The Llama of Death

by Betty Webb

  When I entered the cabin, DJ Bonz, the three-legged terrier mix I’d rescued from Death Row at the pound, rushed to meet me. Love ya, love ya, gimme food, gimme walkies, he yipped. Miss Priss, the one-eyed Persian mix adopted from the same pound, merely stalked over to her bowl and stared at me as haughtily as a one-eyed cat can stare. I fed them both, then sat in the galley and watched them eat. The tide was going out, rocking the Merilee ever so gently. Above the slurps and gulps of my pets, I could hear the soft shush-shush of the waves against her hull. Serenaded by the sea, I began to nod off, only to be startled back into wakefulness when Bonz jumped into my lap and licked my face.

  Walkies! Walkies!

  “Oh, Bonz, you’re so subtle.” Since he was in such a hurry, I put off changing out of my Renaissance duds and took him for his walk.

  Gunn Landing Park, located on the other side of the harbor’s parking lot, was empty except for three other liveaboarders walking their own dogs. We waved at each other through the thickening fog, but other than that, kept our distance. Linda Cushing had obviously followed through on her promise to care for my animals, because Bonz had little to do other than mark his territory. Less than ten minutes after I left the Merilee we returned, only to find Linda, my elderly neighbor, standing on the deck. She wore an anxious expression and held an open can of dog food in her hand.

  “Oh, thank heaven, there he is!” she exclaimed. “I was afraid he’d gotten out somehow. But what in the world are you doing here, Teddy? I thought for sure you’d be at the jail.”

  “To visit Joe? He’s away on that Homeland Security thing.”

  She gave me a peculiar look. “No, Teddy. To see your mother.”

  “To see Caro? What do you mean?”

  The odd look transformed into one of pity. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “What don’t I know?”

  She glanced at her watch. “If you leave right now, you’ll get to the jail in time for evening visiting hours. I’m sure Caro can tell you more than I can. If you want, I’ll even drive you over there. Maybe that’s best, seeing as how you’re bound to be pretty upset and all. What do you think?”

  I’ve always liked Linda, but I was getting tired of these guessing games. Normally a forthright person—too much so, for some people—tonight she would have won a gold medal for obtuseness. “For the last time, Linda, what don’t I know and what’s it got to do with Caro?”

  She reached over and grabbed Bonz’s leash. “I’ll settle him in, because I want you to get in that truck of yours right now and head for the San Sebastian jail. That stupid man Sheriff Joe left in charge has gone and arrested her.”

  “Joe didn’t leave Elvin in ch…Wait a minute. Did you just say that Elvin arrested my mother?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “For murdering that guy who ran the wedding chapel. At least that’s what the local news said. At first I couldn’t believe it, because, well, we all know what Caro’s like, don’t we, but she’s not really crazy enough to kill anyone. At least I don’t think she is. Why, I’ve known her for years and the worst thing you can say about…”

  “Gotta go!”

  As I ran for my truck, her voice trailed after me, “…her is that she’s an awful snob.”

  ***

  I made the fifteen-mile drive inland in record time. Five minutes after walking into the San Sebastian County Jail, I sat facing my mother through a Plexiglas window in the visitors’ area. She was upset, but not for the reasons you would think.

  “It’s appalling, Theodora, simply appalling. This morning, not realizing that I’d be wearing a vulgar orange jumpsuit so shapeless it could have been made by a blind tailor, I had a Tawny Pink mani/pedi because the subdued hues would look so cunning with my lavender lady-in-waiting gown. Now look at me. If I’d known what lay in store, I would have opted for something in the bronze family like that Sun-Kissed Copper I’ve been eyeing. You know who I blame for all this? That precious fiancé of yours, that’s who, for being tasteless enough to buy this nasty thing. Orange, I tell you. Orange!”

  Folding her arms across her surgically-assisted chest, she sat back on the other side of the Plexiglass with an expression of triumph, having scored another one against Joe.

  “Clashing colors should be the least of your worries. Here you are, sitting in jail, about to be charged with murder. For Pete’s sake, Moth…”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Caro!”

  I had to count to ten before I could speak. “Caro, please tell me you at least called an attorney.”

  For a moment, a fleeting moment, an expression of concern crossed her face. “As to that, I used up all the calls allowed me trying to reach you. After my sixth attempt, that vile Elvin had me locked up in a cell. Which reminds me. Did you know that jails furnish their cells with blue plastic mattresses? You can imagine how that looks next to an orange jumpsuit. No sheets or pillows, either, just a nasty blanket some homeless person probably threw away.”

  I took a deep breath. “Then I’ll call an attorney for you. You’re due in court for a bail hearing tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why should I waste good money because of a fool like Elvin?”

  “Caro, don’t you understand how much trouble you’re in?”

  “Elvin has no sense, Theodora. Surely you can see that.”

  This was impossible. “Mo…Uh, Caro, why don’t you tell me what happened? There must have been a terrible mistake, because there’s no way you would kill anyone, let alone Victor Emerson.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve said something sensible. If I were going to kill anyone it would be that simpering creature who calls herself Bambi. She drives a pink Cadillac, can you possibly get any more vulgar than that? Pink! And have you seen her breasts? They remind me of that old Ripley cartoon, Believe It Or Not.”

  Before I could stop myself, I said, “Bambi’s only one cup size larger than you.”

  “Two. And on her, they look cheap. She probably went to some bargain-basement surgeon, whereas I use only the best. Are you sure you don’t want a little work done, Theodora? There should be lush bosoms peeking out from that Faire dress of yours, but all I can see are two little bumps. Having your best interests at heart, I’d be glad to foot the bill.”

  Whenever I try to have a serious conversation with my mother, she always goes off on a tangent. Mother has a brain, but it’s rusty from disuse. This is what happens when a woman is in the habit of getting by on her looks. In her late fifties—I could never pin her down on her exact age—she is still so beautiful that her ex-husbands come running whenever she crooks a manicured finger. In fact, getting married to, then divorced by Caro, has become an odd sort of status symbol among the men of the Central California Coast. Since she only married society A-Listers, it proved they had finally made it.

  “Caro, could you stop dithering and think?”

  “You are such a disrespectful child.”

  “No doubt, but you’re in big trouble here, and you’d better start paying attention to what’s going on. Tell me what happened.”

  At first I thought she would clam up in defiance, but then that seldom-used muscle in her head reasserted itself. “Well, I was taking a break in that shady spot in back of the dungeon wall, it’s so nice and quiet, but maybe…”

  “Caro, please. Get to the point.”

  A frown. “I’ll tell this my way if you don’t mind. Anyway, there I was, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet before I had to take part in the King’s Progress again, you know we’ve got a new King Henry now, don’t you?”

  When I didn’t answer, she continued. “I was listening to the song of a lovely little mockingbird when the next thing I knew, there was Elvin with more deputies! They handcuffed me and led me to some dreadfu
l patrol car that smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. That boyfriend of yours ought to…”

  “The point, Caro!”

  “You can be so irritating, Theodora, but all right. To make a long story short, I was under arrest. Oh, and I almost forgot. When Elvin was handcuffing me and leading me away, he recited that Miranda thing you always hear on Law and Order. I’m pretty sure he skipped a couple of lines, so none of this will hold up in court, which will help when I sue him for wrongful arrest. Because I will, you know.”

  “Was he rough? Do you have bruises?”

  When she shook her pretty head, her perfectly styled hair immediately resumed its shape. I wondered briefly if her hairdresser could do anything with my own unruly locks. Probably not.

  “Nice to know they didn’t beat you with chains or anything. Have they fed you dinner yet?”

  “Yes, and it was disgusting. A TV dinner, not even one of the better brands. Fried chicken, with a serving of what appeared to be glue and gravy. A regular diet of that sort of thing will ruin my figure, so you’d better get me out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise…” She looked down at her size zero waist. “…none of my dresses will fit me, not even that lovely little Cavalli I picked up last week. I bought a pair of stiletto Louboutins to match it. Oh, dear. Do feet get fat?”

  “Caro…”

  “Don’t nag. Get me an attorney poste haste, and visit me first thing tomorrow morning with my makeup kit. I can’t go to court looking like this.”

  “You look wonderful. As always.”

  “Thank you for that, Theodora. It’s nice to see you finally remembered your manners. However, you and I both know I’ll look awful until I change my color palette to match this jumpsuit.”

  ***

  After a corrections officer led my clueless mother away, I demanded to see Acting Sheriff Elvin Dade. He refused to see me. Wisely, perhaps, considering the mood I was in. As soon as I cleared the jail’s front door, I reached into my pocket for my cell phone, only to remember it was dead. I started to walk back inside to use one of the jail’s payphones, then decided against it. They were probably all tapped.

  Have you tried to find a working payphone recently? The powers that be, having decided we always remember to recharge our cells on a timely basis, had yanked them from most of the corners, stores, and gas stations. After pretty much canvassing the whole of San Sebastian for a phone and failing, I climbed into my pickup and headed back to Gunn Landing Harbor where there was a payphone in the community laundromat.

  It is a universal law that once things start to go wrong, they continue. Two-thirds of the way back to the harbor on Old Bentley Road, my Nissan pickup blew a tire and I wound up in a ditch. I spent a few minutes regretting my lack of a spare, then stepped out into the chilly air. While I’d been at the jail, night had fallen and it was full dark. With rush hour over, or what passes for rush hour in this sparsely populated section of the county, it could be hours before anyone else came along, so I decided to hike up the hill to Gunn Castle and use one of the phones there. Mind you, I was still wearing my wannabe “buxom wench” garb from the Faire, which would hamper my climb, yet I had little choice. Caro needed an attorney and she needed one now.

  Hitching up my dress, I abandoned the truck and set off.

  The Gunn Estate is a large one. Several hundred acres of vineyard stretched before me, the earth beneath the vines cold and damp. But to continue on foot to the side road that paralleled the estate and wound its way around the hill to finish up at the zoo would double the distance. So into the muck I stepped.

  A half-hour later I arrived on Aster Edwina Gunn’s stately doorstep. I felt like hell and looked it, too. My feet were covered in mud and my long skirt was wet to the waist.

  “Why, Miss Bentley,” said Mrs. McGinty, the housekeeper, when she answered the door. “What a nice surprise.”

  “Not for me,” I muttered, entering the vast marble entryway. It was still flanked by the same two suits of armor that had terrified me as a young girl, and they looked just as menacing now as they had then. “I hiked up here through the vineyard and got bogged down in the mud.” At her questioning look, I added, “Flat tire. The nearest phone’s in the library, right? I need to call an attorney. Then AAA.”

  Mrs. McGinty’s face took on a sorrowful expression. “Car trouble can happen in the most inconvenient places. And I take it you’re calling an attorney for your mother? We here at the castle all heard about Mrs. Bentley…” Confusion chased the sorrowful expression away. “Mrs. er…”

  Not for the first time I wished Caro would stop changing her name every time she got married. “My mother’s current last name is…” I had to think a moment. “…ah, it’s Mrs. Petersen now. For a while, anyway. Yes, Caro’s in trouble, and it’s serious. She needs the best lawyer I can find and as fast as I can get him over to the jail.”

  “Might I suggest Albert Grissom, at Hamilton, Lawler and Grissom? He successfully handled some recent unpleasantness for the family, and I’m certain he’ll do the same for your mother.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a cell phone and handed it to me. “Given your muddy feet, using the phone in the library isn’t a good idea. Aster Edwina had the Aubusson rugs cleaned the other day, and you know how she is.” With the steely grip of a nightclub bouncer, she dope-walked me past the armor and over to a massive Jacobean armchair. “While you make your calls, I’ll fetch a water basin and towels. And some hot chocolate. You’re shivering.”

  Before I could say “Don’t trouble yourself on my account,” she bustled off.

  First things first. I called the attorney, and after answering a few uncomfortable questions, many of them financial, he promised to be at the courthouse first thing tomorrow morning. Then I called AAA. No, I wouldn’t be with the truck. No, I couldn’t remember the license number, but I was certain it was the only elderly Nissan pickup mired in a ditch on Old Bentley Road ten miles west of San Sebastian. Yes, I’m an AAA member, yes, haul it to the nearest open garage, yes, I know that’s probably in Monterey, yes, here’s my membership number, yes, you have a nice day, too.

  When Mrs. McGinty returned with the promised comforts, Aster Edwina Gunn was right behind her.

  “What have you gotten yourself into now, Theodora?” the old harridan asked, as Mrs. McGinty wrapped a heavy blanket around my shoulders.

  “Mud.”

  “I’m not blind. But whatever for?”

  “Truck broke down.” I took a deep swig of hot chocolate.

  “Not trailering that poor llama, I hope. If you’ve let anything happen to him your head will roll.” Despite her advanced age and wealth, Aster Edwina micro-managed the zoo and all its animals and employees with the energy and attention to detail of a much younger person.

  “Alejandro’s safe at the zoo. I took him there as soon as the Faire closed.”

  “He’d better be all right. I have a soft spot for that animal. Unlike humans, he’s honest about his feelings.” When she smiled, she looked like a hawk about to pounce on a mouse. Not even time had softened her features. “But what’s all this I hear about Caro murdering Victor Emerson?”

  “She didn’t.”

  “So you say.”

  “Yes, I do say, and so would you if you gave it any thought. For heaven’s sake, Aster Edwina, you’ve known Mother since she was a child. Have you ever known her to hurt anyone?”

  Never one to let a “gotcha” moment pass, Aster Edwina flashed me a look of triumph. “If you’ll remember, Theodora, she once delivered a roundhouse right to my nose, almost breaking it. Quite an arm your mother has.”

  Oops. I’d forgotten that long-ago nose bashing incident. “She only hit you because you’d spanked me with a riding crop.”

  “Which I had every right to do since I caught you sneaking into my vineyard.” She looked at my feet. “Oh,
my, do I detect a pattern here? In case you don’t remember, you were swiping grapes. Repeatedly. For weeks. Have you resumed your thieving practices? Anyway, Caro was always too lenient with you, and it was time somebody taught you a lesson. Now tell me, how is your mother? Is she confortable? I hear the facilities at the San Sebastian County Jail are less than stellar.”

  I know when to holler uncle. As Mrs. McGinty took off my muddy shoes and scrubbed my filthy feet, I brought Aster Edwina up to date, leaving out all that business about color palettes. She listened carefully until I finished, then pronounced Elvin Dade an unmitigated idiot.

  “By the time Sheriff Rejas gets back from Washington, Elvin will have the county knee-deep in lawsuits,” she said. “The ninny should have been forcibly retired years ago. It’s unfortunate that he’s the attorney general’s brother. Proves the old saying that every family has its idiot, doesn’t it?”

  I agreed, not that it did any good. Although Caro’s arrest had been without due cause, she was still trapped in a six by nine cell for the night. “I plan to be in the courtroom tomorrow when the judge sets bail. Then I’ll drive her home.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “What do you mean? Of course I’ll be there for her.”

  “Show up at work or get fired. With so many zookeepers on vacation, we’re short-handed enough as it is.”

  “But my mother…”

  Aster Edwina interrupted before I could tell her Caro needed her make-up kit. “Don’t be such a worry-wart, Theodora. You called Albert Grissom, didn’t you? Brilliant attorney, brilliant. He’ll have her out of that cell in a heartbeat.”

  I began to relax. Aster Edwina might be pitiless, but she’s always right.

  Most of the time, anyway.