Herd is the Word
Page 12
He chuckled but didn’t look up at her. “Still at it, I see.”
June clutched her cane a little more firmly, as if it would calm her frustration. “Well, yes, but the investigation is supposed to be at a complete standstill. Blanche doesn’t want me to look into it anymore.”
Jameson raised an eyebrow.
“She thinks that my daughter and I have something to do with the missing alpacas.”
“Hold on, I forgot my socks,” he said, disappearing into his trailer.
She heard screaming again and turned to see the girl in the braids running for all she was worth, something clutched in her hand.
The boy struggled to keep pace.
Whatever game this was, the kids seemed to be having a great time.
Jameson reappeared a moment later, white woolen socks in hand. “So, you stole the alpacas, did you?”
“I did not—” June started, ready to give him a piece of her mind when she caught the way he was holding back a smile. Mischief danced in his dark eyes.
“I can’t imagine how you’re getting any sleep with an alpaca in your RV. You got him toilet-trained yet?”
June laughed despite herself. “It is pretty ridiculous, isn’t it?”
He sighed. “I can’t help hearing the gossip even if I don’t really want to be part of it.” He dusted off a foot and pulled on one of the socks. “What’s the new evidence?”
She filled him in. “I noticed that the trough in Prince Albert’s pen had been knocked over since yesterday. There’s a big footprint in the mud. It has to be a man’s, unless you know of a woman around here with very large feet.”
He held up his worn, work boots. “You going to make all the men show off their shoes?” He grinned. “Look how fancy mine are!” His were dirty, brown leather with yellowish laces that had been tied back together in a couple places. They might have fit the description but were completely devoid of mud or hay that she could see.
June shifted her weight to her good leg. “I didn’t mean to imply that you had done it.”
His boots had clearly had not seen mud anytime recently. They were coated in a layer of fine dust. Whoever had left the footprint behind would either have dried mud all over their boots or they would have been wiped clean.
“Well, I’m glad to be graduated to the list of men who probably didn’t do it.” The lines around his eyes deepened as if he were trying to suppress a laugh.
June ignored his retort. If she thought he was likely to have taken the animals, she wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. “You’re right about what my plans were. Unfortunately, I can’t make out a tread mark. Then again, even if I could, someone could show me the wrong pair of shoes.”
“Well, I’ve only got the one pair,” he said.
“I guess it’s unfair to just look at men’s feet.”
He pulled on one of his boots and tied it. “Don’t go wasting time just to placate people who might complain. No one ever gets anything done that way. Besides, someone has to stop the alpacas from disappearing, and the sooner we know who did it, the better.”
June felt a little better. It was the first happy thought she’d had all morning. After a sleepless night, arguments, accusations, and frustrating dead-ends, she was grateful someone here brought a smile to her tired face. “So you think I should keep looking into it?”
“You tell me. It’s not really your business but anyone who cares even a little about the alpacas will appreciate it if you find them.”
“But I can’t go bothering everyone about their shoe sizes if Blanche doesn’t want me to.”
Jameson dusted off his other foot. “And you’re just going to let people blame you for taking them?”
June sighed. “No.”
He squinted up at her. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you actually like this sort of thing. Maybe this would be a terrible vacation for someone else, but for some reason, you enjoy puzzling things out.” He pulled on his other sock and boot. “I think the reason that you’re so frustrated has nothing to do with Blanche. What’s bothering you right now is that you haven’t been able to figure it out yet.”
June was taken aback. “That’s unfair.”
He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “I just call it like I see it.” He stood and dusted off his hands on his faded blue jeans.
She pursed her lips. Darn him, he might be right. She felt a spike of frustration along with a little gratitude. She did want to figure out who had taken the alpacas and not just because she wanted to make sure her family wasn’t blamed. She wanted the puzzle to come clear to her, to have the satisfaction of knowing who did it and why. “I feel like I was getting close to figuring the whole thing out, too.”
He gave her a serious look. “You are going to be careful with this, right? Don’t go confronting anyone by yourself. Stealing alpacas might not sound that serious, but whoever is involved has made it clear they’re willing to break the law. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
June rolled her eyes. “My daughter says the same thing.” She dug in her pocket. “This is the other thing. I found it floating in the trough last night. Any idea who this belongs to?”
He scratched at his beard. “Well, I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this belongs to Fran. I’ve seen some on her just like that. Tiny little stitches.”
“Can you imagine her taking the alpacas?”
Jameson frowned in thought for a moment. “Nope, but someone around here had to have done it. She’s as likely as anyone else, I suppose.”
Inwardly, June groaned. She was not sure she wanted another conversation with the psychic, but since both Danielle and Jameson had pointed her that way, that’s where she would go. Fran might insist on reading June’s palm this time, but it didn’t matter. It was her vacation, and this was what she wanted to do with it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
June approached Fran’s trailer with caution. As she walked onto the chartreuse mat, she remembered how the psychic had flung the door open last time. June paused, but Fran didn’t appear.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
And so, June knocked.
Only sometimes psychic, I see.
She suppressed a smile.
The door opened a crack and Fran peered out, blinking at the sunlight. “What do you want?”
June held out the earring. “Is this yours?”
Fran’s eyes narrowed.
“I have talked to two different people who say that you’re the only one who makes earrings like these.”
Fran reached out a hand to snatch it, but June deftly tucked it back into her pocket.
Fran’s lips thinned to a line, and she glanced around to see if anyone was looking. “You might as well come in. That earring has been missing for months.”
The inside of her travel trailer smelled thickly of incense. The cabinets and inlay over the refrigerator were a honey oak color. The beige seating matched square print valences. Fabric was draped over all of the windows, making the interior extra dim, even though the blinds were open. Fran kept a tidy place except for the dishes that waited in the sink, but everyone had dishes piling up sometimes, especially in an RV. At the far end of the kitchen, June could see a bed made with a pink comforter.
A table and regular chairs sat across from the kitchen where June would have expected a dinette.
“Did you remodel in here?” June asked.
“Well, not really. I replaced the dinette. I found it uncomfortable. In such a small space, there is no point holding on to something that you don’t use.”
“That makes sense. I like the table better. I have a dinette in mine.”
Fran’s eyes narrowed. “You did not come over here to discuss decor.” She gestured to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
June sunk into the overstuffed sofa, but not so deep that she might not be able to get out again. “I came to ask you about the earring.”
Fran sniffed. She
pulled out one of the chairs and sat, one leg tucked under her. “I don’t know how you managed to find it. Honestly, I’m taking a risk letting you in here. Everyone else in the camp thinks you took the alpacas.”
“But you don’t?”
Fran rolled her eyes. “You don’t need the sight to realize that your daughter would have no interest in stealing the animals. Where would she put them?”
“One could say the same thing for just about everyone in this campground, but someone had to have a reason for taking them.” June was half-tempted to ask her if she had any premonitions about who might have done it, but after their conversation the day before, she doubted that would be a good idea.
Fran rose gracefully from her chair, her gypsy skirts swishing with her movements. “Hold on.” She walked into her bedroom and picked up what looked to be a rock with a cord attached to it. She set it on the table and plugged it in. “There is something wrong with your aura. It’s in even worse shape than it was the day before. No offense, but I don’t want you to contaminate my home.”
“And a rock will help with that?”
Fran clicked a switch on the little wooden base of the rock and it glowed pink from within. “Himalayan salt rocks release negative ions into the air, neutralizing any harmful vibes coming off of you.”
“Oh, um, thank you.” She was at a loss for what else to say, so she pressed on with the questions she had come to ask. “Can you tell me about the earring?”
Fran resumed her seat, a smug smile painted on her face. “No one else in this camp knows how to make those earrings. I’m the only one who can tat.”
“Tat?” asked June. “Like a tattoo?”
“Obviously not. You saw the earring. It has nothing to do with people’s skin. Tatting is a dying art.” She sighed dramatically. “I do my best to keep it alive. The earring you found is precious. The symmetry of the circles help people find balance in their lives.”
“So you sell them?” June asked.
“Yes, but that one was mine. I used to wear it all the time, and I just haven’t had the time to finish a new set. Where did you find it?”
“It was floating in Prince Albert’s trough last night. It was there before he was taken.”
Fran cocked her head to one side. “If you think I put it there, you are mistaken.”
June watched her carefully. “So you didn’t steal the alpacas?”
Fran put a hand to her chest. “Obviously not. I thought that as someone who was also being accused of theft you would understand, but here you are confronting me, as if my aura could be maintained by doing such a foul thing. I thought you would be different.”
“I’m sorry,” said June. “I did have to ask.”
Fran stood, moved the lamp a little closer to June, and sat back down. “Did you take the alpaca?”
June shifted on the couch. “Well, no.”
“See, it doesn’t feel good to have people asking you if you did something terrible, even if you didn’t do it.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I knew that someone would return the earring. I just didn’t know it would be you.”
June tapped her lips with a finger. As strange as Fran might be, she seemed to be telling the truth, at least about not taking the alpacas. Still, the keys, and now the earring, pointed to Fran, especially since Melanie was gone. Someone was probably trying to frame her. That, or Fran was a very good liar.
“Can you give me my earring back? Hopefully I can wash and block it. It was made from a good quality string.”
“Block it?”
Fran sighed out a long breath. “For someone who Jameson thinks is clever, you sure don’t know very much. Blocking means starching it and pinning it to a hard surface to let it dry.”
June hesitated.
Fran stomped off to her bedroom, coming back with the other half of the pair. The one that had been in her bedroom was in better shape, and a little lighter in color, but they were clearly the same. “See, it is mine.”
June nodded, but she still was not ready to hand over the earring quite yet. “I’ll give it back once you’ve answered all of my questions. How did you lose it?”
Fran pursed her lips and sat back down. She was younger than many of the other people June had met so far, maybe only a decade older than Rebecca, but her mannerisms made her seem much older. “It was a couple of months ago. I told you about the symmetry and how it helps you find balance. These earrings were some of my favorites. Most of the ones I tat are sold, but I kept this pair because they came out perfect.” She smiled wistfully.
That didn’t answer the question, so June repeated it. “How did it go missing?”
Fran shot her a sidelong glance. “Well, I was out to dinner, if you must know.”
“Were you in the campground? Or did you drive somewhere else?”
Fran had seemed so open before, but now she seemed reluctant to speak. “It was in the campground. I wasn’t home when I lost it. I was out with someone.”
June gave her a flat stare. “Who’s place? Who were you having dinner with?”
Fran flushed. “I’d rather not say.”
June noticed she was still clutching her cane and laid it next to her on the couch. “If you won’t tell me that, then can you tell me what you and Melanie were fighting about?”
Fran rubbed her temple. “I have been trying not to think about her. She is gone, after all.”
June thought about all the possible things the women could be fighting about. Living so close together could be reason enough. There was something here, something bigger. What could it possibly be? One thing stood out in her mind to be the most likely, given Fran’s reaction to the mere mention of the other woman. “I’m starting to think that you two were fighting over the same man.”
Fran blanched. “Why do you say that?”
June tried not to smile to herself. It was an easy enough guess, but there was something so satisfying about being right. “There are few things that will make a woman so angry at another, but meddling with someone else’s man…”
Fran crossed her arms. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Hmm,” said June. “How was it then?”
Fran opened her mouth and shut it again. Then she stood up and walked over to the tiny bit of counter space that was between her stove and sink. She lit all six of the sticks of incense and waved one through the air, creating a cloud of smoke. “If you must know, I wasn’t actually interested in him. Neither was Melanie. We both wanted a favor and she thought I was going to get the advantage. So… well…”
“And so you got in a fight and accidentally revealed that neither one of you really wanted to be with him?”
Fran stomped toward her, pointing the incense stick at June as if she were the one responsible. “She was the one who spilled the beans, not me. She was the one who took things too far.”
“That really doesn’t make your actions look any better,” said June. “Toying with a man’s heart is cruel.”
Fran sighed heavily, sliding the intense stick into a little pot with the others and slouching back into her chair. “I know it was mean, but he started hitting on me at a very bad time. I had just ended a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. I had packed up and moved to this campground when things went south with my ex. I was angry. I’m not proud of what I did. It’s just that I was looking at all men as being the same sort of self-serving, uncaring people who were always willing to take advantage, so it only seemed fair. Besides, Melanie certainly would have backed out of the relationship before I did. I mean, he isn’t very attractive.”
June picked up her cane and clasped it in both hands. “Did he know that you knew about each other?”
Fran brushed a hand over her skirts and tried to conceal a small smile. “No. I think he assumed he was pulling one over on us, thought he was hot stuff, sneaking around with two women. That’s partly why I didn’t feel bad about it. He never once mentioned that he might be seeing someone else. I think he was still trying to
make up his mind if he was going to break up with Melanie or me when she ruined everything.”
“Doesn’t treating someone like that give you bad karma or something?”
Fran shifted in her chair. “Since you don’t believe in karma, I am not going to grace that question with an answer. I think it’s time you give me back my earring and leave.”
June hefted herself to her feet and placed the earring down on the table next to its twin. She took her time, not wanting to press her luck, but she was so close to figuring this whole thing out. She could feel it, and Fran could help her unravel this whole mystery.
“You should know that none of it was supposed to get out of hand the way it did. I just figured I could convince him quickly, get what I wanted, and then I’d end the relationship, let him down easy. But then Melanie stepped in and that slowed everything down. She was the one who told him what I was doing.”
June glanced over a shoulder.
A wry smile spread across Fran’s face. “At least it backfired on her, too. Ruined it for both of us. That’s karma for you.”
June turned back toward her. Whoever Fran and Melanie had duped would have plenty of reason to want to frame the two women. “Are you going to tell me who it is?”
Fran shook her head. “I’d rather not. After everything I’ve done, it seems unfair. I’ve already put him through enough.”
June felt a spike of anger. She shouldn’t have given Fran back the earring. “So you’re just going to let him get away with stealing the alpacas and framing you for it? So far, all of the evidence points to you, not the absent Melanie. As soon as I leave the campground, I’ll be sure to send the police your way.”
Fran crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a smug smile. “If that’s supposed to be a threat, it’s a weak one. The police would be smart enough to figure out that I didn’t take the alpacas if—and it’s a pretty big if—Blanche even lets them into her campground.”
“I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” said June.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said the psychic. She rose, walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you for this conversation. It was very … enlightening.”