Page 6 of Death By Llama (Friendship Harbor Mysteries #7)

I saw Brad trying to clean up the mess Peanut had created, although he wasn’t glaring at the round, little man who created the disaster. He was definitely glaring at Ashley and St. Nick. Then his attention turned to Dave as my droopy-socked employee caught Jack’s lead.

“It’s about time you got that wretched creature away from my booth.”

Dave frowned at him, perplexed by the man’s irritation. “You don’t like Jack?”

I appreciated that Dave seemed genuinely unable to comprehend the possibility that anyone wouldn’t like the amazing camelid.

“Do you really think that it’s appropriate to have a large, dirty animal around food?”

“Hey!” Peanut yelled, overhearing Brad’s comment. “You need to stay out of this.”

Brad grimaced at the drunken Peanut but didn’t bother to correct the belligerent little man’s assumption that he’d been referring to him. In my opinion, that would have been a much better way for pouty Saint Nick to handle the whole situation, too.

Dave led Jack away from both our booths and out into the thoroughfare. As Oliver had hoped, the crowd did garner some interest in the adorable, fuzzy animal. Jack, being Jack, was more than happy to be admired by everyone.

I smiled. At least I could count on Jack to be somewhat sensible.

I turned back to see Cameron catch Peanut’s upper arm and tug him away from the scene. Dougie held Peanut’s other arm, but George, who never liked to stray too far from his barstool, headed back to his spot at the end of our booth.

“Jimmy, I need a beer.”

Jimmy, who had continued to prep food throughout the whole debacle, grabbed a beer from a cooler and plunked it down in front of George.

“Well, that was certainly entertaining,” Eleanor said. For once, the elderly lady sounded genuinely amused.

I had forgotten that she was there. It was unlike her to be quiet for so long. Usually, she had an opinion about everything—and lots of them.

“It almost makes up for the lack of doughboys,” she added. “Come on, Millie.” Then she paused. “Actually, give me one of those green drinks.”

She nodded toward the container of bright green Grinch Punch. I poured her a glass. There was something particularly fitting about her wanting to drink this cocktail. Although, I didn’t think her heart would ever grow three sizes, however.

“Come on, Millie,” she repeated. “Let’s go watch the puppets beat the stuffing out of each other.”

She placed her cocktail in the basket of her walker and started pushing it over the grass.

Millie paused long enough to fish a few bills out of her purse and hand them to me, payment for all the things that her mother had helped herself to.

I nodded my thanks, as usual, feeling badly for the other older woman. Millie really had gotten a rough lot in life.

When I looked back to where the fight had happened, I saw that Saint Nicholas was now stalking his way in the same direction that Eleanor and Millie had just gone. His red velvet cloak swirled around him more like Darth Vader than a beloved Christmas character.

Ashley stood there watching him go, and I got the distinct impression she wanted to follow him. But instead, she sighed, then turned back to her booth. She joined Brad, helping clean up.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other from where I stood, but I could tell by their expressions that the conversation was not exactly a pleasant one.

My natural curiosity got the better of me.

I wanted to move closer so I could overhear what they were saying.

But before I could move out from behind the booth, Cameron returned.

“Do you have any idea who that guy was?”

I shook my head. “Everyone’s saying that he’s a local who always plays Santa Claus at these types of events, but I’ve never seen him before. I don’t recall him at any Christmas event, and I know I’ve never seen him at the pub.”

“Well, he nearly ruined my whole grand opening.”

I gave Cameron a sympathetic smile, although I did think he was being a little over dramatic himself. But then I noticed his wildly ruffled hair, which was usually perfect, and the pinch of his mouth, and I could see that he was truly stressed.

Brandy chose that moment to jump in—and not be particularly helpful.

“Or maybe it made it more interesting.” She seemed to realize that wasn’t exactly the best thing to say. “More entertaining? I mean, you know, memorable.”

She saw Cameron’s grim expression and gave up, turning toward a customer to take their order.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal,” I assured him. “I mean, I know it wasn’t how you wanted things to go today, but stuff happens. And everything else is going so great, and everyone I’ve seen today is having a great time. I don’t even think anybody will remember it.”

Cameron’s lips pinched again. “They will remember the lack of doughboy stand though.”

“See, that will end up being the biggest drama of the day.” I smiled, trying to lighten his mood. Then I added, “You have pulled off a fabulous event.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but then he managed a smile. “Thanks, Soph.” He leaned in to give me a quick kiss.

“Where are my parents, by the way?” I asked, looking around. In the midst of the hullabaloo, I hadn’t even looked for them.

“Oh, I left them in the inn. They’re getting settled in their room. I think they’re pretty tired after the long flight.”

“Settled in here?”

Cameron nodded. “Yeah. I offered for them to stay at the inn, and your mom immediately seemed excited about the idea.”

I tried not to be hurt. My parents were coming all the way from California to stay at Cameron’s inn rather than with me. It was pretty hard not to feel a little offended. But then again, I had to remember that my mother had very mixed feelings about her childhood home, which was where I lived.

“Okay. I guess I better get back to work,” Cameron said.

I nodded. “Sure. I better get back to work too.”

I watched as he headed back toward the Inn. Then I looked over toward the Opulent Occasions booth to see if Ashley and Brad were still in a tense discussion.

Most of the mess had been cleared away, and even their decorations were back up. Although not as perfect as they were before. Knowing it was unkind of me, I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction that they weren’t quite as spectacular now.

Of course, their decorations still looked better than ours.

And only Brad was behind the counter.

“Are you okay?” Brandy asked, surprising me.

“Yeah, why?”

“I heard Cameron say your parents are staying at the inn.” Brandy was also an unrepentant eavesdropper like me.

I shrugged. “It’s probably easier, honestly.”

But while I knew that was true, I did feel a little hurt. I needed to shake that off though.

“I’m going to have a walk around to see how things are going.” The distraction of the festivities would help.

I even considered maybe going in to help Oliver, but that would mean potentially running into my parents. I didn’t want to talk to them just yet.

“No problem,” Brandy said. “I think between me, Janelle, Jimmy, and George, we have the place under control.”

I had no doubt. Brandy was my manager at the pub. I knew she could more than handle a booth at a grand opening festival.

I headed down the thoroughfare, almost laughing to myself when I saw that Dave had made it no further than the glassblower again. Then I noticed it was just Dave standing there.

I immediately rushed toward him.

“Dave? Where’s Jack?”

Dave blinked, completely entranced by the molten glass.

“Jack?”

“Yes. You know—my llama?”

“Oh.” He looked around. “Well, he was right here a minute ago.”

Just then, from beyond the last few other booths and across the people-crowded lawn, I heard a scream.

Not the angry screams of another fight, but a high-pitched scream of absolute terror.