Herd is the Word

by Jenna Lynn Badger

  June stood, feeling an ache in her hip. At least she didn’t have the sharp stabbing pain that she felt when she knew she had really injured herself.

  She tucked the keys back into her pocket and walked around Melanie’s big, blue truck. If someone was trying to frame her, would they come looking for the keys again? Or maybe the alpaca-napper didn’t know that Melanie was gone and had just hoped to throw anyone who was looking off their trail. If that was the case, they’d done an admirable job.

  On her way back to her motorhome, June noticed Jameson working on his motorcycle and paused.

  He grinned up at her from his seat on the ground. “Here to arrest me?”

  “You seem to have quite the reputation.”

  The lines around his eyes deepened and his brown eyes danced with merriment. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.”

  “Oh, it’s bad,” she teased. “You’re accused of fixing other people’s cars and not taking payment for your work.”

  He chuckled and patted his motorcycle. “I’ve always liked machines. They’re uncomplicated.”

  In June’s opinion, they were plenty complicated, but she was glad that there were people in the world who understood how they worked. “I wanted to ask you a favor, actually.”

  He raised a bushy white eyebrow.

  “What if someone was trying to frame Melanie? Since your site is near hers, I was hoping you could keep an eye on her spot to see if anyone comes snooping around.”

  “You mean like an attractive women in her fifties? I saw one snooping around not too long ago. She had a cane and wavy gray hair and a fondness for finding lost alpacas.”

  It took June a few seconds to realize he was talking about her. No one had called her attractive in so long that she didn’t know what to say to that. Of course, Harold used to tell her things like that all the time, but he had passed away seven years ago. Her face heated and she hoped it wasn’t too obvious. It was flattering and a bit unnerving. “So you saw me over there.”

  He smiled. “Supposed to keep an eye on the place.”

  She held out the keys to him. “I think that for the time being, you should hold on to these.”

  He stood and dusted off his backside with both hands, mixing grease with dirt. “Thanks. You might be right about someone wanting to frame her.” He took the keys and shoved them into his front pants pocket. “I’ll hold onto ’em for ya, and let you know if anyone comes snooping.”

  June thanked him. She wasn’t sure if his keeping watch would do any good, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. At least he had the keys now.

  Before heading back to her RV to cook dinner, she had one more place to stop, and one more person to talk to.

  June remembered the direction Blanche had gone that morning after their conversation and was almost certain that the massive trailer near the front of the campground was hers. It was bigger than a lot of the other sites. The RV itself was elaborate, with several slide outs and a giant picture bay window overlooking the campground. It had two doors, so she wasn’t sure which one to knock on. Then she noticed the doorbell was only on the door nearest her. She climbed the steps and pressed the button.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Blanche opened the door and June felt a pang of envy when she saw an island inside the comparatively massive kitchen.

  “January, right?” Blanche asked. She gave June a slightly irritated look, like she wanted the conversation to be over before it had even started.

  June forced a smile. She had never even heard of anyone named January. “Actually, it’s June. I came to tell you what I’ve found so far, but if now is not a good time…”

  Blanche turned her head and called back. “Dillon, I’ll be outside!” Sounds of video games wafted out from deeper in the trailer.

  Dillon must have been the young man with the squinty eyes that June had seen driving the truck before. June heard a muffled response that sounded so automatic, she wondered if he even realized he’d said anything.

  “Give me just a minute.” Blanche grabbed a wine bottle and two glasses from right next to the door before stepping outside.

  Does she always keep wine and glasses right next to her door? She eyed the bottle of wine and said, “I don’t think me visiting is any cause for celebration.”

  “I’m not asking you to celebrate. I’m asking you to share wine with me and tell me what you’ve found out so far.” She poured a glass of red for each of them and gestured to one of the camp chairs. “Dillon may as well be a statue for all the company he is when a new game comes out. Besides, he doesn’t like wine and I don’t like drinking alone if I can help it.”

  “Thank you,” said June. She wasn’t one to turn down a glass of wine. “I do love a good red.”

  Blanche handed her one of the stemless glasses and sat, pushing back her blonde curls. “So, did you learn anything that might help us find my missing alpaca?”

  “Unfortunately not. At least, I haven’t learned anything that points clearly to one person.” She caught Blanche up about the keys and the fact that the trough had been moved. “The thing is, I can’t see Fran moving that trough. It’s too heavy for a woman her size.”

  “Hmmm…” said Blanche. “Those two have never gotten along. What if she had help?”

  “I suppose that’s a possibility, but then there’s the problem that Melanie has been gone for over a week. Why try to frame someone who couldn’t possibly have done it?”

  Blanche took a sip before gazing out over the camp. “You see it on the news all the time. Just because someone is a criminal doesn’t mean they’re intelligent. People get caught because they’re stupid.”

  June thought about that. She supposed it was a possibility that whoever had taken the alpaca wasn’t very bright. Kurt had certainly seemed to doubt their intelligence. Maybe they just didn’t know that Melanie was gone. Despite what Fran had said, Danielle hadn’t seemed to know about her absence. “Is there anyone really close to Fran who might have helped?”

  Blanche waved a lazy hand, her red nail polish looked almost black in the evening light. “Most of them have assembled themselves into little groups. Sometimes it’s as bad as cliques in high school around here. I thought we left that behind decades ago but here we are. Half of my full-timers are older than sixty, but they act like they’re fifteen.”

  June took a sip of the wine. It was dark and almost spicy. She glanced at the bottle on the small table between them and made a mental note of the label. “This is very good.”

  Blanche lifted her glass. “It’s one of my favorites.” She glanced in the direction of the alpaca pens. “Someone ought to be able to find my poor girl.”

  Across the campground, June saw the younger of the two ranch hands walking toward Ronald’s trailer at the camp host spot. He knocked on the door and went inside. “Does Ronald know that young man?”

  “Oh yes,” said Blanche. “Ron’s Travis’ uncle. Set up the whole thing for me. I actually got a good deal on hiring him. He’s just learning to be a ranch hand and Kurt said he would teach him when he’s here. I don’t have to pay him too much and he learns to be useful. Everybody wins.”

  “So he stays with his uncle?” asked June, taking another sip. Ronald’s little travel trailer would probably be crowded with two people in there.

  Blanche gestured with her wine toward the pens. “No. He stays in the trailer parked behind the alpaca pens. We set it up so that if the ranch hand had to stay for any reason, he would have a place to sleep.” She frowned. “Apparently, the electricity back there has gone out again. I’m going to have to pay to have the electricians come out and fix the problem for the second time. Sometimes, I wonder if they just fix things half-way so that it breaks and they get paid twice. I tell you, this place just one big money pit.”

  “Is the campground really that expensive to maintain?”

  Blanche shifted in her chair. “I had no idea how many problems there would be or how expensive they were to fix. If it isn’t th
e electrical, then one of the washing machines isn’t working or there’s a leak in the bathroom. It’s just one thing after another.” She took another sip of her wine. “Oh, and sometimes the people who stay here damage things and that’s a nightmare. I have to warn them that I’m charging them for driving away with the water still attached. People who are new to RV’ing make those sort of mistakes all the time. It’s just the way it is, but I try to be a good owner.” She sighed dramatically. “I try to take care of this place, but it is so hard to stay on top of everything all the time.”

  “It does at least pay for itself, though doesn’t it?” asked June. It would be a pretty rotten inheritance if it was costing money just to keep it going.

  Blanche sighed. “It makes just enough to stay afloat. I ask you, how am I supposed to eat if I have to pay for fixing things all the time? The camp barely covers its own costs, especially with so many freeloaders around. The only profit I get is from the dumb animals.” She poured herself another glass.

  June took a swallow, relishing the way it coated her tongue. “You know, the alpacas were a clever idea. I bet the families who come here in the summertime love having the animals around.”

  Blanche nodded. “I suppose they do. I never realized how much some people would lose their minds over them. I mean, I like them and all, but I’m not about to spend hours with them the way Danielle does. I’ve been considering changing the name of the campground to something with Alpacas in it, but ‘Alpaca Campground’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it as ‘Castle Creek.’ Besides, I’m not sure I could change it if I wanted to at this point. I own it, but there are plenty of stipulations that went in to taking over this place.”

  She turned toward June, giving her a serious stare. “Are you planning on continuing your search?”

  June shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not sure that it will make much of a difference. I really only had the one clue to go on and that didn’t pan out.”

  “Tell you what, you find my alpaca and I’ll refund your campsite.”

  June felt a knot in her stomach form. Would Blanche feel the same way if she knew she was related to Nathan and Rebecca?

  Blanche held up her glass.

  Despite her worry, June clinked hers against it.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Prince Albert wandered alone, his heart aching for the missing Penelope. Never had the distance between him and his females felt so great. He would ensure that no one went missing tonight. He would keep watch and not sleep.

  The girls had already bedded down, but he couldn’t imagine resting. Not tonight. Not with Penelope missing. It felt like part of him was gone. The herd could not be the same and he couldn’t help the frustration that welled within him.

  The humans acted like nothing had happened. It was just a normal day for them. Except for one, The Pacifist, he didn’t think that any of them quite understood. It wasn’t just Penelope, but his cria. They hadn’t lost a member of the herd since … he shuddered. He would not think about that.

  He had spent the day watching and trying to get the human’s attention, trying to help them understand what he knew. He’d barely eaten all day, barely touched the pile of hay that was left in his pen. He had tried to tell them which one had taken Penelope, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The humans never paid enough attention to him to learn important information. And that was the problem. Now it did matter and one of his herd was gone. He stomped his feet in frustration.

  The only solace he’d had all day was the time that The Pacifist had spent with him. She was always a comfort.

  And now, after a long day with little food and an anxious belly, he could not sleep. No, he would not. He had failed in his job to protect the herd. He had not kept them safe. He had just watched as she was led away, and when he had raised his voice to the sky, no one had come. No one had protected the female that he had bedded with on one glorious night.

  It made him angry, angry with himself and angry with the humans for doing nothing. It was a rare emotion for him, but he couldn’t focus on anything else.

  He didn’t want to be in this pen.

  Prince Albert glanced up at the moon.

  Penelope was all alone. It would be cold again tonight. Would she be warm enough without the rest of the herd to share their warmth? Would she birth their cria with no one there to reassure her? To check that the labor was going smoothly?

  He shook his head, his ears flopping about in frustration.

  Most of the human stables were dark. Two of them still glowed with a warmer light than the moon provided.

  He squinted into the darkness.

  Someone was walking toward the pens!

  The human kept looking around as if being hunted. It was strange behavior for sure, as alpacas generally kept close to one another to ensure protection. Cria in the center, females around that, males the first line of defense. It didn’t make sense to keep moving like that. Humans were so strange, but at least they sometimes carried apples.

  Apples would make him feel better.

  Prince Albert shook his head once again, trying to get the scent of apples from his mind. They were so sweet and delicious and distracting enough that he had let Penelope just walk away!

  As the human came closer, Prince Albert realized the scent of apples had just been his imagination. No! He was smelling something quite familiar, though. He sniffed the air, trying to figure it out, but couldn’t place it. It wasn’t food, it was something important. He was so tired, but he had to focus.

  There was the scent of the human. It was one the herd knew and trusted, but this human was wary. It wore something over the short fur on its head as if the fur was insufficient to keep it warm. They were wrapped in a jacket, something all the humans had because they never grew proper coats in the winter.

  The human crept closer, moving right up to the center gate and letting themselves inside.

  Then Prince Albert smelled it. It was as unmistakable as could be. A scent he might not have ever thought to breathe in ever again.

  Penelope.

  The human had been near her! They had touched her! The human knew where Penelope was!

  Prince Albert screamed in alarm.

  The human turned and tried to run out of the gate, but they had latched it closed behind them and when they tried to move, they slammed into it.

  Where is she? Where is my Penelope? Bring her back! Tell her I miss her. He pleaded with the human, squeaking and screaming at them.

  The human’s hand was shaking as it tried to unlatch the gate.

  The girls were up and active in a flash. Quick glances around their pen soon focused on the human skulking around their gate.

  Agatha, always the worrier, quickly understood Prince Albert’s call and added her scream to his own. Before long they were all raising their voices to the sky in hopes to call out to more humans for comfort and protection.

  The human’s eyes were wide in alarm, their breaths coming out in clouds. Not a muscle moved on the human as they watched in rapt horror the herd who refused to allow another victim.

  A shaking hand clutched the gate, frozen like a fence post.

  Human stables lit up, squares of yellow light blinking in the darkness.

  The one who smelled of Penelope fled into the darkness. They hadn’t been hunted after all. They had been hunting.

  He screamed once again, joining his voice in with his girls. The human would not hunt them again this night. Prince Albert would make sure.

  Chapter Seventeen

  June hummed contentedly to herself as she got ready for bed. She paused with her arms half-way through the sleeves of her pajama shirt. The sound coming from her mouth was eerily similar to the sound the alpacas made when they seemed content. She supposed it didn’t matter. She had spent a lot of time around alpacas today.

  She sat carefully on the sofa and slowly pulled off her shoes. All that walking around the campground today had definitely wo
rn her out and she was looking forward to a good night’s sleep. She bent down and pulled off her socks. June had learned to be cautious with that movement. Of course, the one hip didn’t mind, but the other one would probably never fully recover. Sitting too quickly sometimes shot pain through her, if she wasn’t careful.

  Mr. Bigglesworth had, as usual, flopped down and spread out her mass of fluff across the entire middle of the bed, leaving almost no room for June, and she was not about to take the spot nearest the wall. Climbing over a cat in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom could be disastrous for both of them.

  Carefully, June scooped up the backside of the giant orange fur-ball, scooting first her rear, then her front, farther back on the bed. It took her two repetitions to move the large feline the requisite distance, and Mr. Bigglesworth protested the entire way, though she still didn’t stand up and help the process along. This was the dance they went through every night in the RV.

  “You have the entire bed to yourself for most of the day. You are going to have to learn to share.”

  In response, the cat finally stood up, stretched, then walked back to her previous spot and tried to curl up in it.

  “Oh no you don’t,” exclaimed June, claiming her side of the bed and shoving the cat over. “I need sleep just as badly as you do.”

  Mr. Bigglesworth meowed loudly as June settled under the covers on her good hip. Her big tail swished back and forth, practically smacking June in the face.