and latch the gate behind him, does it?”
“You have a point.” June’s lips quirked. “I suppose it was a silly question.”
Kurt moved on to the next alpaca, the light tan one that he had pointed out earlier, and began the same process. He put his hand on her neck but the alpaca danced away. “Don’t be like that,” he said in a soothing voice.
The alpaca snorted but finally agreed to stand still.
Kurt moved with the quick efficiency of someone who has done a task a thousand times, cutting straight across each toenail and dropping the foot to the ground.
“You have them pretty well trained, don’t you?”
Kurt chuckled. “Oh, most of them were trained when I got here. Besides, they can have foot problems if they don’t get their toenails trimmed. Their fleece is the same way. They can overheat in the summer if they don’t get sheared. They’re not really designed to survive on their own. Been that way for thousands of years before they were brought over from Peru, which is why an animal like Penelope wouldn’t have risked her baby by wandering off.”
“Huh,” said June. She hadn’t known the first thing about these animals until today. “Is there anyone who you think might have taken the alpaca?”
He gave her a flat look. “Whoever took her is a fool. Risking a perfectly healthy female and the baby like that is just plain stupid. You’d have to find a buyer who doesn’t mind not having the pedigree. You wouldn’t want to accidentally breed a brother and a sister. Owners keep track of that kind of thing, and the pedigree is sold with her. Also, the stress of having a pregnant mother taken away like that might cause complica
tions for both mom and baby. It would have been smarter to take two of the other girls rather than one pregnant one.”
June shifted her weight off her bad hip. She had done more walking and standing around today than she was accustomed to. “Let’s just say you found someone who would be willing to buy a pregnant alpaca with no pedigree. Wouldn’t she sell for more?”
He grimaced. “Any half-decent farmer wouldn’t, but there might be someone stupid enough. She’s ten months pregnant, due any day now, though the pregnancy could last another month. If I were going to steal an alpaca, I’d wait for the baby to be born. You’d probably make more that way.”
Eleven months, thought June in horror. Nine had been plenty long enough. She paused before asking the next question. “Are they expensive?”
He nodded. “For a farm animal, yes.”
“Even though they have to be taken care of all the time?”
“Here,” he said, placing his hand on the back of a spotty alpaca. “Touch her fleece.”
June frowned at him, but reached out and touched her fur. It was surprisingly soft, like the fuzzy socks she tended to prefer in the winter. “I bet everyone wants to get their hands on some of this.”
He nodded. “And people who are allergic to wool aren’t allergic to alpaca fleece. They’re useless for pretty much anything else other than petting zoos. They’re not pack animals and their only defense is to spit at you.” Kurt let go of the animal, who trotted off.
The alpacas made a surprisingly small amount of noise as they milled about. A ruddy brown one came forward and sniffed at her, but didn’t give her the thorough investigation the dark brown one had. The more time she spent around them, the cuter she thought they were.
Out of the corner of her eye, June saw the younger of the ranch hands letting himself into the male’s pen with an armful of hay. “Is he your assistant?”
“Only when I’m here. He lives in the campground full-time. Someone’s got to make sure they have water and food every day, and their litter box has to be cleaned. He’s done a pretty good job of it, but I get the feeling he’d rather be doing something else. If he’s smart, he’ll stay put. It’s a good job, pays well, and he has a free place to stay. He’s a good kid, willing to learn and not too squeamish around the animals. I was actually looking forward to seeing how he does around a delivery. If he could handle that, he’d make a good hand for sure.”
“It’s good of you to train him,” June said.
Kurt shook his head. “I’d train a couple at a time if I could. Not enough kids taking an interest these days. Gotta train the ones we can get.” He paused and gave her a serious look, finally meeting her eyes. “I hope you find Penelope. She will make a good mother, and everything will go better for her once she’s home. She’s going to be nervous in new surroundings and facing giving birth to her firstborn without the support of the herd. I don’t envy her. She must be real scared right now.”
June pursed her lips. “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for answering all my questions.” She turned and walked away. As she thought about it, though, she had no idea how to figure out who took the alpaca. From what Kurt said, it wouldn’t be someone with a whole lot of experience, probably someone hoping to make a quick buck. Anyone at the campground could have taken Melanie’s keys, and most everyone had vehicles big enough to fit an alpaca into. June had no idea where to start looking next, but everyone seemed to be hoping she found Penelope. That, or they were busy throwing around accusations.
Chapter Twelve
June had to shade her eyes from the afternoon sun with one hand, while using her cane in the other. Her hip was starting to protest despite the physical therapy exercises she’d done earlier. She cringed as she realized that she’d been on her feet almost the entire day, something her doctor and the therapists back in Illinois had warned her to avoid. She glanced around, noticing a bench just outside the pen. Maybe it would be a good idea to sit and rest for a while, even though the motorhome was not that far.
Danielle stood just outside of the pen and not too far from the bench June was aiming for. She was not terribly tall and she carried most of her weight in her hips. Prince Albert, the male alpaca, leaned over the fence toward her, craning his neck to be petted. It was a very cat-like thing to do.
Danielle saw her coming and waved her over. “Did you decide to look into Penelope’s disappearance?”
June seated herself on the wooden bench in front of the pen, and let the afternoon sun warm her back. “I’ve asked around a bit, but I haven’t found much.” She paused. “Have you heard that some people around here think my daughter did it?”
Danielle flushed. “I did hear that. A lot of the campers are suspecting them.”
“Do you have any idea why? I mean, if they watch the channel, they’ll know that Rebecca and Nathan travel full-time.”
Danielle sighed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to you or your family, but everyone’s saying that with the videos they make, they’re the ones with the most to gain.” She looked her right in the eye. “I don’t believe a word of it, if that helps. What are they going to do with an alpaca on the road? Keep it in their fifth-wheel?”
June smiled. “Thank you.” A thought occurred to her. “The campers wouldn’t do anything, would they? I mean, they can’t arrest us without the police getting involved.”
Danielle sighed. “Maybe I should have stayed longer. I don’t know what they’re planning.” She glanced around. “Look, don’t tell anyone I told you any of that.”
June frowned. This was starting to seem worse than she thought. She really did need to find that alpaca. “Of course I won’t tell anyone, but I’ve never really done this sort of thing before. I think I might have already hit a dead-end.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, Melanie isn’t here, so there’s not much of a chance that she did it. She’s apparently off visiting her daughter and latest grandchild. I met a guy named Jameson, who seemed rather elusive. He told me that he had the keys last—”
“Jameson wouldn’t have done it! He’s not that sort of person.” Danielle cut her off. Her eyes were wide and she practically shouted.
She paused. “Sorry.”
June cocked her head, curious why talking about the man would have elicited such a reaction. “Why do you say that? He seemed a little…odd to me.”
Danielle folded her arms. “I suppose that many of us who stay here are a little odd, otherwise we’d be living normal lives in normal homes. But Jameson is a good person. He’s always willing to help anyone who needs it. Hardly anyone around here has to pay for a mechanic because of him. He might look a little intimidating, but if anyone offers to pay him for fixing their car, he declines, says he has all the money he wants.” She paused, looking down. “He’s just a very private person, is all. Keeps to himself for the most part, and is constantly tinkering with some mechanical doo-dad, that or playing his harmonica. I hear him late at night sometimes.”
“Hmmm,” said June, tapping her lips with one finger. “That does sort of put us back to square one. If Jameson wasn’t lying about Melanie being gone, and he didn’t do it himself, then maybe someone was trying to frame her. Either that, or they stole her keys and dropped them on accident, but that seems too much of a coincidence. Does everyone in camp know that she keeps her keys under the pot?”
Danielle nodded her head vigorously. Her curly black and gray hair barely moved with the gesture. “We’re kind of a community here. Most of us have either lived here or in one of the other camps for decades. We all see so much of each other, I really don’t see how any of the full-timers could possibly be one of the ones that took Penelope. This is our home. If one of us took the alpaca, where would we put her? None of us own any land.”
“What if someone rented a stall at a fairground or something like that? It’s not like there are no other options for a determined individual.”
“I still don’t think it was
one of the full-timers. I just can’t see them doing it. I wish I could be more help.”
The alpaca nudged Danielle and she turned to pat his fuzzy neck. “Was I ignoring you? I’m sorry. This one is named Prince Albert. He’s my favorite. Have you met him?”
June nodded with a small smile. “He’s been eyeing me all day. I’ve definitely heard plenty about him.”
Prince Albert turned his head toward June and sniffed in her direction.
This was June’s least favorite thing about alpacas, she decided.
Danielle patted him. “He’s just curious.”
June rose and stepped away from the fence. “I think I’ve been sniffed enough for one day. Besides, I should rest my hip.” She cocked her head to one side. “Alpacas do grow on you though. I’d never even heard of them before my daughter told me about this camp, but I think I’m beginning to understand their appeal.”
Danielle patted the white fuzzy neck of their silent conversation partner. “Yes, we all love the alpacas, don’t we Prince Albert?” she grinned. “He’s sort of the camp mascot. Everyone loves him. He’s practically family. Aren’t you? Always trying to get into the girls’ pen, aren’t you, you little scamp?”
He made a humming noise in response, like he was proud of how much trouble he made for everyone.
June watched him prance in place for a moment. “If he’s the troublemaker, the one who gets out of his pen, why does that make him the mascot?”
“I don’t know. You would think it would be one of the more well-behaved females, but you get to know him better because he’s always causing trouble and someone has to convince him to stay in his own pen, you know?”
“I think we love pets for the same reason. If they aren’t ever in our way, we might ignore them.” June paused for a moment, watching the way Prince Albert nudged Danielle when she stopped petting him. Not entirely unlike a cat.
June had meant to head back to her motorhome, but she was enjoying the conversation and the company. There was something so genuine about Danielle that made her comfortable to be around, and after all the days of traveling with energetic young people, it was just nice to chat with someone her own age. “Kurt said that alpacas were mostly useful because of their fleece. What happens to it when it gets sheared?”
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