Free Good Girls Do by Cathie Linz Page B

festivities entirely.”
    “Well, I didn’t want them getting lonely.”
    Julia was almost afraid to ask. “Did they behave?”
    “Admirably.”
    Julia sighed in relief.
    “For the most part,” Angel added.
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Well, they didn’t seem to care for one boy in particular. What was his name again . . . ?” Angel tugged on her right ear, something she always did when trying to retrieve a memory.
    “It wasn’t Billy, was it?”
    “That’s it. He was dressed as a football player, and that might have upset Ricky. He prefers soccer to football.”
    “Who does?”
    “Ricky.”
    “He’s a llama.”
    “Who likes soccer.”
    “What did he do to Billy?”
    “Not much. Just set his boundaries.”
    “Billy is the mayor’s son.”
    “So he told me.”
    “What exactly did he say?”
    “I’d rather not repeat it. He was a bit upset at the time.”
    “Because Ricky set boundaries.”
    “And because of the wad of llama spittle on his chin.”
    “Ricky’s chin?”
    “No, Billy’s.”
    Julia took a deep breath.
    Note to self: Remain calm.
    “When did all this happen?”
    “About twenty minutes ago. But enough about me.” Angel patted her arm. “How was your day at work?”
    “Just peachy.” The library director had brought her the news that Walt liked the idea of the llamas being Serenity Falls prognosticators and wanted research done on how that could be accomplished. Much of her day was spent on that, in between helping library patrons and working out glitches in the November staffing schedule for the reference desk.
    Julia wondered if Walt would continue to be as keen on the llamas given what they’d done to his son.
    She didn’t have long to wonder, however, as Walt phoned her a few seconds later.
    “I’m so sorry,” Julia began, when Walt interrupted her.
    “I should hope so. I would think your loyalties to Serenity Falls would take top priority in this situation.”
    Not knowing where he was going with this train of thought, she just paused and waited for him to say more.
    “But now I hear that you’re thinking of moving,” Walt continued.
    “Me?” Julia rubbed her forehead again and curled up on her favorite chair. She needed aspirin and Pop-Tarts. “I have no intention of moving.”
    “Not you, the llamas.”
    “You told me to move them.”
    “That was before I considered the idea of them being our prognosticators. The town council is going to have a special conference call about it later this week.”
    “But you said it’s illegal to have llamas in my backyard.”
    “Yes, well, we can work around that, perhaps.”
    “Uh, Walt, have you spoken with your son recently?”
    “What does that have to do with anything?”
    “Well, he and one of the llamas had a slight misunderstanding.”
    “That wouldn’t surprise me. He told me you shouted at him before the Fall Fun Festival the other day.”
    “Did he tell you why?”
    “He may have. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”
    Which could be one reason why Billy acted up so much—to get his father’s attention.
    “But getting back to the llamas,” Walt said. “I thought we had an understanding.”
    “I’m sorry, but I’m still not following you.”
    “The word on the street is that your mother is going to move the llamas.”
    “Move them where?”
    “To a farm.”
    “Right. My neighbor mentioned that her cousin, who’s a dairy farmer, might have room on his property . . .”
    “Oh no, we’re not talking about him. I’m talking about one of the old-timers farms. The Amish. If she does that, we can’t set up the publicity opportunities I had planned.”
    “She could always bring back the llamas for any special events . . .”
    “But then they wouldn’t be Serenity Falls llamas. They’d be Amish llamas.”
    “Are you afraid they’re going to try to convert them or something?”
    “I’m just saying that once they leave the confines of our lovely city, we lose control over