by Anne Canadeo
“He hates us. He wants to scare us off this farm. He’s been harassing us since we moved in, back in July.”
The officer looked at Ben quizzically. “Harassing you? How?”
Ben recounted the incidents, including the paint ball attack on Saturday. “We should have called the police after that. We thought about it. We just weren’t sure what to do. We believed it would stop. We’re new here. We don’t want to cause trouble with our neighbors . . .”
“Slow down a minute. These incidents have been going on for weeks and you haven’t reported them?”
“We should have. I can see that now,” Ben said with regret. “But we didn’t want to make a big drama out it. We’re just starting a business out here. We didn’t want a lot of bad publicity.”
Ellie bowed her head. Lucy could see she felt contrite now, even foolish.
The police officer stared at them both a long moment, then checked his pad again. “I need to ask you a few more questions for my report. Then I’m going to call this in. Detectives from the county will come out to follow up. Might be later tonight or even tomorrow. It’s hard to say.” He glanced down at Daphne again. “Don’t disturb anything in this field. Keep the other animals out of here until the property has been examined for evidence. We’re going to secure the area with tape.”
“Do you have to?” Ellie sounded upset. “I mean, people will be able to see that from the road. Is it really necessary?”
“This is a crime, ma’am. A felony. Whoever did this could get up to five years in jail.”
“They deserve fifty,” Ben said loudly.
Officer Hanson didn’t reply. He flipped his pad closed and stuck it in his back pocket. “I hate to see animals hurt. I hear llamas can be pretty good pets. Gentle creatures.”
“Oh, yes, they are. She was very dear. We’re going to miss her,” Ellie said quietly. She dabbed her eyes again.
The younger officer returned—looking eager to report, Lucy noticed. “There are some scuff marks on the fence. They show up pretty well on the white paint. And some footprints nearby. Over there, the side of the corral facing the woods.” He pointed with his light.
Officer Hanson didn’t seem surprised. “Okay, show me.” He left the group and headed across the pasture with his partner.
As the two officers walked away, Lucy noticed Ben looked suddenly alert. She followed his gaze and noticed a tall, thin figure at the edge of the woods—a man in a military-style camouflage jacket and a black baseball cap pulled down over his brow. He stood still and straight, blending in with the trees and brush.
Lucy blinked, wondering if she was just imagining him there. She wondered how long he’d been watching them. She would never have noticed if it hadn’t been for the sudden change in Ben’s body language.
Lucy stepped closer to Matt. “That must be Justin Ridley,” she whispered. She touched his shoulder and showed him where to look.
“Just stay right here.” Matt gripped her arm and drew her closer. “Don’t go near them.”
Ben had already started marching across the pasture, the beam of his flashlight fixed on Ridley, like a spotlight on a black stage.
Ridley didn’t flinch. He barely moved. Only lifted his chin a notch higher, staring straight into the light.
“Returned to the scene of the crime, did you?” Ben shouted as he marched toward his nemesis. “There he is. That’s the guy.” He pointed at Ridley as he called to the police officers, who were now on the side of the corral facing the road.
Lucy saw Officer Hanson turn. His gaze darted between the two men.
“Come on out here, you coward,” Ben shouted at Ridley. “Come on. The police want to talk to you. You’re not getting away with this, you cold-blooded killer.”
Ben was now only a few yards from the stone wall but still behind the corral fence, inside the pasture. Ridley stood on the other side of the wall but took a few steps out of the shadows.
Lucy could now see that something was tucked under his arm. A hunting rifle, she realized. Her breath caught in her throat.
“You’re crazy, Krueger. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ridley called back.
“You lie, Ridley. You’re a black-hearted liar,” Ben shouted.
Officer Hanson and his partner were now running along the outside of the corral—trying to end the argument before it went any further, Lucy imagined.
“Matt . . . this is getting scary,” she whispered.
“I know. . . . These guys aren’t fooling around. They really hate each other, and Ben has a temper,” he added quietly.
“And Ridley has a gun,” Lucy whispered back. “A really bad combination . . .”
“Don’t blame me if your damn llama died. I’m not surprised,” Ridley taunted Ben. “You don’t know the back end of an animal from its front. It’s a wonder they all don’t die on you.”
“You crazy, paranoid freak . . . get out of my sight. Before I choke you with my bare hands . . .” Ben started climbing over the corral. Officer Stahl rushed to the other side and pushed him back.
Officer Hanson ran in Ridley’s direction. “All right, that’s enough,” the police officer ordered. “We don’t want any more problems here tonight. Break it up. Or you’ll both ride back to the station with me.”
Justin Ridley didn’t move. “I’m on my own property, Officer. Any law against that?”
Officer Hanson ignored his question. “There was an incident here tonight. I need to talk to you, Mr. Ridley.”
“No problem,” Ridley replied in his low, flat voice. “That man and his wife, they’re the problem,” he shouted theatrically. “Just sitting on that property until they can cash in. They won’t give a damn about those animals after that . . .”
Officer Hanson walked even closer to Ridley, then stepped over the stone wall. They talked for a few minutes more. No one could hear what they were saying.
Officer Stahl finally persuaded Ben to turn his back on Ridley and walk to the other side of the pasture. By now, Ellie and Dot were waiting for him at the corral gate, along with Lucy and Matt. He walked by everyone and glanced at Ellie.
“Ben . . . what in the world were you doing out there? Do you want to get killed, too?”
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I saw him and just lost my head.” He let out a long breath and glanced over at Officer Stahl. “I’m sorry, Officer. Thanks for breaking it up.”
“You’ve got to stay away from your neighbor, Mr. Krueger. Let the police handle this now,” the young man advised.
Officer Hanson walked toward them. “Stahl is right. You’re lucky we were here. This situation is going to be investigated, Mr. Krueger. It will take some time, but we’ll figure out who killed your livestock. Just let us do our job and stay out of Mr. Ridley’s way. I just warned him, and now I’m warning you,” he said firmly.
Ben nodded, looking embarrassed and contrite. “I understand, Officer. I’m sorry. I was just so upset about Daphne. . . . I won’t go near the guy. I promise. If I see him, I’ll go back inside.”
Officer Hanson gave him a look. Lucy wasn’t sure if he believed Ben, but he didn’t belabor his point. “All right, everyone clear out of here. We need to seal off the area.”
Officer Stahl had already returned from the squad car with a roll of orange crime scene tape and begun the task. Officer Hanson took down Matt and Lucy’s contact information.
“The detectives assigned to this case might have more questions for you,” he told them.
“That’s fine. They can call anytime,” Matt replied. Matt and Lucy said good night to the Kruegers and Dot and then headed back to the village.
Lucy looked out the window as they drove back down the dirt road that cut across the farm and led to the main road. Darkness shrouded the landscape. The large lanterns and policemen’s flashlights eerily illuminated the scene. The canvas-covered mound, the tarp covering Daphne’s body, could still be seen clearly on the ground, in the center of the pasture. The orange crime sce
ne tape now circled around the corral and cordoned off a swath of the pasture, between the corral and the woods on Ridley’s side of the property.
“You must feel bad,” Lucy said as the truck bounced down the dirt road and past the barn. She reached over and rested her hand on Matt’s shoulder.
“I do. The wound was in an odd place. It was almost as if someone had tried to just slash her, thinking she’d bleed but it wouldn’t be really dangerous. I mean, if you were a real hunter—like they say Justin Ridley is—you would stab an animal in a truly critical place. Across the throat or in the heart. Or even the gut. But this cut was just across the shoulder. Not really going for the kill,” he explained. “Maybe the knife slipped and it just went too deep. Deeper than the attacker intended? But once the blade severed the artery, there was no way to save her.” He turned to Lucy, looking sad and pale. “I’ve rarely seen an animal maliciously and fatally injured like that. There’s something very wrong with anyone who could do that. I hope that person ends up in jail a long time. But they hardly ever do. Usually, they just get off with a fine.”
Matt’s voice was strained with anger and frustration. Lucy shared his outrage and disgust. But his observations also made good sense. Did Ridley actually attack Daphne, as the Kruegers believed? Or had it been someone else? Someone who lacked real hunting skills. And intended to just injure her but accidentally dealt a mortal blow?
Whatever the truth was about Daphne’s death, Ridley was definitely a scary guy. There was no question in Lucy’s mind about that.
Chapter Five
as Matt got ready to leave for his office the next morning, Lucy could tell he was still thinking about the horrific scene at the Kruegers’ farm last night. They both were.
Lucy sipped her first mug of coffee, staring out at the small yard behind the cottage.
Low gray clouds filled the sky, and a light rain fell. Gusts of wind blew handfuls of wet, dappled leaves to the ground, covering the garden and lawn behind the cottage.
Lucy wondered if Matt would have to go out to the farm again today, when the animal control unit collected the llama’s body. She imagined a dismal scene—the wet, muddy pasture; rain splashing the blue tarp and probably washing away most of the evidence the detectives might find in the field today.
She turned when he came in the kitchen but didn’t ask him about it. Just watched as he poured a pile of bran flakes in a bowl and filled his travel mug with coffee.
“I have my knitting group tonight.” He crunched down on his cereal, standing up, staring into space. She wondered if he’d even heard her.
“I remember. I’m going to work late and catch up on some paperwork,” he said between spoonfuls of cereal. “Guess it’s just me and the dogs . . . and some takeout. We’ll carry on bravely without you for a few hours,” he added in a mock-serious tone.
He smiled down at Tink and Walley, who sat side by side under the kitchen table. They answered with looks of adoration and beat their tails on the floor.
Lucy laughed. “I’m sure you’ll all be fine. Do you have to go back to the Kruegers’ farm today?”
“Gee, I hope not.” He looked somber for a moment and placed his empty bowl in the sink, then turned to her, his expression relaxed. “Thanks for coming with me last night. It was a pretty nasty scene. You really hung in there.”
His warm words pleased her. But she made light of her part. “You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t help much.”
He stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You always help me. Just by being there. And being . . . Lucy.” He gave her a hug and kissed her good-bye. Heading out the door, he added, “Get cracking on that vest, slacker. That was supposed to be my birthday present.”
That was true. Matt’s birthday was back in September. She was only a month off, so far. He might get it for Christmas at this rate, she calculated, but didn’t tell him that.
Once Matt left, she took care of her morning chores, skipping a dog walk into town due to the rain and a deadline on her current project, the graphic design of a children’s book about farm animals. Thankfully, there were no llamas grazing on these pages. Just the usual collection of chickens, cows, and a horse or two. Once she got into her office, she felt distracted again, thinking of the sad twilight scene at the Kruegers’ place, a different story entirely.
Lucy knew her friends would be mad if she didn’t toss them at least a scrap of news before the meeting. She dashed off a group note just to put it out of her mind and get on with her day.
Dear All:
You’ll probably hear this from Ellie, or it might even be in the newspaper today. There was another strange event at the Kruegers’ farm last night. A violent one too. One of the llamas was stabbed, at about dusk. They called Matt, but by the time we got there it was too late. The Kruegers called the police. Finally. Maybe they’ll get to the bottom of it. If Ellie comes tonight, she’ll tell us more.
See you later—xo Lucy
P.S. to Maggie: I still have very weak character . . . and a very big tangle in my argyle project. Just warning you.
The weather had cleared by the time Lucy arrived in the village that night. Patches of night sky and a nearly full moon could be seen behind the branches of tall trees along Main Street. Lucy parked her Jeep across from the shop and spotted Dana’s and Suzanne’s cars parked nearby. Ellie’s car was not there, she noticed, and Lucy wondered if she was coming.
“Last but not least, as usual.” Maggie greeted her from the back of the shop as she walked in. Her friends were assembled around the long oak worktable, with their knitting projects out and glasses of wine at hand.
“What did you bring for dessert?” Maggie asked curiously as Lucy shrugged out of her knitted wrap.
“It was my turn? You’re kidding . . . right?”
Maggie bit her lower lip. Suzanne put her knitting down and groaned.
Phoebe rolled her eyes and let out a moan. “Really?”
She managed to drag the word out to at least five syllables, Lucy noticed.
Dana was the only one who didn’t miss a beat in her stitching. She peered over her reading glasses, looking amused. “I have a few dried-fruit-and-nut bars in the car in my gym bag, if that helps. Gluten-free,” she noted.
“Yum-my. Let me at ’em.” Suzanne stuck out her tongue.
Lucy laughed then, too. “Of course I didn’t forget. I was just teasing. I can see now you’d probably banish me.”
“Not forever. Just a month or two. To teach you a lesson.” Suzanne collected herself and focused on her knitting again.
“You ought to be banished a little while for terrifying us. Some joke.” Phoebe set a stack of dishes on the sideboard alongside a pile of flatware rolled in linen napkins.
“I think the sentence depends on what she brought us.” Maggie walked in from the storeroom, following her assistant with a large covered pot. As she placed it on the sideboard next to the dishes, an appetizing aroma wafted in Lucy’s direction. She was curious to see what was for dinner.
“Carrot muffins with cream cheese frosting.” Lucy glanced around to gauge her friends’ reactions. “I used carrots I bought on Saturday at a farm stand.”
“You are absolved,” Maggie announced regally. “Just put them somewhere safe and we’ll start on dinner.”
Lucy put the muffins away, then settled into her place at the worktable.
She took out her knitting and glanced at Maggie. “Is Ellie coming tonight?”
“She’d planned on it, but she just called a few minutes ago. She and Ben are still upset over the incident last night and were dealing with the police again today. She’s feeling drained and didn’t want to leave Ben alone.”
Dana looked up from her project, a long striped scarf. “This probably isn’t the last of it, either, if the police are investigating now.”
“Finally,” Suzanne said. “Too bad a poor llama had to get slaughtered before they called the police in.”
“Ellie
regrets that now. She can see that they should have called sooner. I don’t have much experience with llamas. But I hear they can be very nice pets. Very sweet and playful,” Maggie said as she looked over her stitches. “That makes it a little worse, don’t you think? I mean, they had a real connection to the animal. Like a pet dog or something.”
“That’s true, Maggie. Emotional bonds with animals are very strong. Animals love us unconditionally, even when we don’t deserve it. And Ellie and Ben are not such experienced farmers yet that they’re used to losing livestock,” Dana noted.
“That’s what Matt said, too,” Lucy recalled from their conversation at home last night.
Maggie looked over at her. “Tell us what happened, Lucy. Ellie didn’t really go into the details, and I didn’t want to press her. One of the llamas was stabbed, out in the pasture?”
Suzanne had taken a skein of red yarn from her bag and was rolling it into a ball. She was making a sweater for her fourteen-year-old daughter, Alexis, who was very particular about her appearance these days. Suzanne predicted the teenager would probably not even wear the sweater when it was finished, even though she had personally selected the pattern and yarn.
“Did it die right away?” Suzanne asked quietly.
“It bled to death. Matt tried to save her, but by the time we got there it was too late. The stab wound was in the shoulder and shouldn’t have been life-threatening. But he said it was deep and severed an artery. There’s going to be an autopsy,” Lucy added.
“Animals are autopsied? I didn’t know that.” Suzanne looked up in surprise.
“It’s done by the county’s animal control center,” Lucy explained as she pulled the dreaded argyle project out of her bag. “They test wild animals, like raccoons, for diseases. Pet owners can request autopsies, too, if a dog or a cat dies unexpectedly or for some suspicious reason. The officer who came to the farm last night said it’s a felony to maliciously harm livestock. Whoever did it could go to a jail for a few years.”
“They should be locked up forever. It’s like killing a person. Almost worse, when you think how defenseless that poor llama was.” Phoebe looked angry, and her eyes were glossy, as if she was about to cry.