Not that my llama kicked anyone. That was a fact now. Still, I felt awful.
“Why are you up so early?” I grumbled, closing my eyes again.
“It’s almost noon.”
I blinked. Really?
“But I’ve been up for hours. I let Jack out to graze. I took a walk down to the water. And I found this.”
He strode to the edge of my bed and waved a piece of paper in my face. I frowned at it, trying to focus my bleary eyes on what it said. Finally, I snatched it out of his hands, squinting to read the flowery lettering.
“There is a blueberry festival. Today. Food, rides, crafts, and fun.”
I handed the paper back to him, wondering why he bothered to show me the flyer.
“That does sound fun.”
“So, let’s go. We need some fun. And I want to get the whole Maine feel.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, then nodded. I immediately wished I hadn’t. My head pounded and a wave of nausea hit me. Why oh why was I such a freaking lightweight?
“Food, rides, crafts and fun, Soph. I love blueberries.”
“Who doesn’t?” I grumbled back.
Oliver’s excitement wasn’t diminished by my grumpy reply. “I’ll give you a minute. I’ll make some coffee and some toast.”
I started to nod again, but caught myself. “That would be great actually.”
“Excellent,” he headed out of the room, calling out as he headed downstairs. “Food, rides, crafts, and fun. It has two of my favorite F words.”
Despite my misery, I managed a smile. He did have a point. I loved all those things too. Well, maybe not the ride part. I swallowed back another wave of nausea.
“Okay, Soph,” I said aloud. “You can pull yourself together.”
I sat up and groaned. “And avoid pinot noir for the foreseeable future.”
Fortunately after a long, hot shower, I managed to feel somewhat human, although I was less than peppy as I walked into the kitchen. As promised, Oliver had coffee and toast waiting for me.
I collapsed on one of the stools and forced myself to take a bite of the dry toast. It was like paste in my mouth, but I forced it down. Then another bite and another. By the time I finished one slice, my roiling stomach had calmed.
“You are a lifesaver,” I said after a sip of my sweet, creamy coffee.
“Well, how many times have you been there for me.”
“So many,” I said dramatically, then smiled. I finished my coffee, then took a deep breath. “Okay, I'm ready. Let’s find out what a blueberry festival is like.”
We stepped out of the house to discover it was a bright, beautiful day. The sky was blue, birds sang. I breathed in deeply. This really was a gorgeous place.
“Hey, guys.”
I spotted Hannah over by Jack’s enclosure. She wore high-waisted, denim shorts and a baby blue T-shirt that said, Be Kind. On her feet were her pink Converses.
“Hi, Hannah,” I called to her, heading in her direction. “I like your shirt. I have one like it.”
She smiled, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Of course, she was sad. The poor kid just lost her grandmother.
“Are you here to hang out with Jack?”
She nodded. “Then I’m meeting some friends at the blueberry festival.”
“Hey,” Oliver said with a wide grin, “that’s where we are heading too. Is it as amazing as it sounds.”
Hannah didn’t look quite as excited as my friend. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. My grandmother used to sell her blueberry jam there.”
My heart ached for her. I couldn’t help myself, I had to give her a hug and to my surprise she hugged me back.
“Do you want to walk there with us?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that would be cool.”
“Great, let’s see what this festival is all about. Did you already check on Jack?” I asked, realizing Jack probably should be let out. It was a beautiful day and the llama needed to graze and get some exercise.
“Actually, Miss Sunny used to bring Jack to the festival,” Hannah said.
“Really?” I tried to imagine walking the large animal around the festivities.
Hannah nodded. “She’d let kids pet him and last year he was crowned Blueberry King.”
I shot Oliver a surprised look. “Blueberry King. So Jack is a local celebrity?”
“Kind of,” Hannah said as if I should already know this.
“I say we do it,” Oliver said. “I think I saw some sort of muzzle thing hanging in the shed. Hannah, do you know how to put that on him?”
Hannah laughed. The sound made me laugh too. It was good to see her not so somber.
“It’s not called a muzzle. It’s a harness. And I have seen Miss Sunny put it on a few times. It looks pretty easy.”
Oliver looked impressed. “Okay, then let’s do this.”
We headed into the barn. After a bit of trial and error, we got the nylon, rainbow-colored harness onto Jack. I had to give the animal props, he waited patiently as Oliver and Hannah fiddled with it. He must really like the blueberry festival too.
“How many newbie owners does it take to harness a llama?” I joked, although we all looked at our work proudly. Jack made his purring noise.
Hannah located his leash and we started on our way.
“I hope Jack wins king again,” Oliver said, holding Jack’s leash.
Jack loped beside him, already looking very regal, if I do say so myself. Many other people were walking up Main Street toward the fairgrounds, where the festival was held. Several people greeted us and the llama. I was glad to see the locals who’d heard of the false accusations against Jack didn’t seem to fear him.
“So how did he win Blueberry King last year?” I asked Hannah as we stopped to let two elementary-age kids and their mother pet him.
“He was up against Dean Jordan and Sheriff Pelletier,” Hannah said as if that should be answer enough. “Oh, and a chicken named Stu.”
I laughed, imagining the two men’s reaction to losing against a llama. The chicken probably didn’t care.
“Clearly the best man won,” Oliver said as we started walking again.
The fairground was more like a large field with dirt pathways zig-zagging around tables and booths. A small Ferris wheel had been set up in the middle along with an ornate gold and mirrored carousel with flashing lights and antique horses spinning in a circle. Beyond that, there was a bouncy house filled with jumping, squealing kids. A band was set up in a covered bandstand playing classic rock favorites.
“I feel like I’m walking onto the set of a Hallmark movie or something,” Oliver said, his delight obvious. I had no idea my friend could be so sentimental.
“Hey, mister, can I pet your llama?” said a little blonde boy with something blue and sticky smeared around his mouth.
Some of Oliver’s glee faded at seeing the messy state of the kid. “Okay, but don’t get him all sticky. He’s here to win Blueberry King.”
I rolled my eyes and moved over to crouch beside the little boy. “Of course you can pet him. His name is Jack.”
The boy grinned. “Jack,” he said as if trying the name out or committing it to memory. He reached out a grubby hand and patted the animal. Despite myself, I did wince when he left a blue, gooey smear on Jack’s white fur.
He tapped the llama’s side a couple more times, then dashed off to join his calling mother.
“If he ruined Jack’s chances to bring home the crown…” Oliver said with a disgusted shake of his head.
Hannah giggled.
“I have wet wipes,” I told Oliver, because I didn’t want him to fixate. Which he would. I pulled the pack out of the small purse I had put over my shoulder and across my body. “Here.”
Oliver diligently cleaned up Jack and then like a kid, handed me the dirty wipe. I rolled my eyes yet accepted it. Making a face, I shoved it in my purse.
We wandered through the event, stopping here and there to look at crafts. I bought a
rock painted like an owl that I thought would look good on the kitchen windowsill. Oliver bought a green baseball hat that had the term “Maine-iac” embroidered on it. It sat perched sideways on his head as he and Hannah shared a container of chocolate-covered blueberries. I also bought some home-made blueberry jam from a sweet woman in her thirties, who seemed to have a dozen children scampering around her table.
“Okay,” Oliver said to Hannah. “You are the old pro here. What should we make sure we don’t miss here?”
“You don’t want to miss the doughboys,” Hannah assured him. “And the pie-eating contest.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “They actually have a pie-eating contest?”
Hannah nodded, laughing at his excited expression.
“I’ve died and gone to Castle Rock.”
Hannah gave him a puzzled look, clearly not getting his Stephen King/Stand By Me reference.
“Okay, we have to see what time this amazing pie-eating contest is going to happen,” he said.
“I think I saw a chalkboard with a list of events back by the entrance,” I said. “You guys go check that out. I’m going to keep looking at the crafts,” I said. The two scampered away with Jack in tow, Oliver looking more like the excited youth than Hannah.
I laughed and turned my attention to a booth filled with quilts and pot holders and other hand-sewn items. I touched the edge of one of the beautiful quilts, a kaleidoscope of star shapes and bright colors. I recalled my mother’s horror at the idea of me buying a quilt and felt amused and defiant. She’d hate this.
“That’s one of my favorites.”
I turned to see Millie sitting in a lawn chair in the shade of her booth. She wore sunglasses even though there was no sun on her and I immediately felt her pain. I just only started to not have a dull aching in my own head. Booze was the devil, at least for us wimps.
“I didn’t see you there,” I said with a smile. “Did you make all these?”
She nodded, dropping the book she’d been reading to her lap. I noticed it was a romance novel and I felt a wave of sadness for the older woman. She was clearly a romantic, and she’d thought she’d found her grand romance with Cliff. Only to have him die, while also discovering he was a dog who had made plenty of other women feel the same way for him.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s something to keep me busy.”
Again, I felt sorry for her. Millie didn’t have a life she deserved. That was obvious.
“They are just beautiful. How much is this one?” I gestured to the quilt I’d been admiring moments earlier.
“That one is three hundred dollars.”
I tried not to react with sticker shock. Three hundred dollars. That seemed like a lot, but then again, this quilt was made by hand. That was hours of work. And tons of detail.
“I’d like to buy it.” Okay, I didn’t exactly know how I was getting paid from the pub. Or even how much. Another topic Dean always managed to avoid with me. But I did have some savings and I had made some decent tips from waiting tables. So why not. The quilt would look amazing in my grandmother’s house.
I was just finishing paying Millie, who seemed pleased that I’d made a purchase, which made me happy, when Oliver and Jack reappeared.
“I lost Hannah to her friends,” he said, looking like the kid who’d been ditched at the playground. He stroked Jack’s snout. “Oh hello, Millie.”
Millie managed a small smile. “How is Jack enjoying the festival?”
Before Oliver could answer, a grumpy, raspy voice we all knew and dreaded, I glanced at Millie, some of us more than others, grumbled, “Get that stinking beast out of my way.”
We turned to see Eleanor being pushed in a wheelchair by Jessica. Jessica rolled her eyes and maneuvered the old lady into the covered stall, near where Millie sat.
“No worries, Eleanor, the llama isn’t in my way,” Jessica said, sounding far more solicitous and sweet than her expression revealed.
“Miss Eleanor,” I said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Don’t call me Miss Eleanor,” she snapped. “This isn’t the damned old South here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, and then wondered why. I wasn’t the rude one here.
“And I’m fine. My daughter insists that I use this to embarrass me.” She thumped the arm of the wheelchair angrily. “I’m perfectly capable of getting around on my own.”
“Mom,” Millie said, her tone soft and meek. “You know I feel better when you use the chair on uneven ground or when you will be walking for a long time. It makes me feel better.”
The old lady humphed, but didn’t argue.
“Well, I think we should probably go find those doughboys,” Oliver said to me, not hiding that he wanted to get away from the tension in the little stand.
“Right,” I agreed readily. Even Jack pranced a bit in place as if he wanted out of there too.
“Thank you for this beautiful quilt,” I said to Millie, holding up the white trash bag she’d given me to transport the quilt home in. “You do such amazing work.”
“Thank you,” Millie said sincerely and again, I felt sorry for the older woman. I suddenly had a huge appreciation for my mother. She could be a little judgy and she definitely had her pretentious moments, but she ultimately always supported me and I never doubted her love for me. I got the feeling poor Millie rarely got a kind word from her crotchety mother.
“Did you find anything interesting on your walk?” I heard Millie ask her mom as we strolled away.
“The same crap they have every year,” Eleanor said grumpily. “Did you bring my knitting? I need something to do if we are going to be stuck here all day.”
“No, Mom, I didn’t.”
“I can go get it for you,” I heard Jessica offer in her overly friendly voice. “I have my key. I’ll be back.”
“Jessica is trying to get out of there too,” Oliver whispered as we headed to the food truck advertising corn dogs, hand-cut fries, and the much coveted doughboys.
Once we got our doughboys, which was a thick circle of fried bread dough served hot and covered in powdered sugar, we found a spot in the shade and sat in the grass.
“I’ve found nirvana,” Oliver moaned as he tore off a piece of the pastry and popped it in his mouth.
I had to admit it was seriously delicious, crispy and chewy at the same time with just the right amount of sweetness. “Hannah wasn’t lying.”
We munched on our new favorite treat, watching the other festival-goers. Behind us, Jack nibbled on a patch of clover.
“I’m going to miss this place and you,” Oliver said.
I leaned my head on my friend’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too.”
We sat like that for a moment, then Oliver hopped up. “Okay, let’s go, I have a pie-eating contest to win.”
He held his hand out to help me up. “You’re really doing it?”
He nodded, spinning his baseball hat backwards in preparation. “I’ve been preparing for this day all my life.”
I shook my head, chuckling. I couldn’t deny that. Oliver had mastered the art of overeating.
“Come on, Jack,” I said, snagging his leash. “We have to cheer Oliver to victory.”
The sun was getting low in the sky by the time we started home. Oliver proudly wore his first place ribbon on his berry-stained T-shirt, having finished his pie in one minute and fifteen seconds. I wore Jack’s crown for Blueberry King, very proud that he’d defended his title, although Dean and Justin hadn’t been there to run against him again. I also had my bags of crafty treasures and the beginnings of a sunburn. Overall, a very successful day.
“I think I have to lie down,” Oliver groaned as he walked with me to return Jack to his shed. “I’m stuffed.”
I didn’t doubt that. He ate his weight in fair foods. “Go on in. I’ll finish taking care of Jack.”
He looked very thankful. “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve reached a new low in my life.”
; “I got this.” I led Jack into his stall, then worked on the buckles of his harness. He nibbled at his crown as I worked, knocking it off my head.
“See you in a bit, then.” Oliver staggered out of the barn, probably tipsy on sugar and carbs. I finished caring for Jack, then hung his crown on a nail on the shed wall. “Good job today, big guy.”
The llama rumbled in response, making me laugh.
I was still smiling when I locked the gate to his pen. Today had been wonderful. No thoughts about Cliff. No wondering if there was a murderer in our midst.
“Sophie.”
I turned to find Hannah walking across my backyard.
“Hey, Hannah, did you have fun on the rides?” She and her friends had joined me to cheer on Oliver during the pie-eating contest, but they had taken off again after his epic win to explore and get on the rides.
She nodded. “My friend Billy rode the carousel fifteen times in a row, then barfed in a trash can near the bandstand.”
I nodded with approval. It sounds like Billy was committed to his work.
“So, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor,” Hannah asked, suddenly seeming a little timid.
“Of course.”
“Would you mind coming with me to my grandmother’s house? I’m supposed to go there to feed her cat. My mom is allergic, so we have to leave him at Grammy’s house until my aunt can take him when she comes up from Portland for the funeral.” She paused as if ashamed to admit that next part. “And I don’t like to go in there alone. You know since what happened.”
I totally got that.
“Yes,” I said immediately. “Of course, I’ll go with you.”
I didn’t want Hannah being any more freaked out than she already must be. Plus, I might get the opportunity to peek around at June’s house. Maybe there was something there that would reveal more about Cliff’s death. She did say she knew about all the women Cliff had been involved with. And just like that, my day off from super-sleuthing was done.
June’s house was a cute, little Cape Cod with two dormers and shingle siding. Hannah shoved a hand into the front pocket of her shorts and pulled out a key. She unlocked the front door and stepped into the dim, silent house.
Murder Drama With Your Llama (Friendship Harbor Mysteries Book 1) Page 13