I nodded, wondering if every time I interacted with this cat, he’d demand I shut off another one of my senses.
“You got the goods. I can smell it. Now here’s what I need you to do. Unpackage the steak and place it on the floor in front of you. I’ll come inspect to make sure everything is good, and then I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
I nodded and reached into my purse, freeing the offering from its foam and plastic packaging and then wrapping the trash in the bundle of napkins before jamming the wad back in my purse. I set the steak on the floor as instructed and waited.
“Mommy?” Paisley cried with joy. “Is that for me?”
I had to pick her up one-handed so that she wouldn’t gobble down our payment before it could be collected.
I glanced to the side even though Beans had warned me not to and saw him creeping forward, slow and close to the ground.
He stopped in front of me to inspect the New York strip and give it a couple licks.“Yes, this will do quite nicely.”
I tapped on my phone and said,“Hello. Yes. What did you want to tell me again?”
Beans appraised me for a moment and nodded.“Ah, a clever ruse. Although you don’t need to be all that clever to outsmart Frank. Do you think it was his idea to start this store? No. It was all part of my plan to get some variety in my diet so I’m not stuck eating fish food my entire nine lives. Anyway, the warehouse guy is named Steve. He comes here twice per week to deliver stock—in fact, he was just here yesterday, which means he probably won’t be back for a few more days. The man you’re looking for drives a big white truck with a picture of a crab and a lighthouse on it.”
“Yes, I’d be happy to arrange a meeting,” I told the imaginary speaker on the other end of my phone. “What days work best for you and Steve?”
“I can’t say. He’s never consistent. Something doesn’t quite smell right about the guy, if you catch my drift. But if he’s got Frank’s deer feed in the warehouse, I’m sure he’d be happy to sell it to you for a tidy profit.”
“Thank you,” I said, then stuck my phone in my purse and reached down to pat the orange tabby on his head.
He grabbed the giant hunk of meat and ran off to hide somewhere, and I grabbed the largest bag of bird seed the store had on offer, ready to hightail it out of there and put the next stage of my plan in action.
16
“Okay, my friend, what have you got for me?” I asked my web browser as I pulled up Google and input my search terms:Crab, lighthouse, warehouse, Blueberry Bay, Maine.
The first few results were for actual lighthouses, fish markets, and local restaurants, but on the second page of the completed search I found a link to Scotch on the Docks Storage Services, owned by one Steven Scotch. That had to be it, although I hadn’t the faintest idea how the crab on the logo related to the name of the company. It was definitely a match though.
The business address given online was for a post office box rather than a physical location, and trying to call the number listed resulted in a prerecorded message that informed me the number had been disconnected.
Very strange for someone I knew from a firsthand account was still actively in business. In the absence of any better ideas, I decided to drive down to the docks and see if I got lucky.
As I drove through town to the bay that gave this region its name, I wondered how Octo-Cat was faring in his search of the neighbor’s homestead. Had he already found the missing memory card and remaining cameras? Or had he gotten bored and decided to take a nap? Either was just as likely, but I’d find out soon enough, I supposed. My thoughts also drifted to Pringle as I wondered whether the raccoon had managed to get the frightened buck witness to speak yet. It was a bit odd that the three of us were pursuing this case from entirely different angles, but it also gave me confidence that we’d have it solved in no time. Even if both cat and raccoon had slacked off, I was still making good progress on my own—or rather, with Paisley at my side.
I pulled into a large, mostly empty parking lot, took several deep breaths, and made my way down to the water. I didn’t love being back on the wharf, considering my last visit here had led to my near drowning at the hands of a pistol-wielding madwoman. This time, however, I’d come during daylight hours and of my own volition. I also had Paisley to help keep me safe. Sure, the little Chihuahua couldn’t do much in a fight, but she had a habit of barking at even the slightest perceived threat. More often than not, she sounded the alarm for minor things like blowing leaves or an approaching mail carrier, but still, it was good knowing she’d be watching my back, my front, and really all sides of me as I investigated the area.
After a short walk through the area, I found a crew actively unloading a large ship on the quay and marched right up to say hello.“Hey, hello! I’m looking for Steve Scotch, Scotch on the Docks Storage. Do you know where I might find him?”
At first it didn’t seem as if any of them had heard me. The handful of burly men and women just kept moving goods from the ship to the land. They made a tiny, efficient army of sorts in their matching dark blue coveralls and heavy steel-toed boots. I’m sure I appeared ridiculous to them with my polka-dotted maxi dress, foam flip-flops, and Chihuahua companion, but I made no apologies for my fashion choices. I only felt sorry for bothering them when they clearly had so much work to do.
“Hi, excuse me,” I tried again, raising a hand to better attract their attention. “Do any of you know where I can find Steve Scotch?”
This time they definitely heard me. A couple of the men grumbled to one another while staring daggers in my direction and making me decidedly uncomfortable. I was just contemplating how far I should push my luck when one of the female crew members set down her load and jogged over to speak with me.“Careful who you go asking for around here. Steve Scotch is persona non grata after he stiffed us on our last job.”
I winced at this revelation.“I’m sorry.”
She dragged her forearm across her brow and let out a heavy breath.“Not your fault, but as far as I know the guy’s gone out of business. We haven’t seen him around here in close to a month.”
I nodded.“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” No wonder the other workers had seem irked by my presence. I’d come out of nowhere to remind them of a bad memory. For all they knew, I was looking for the prodigal warehouser because the two of us were friendly. Not because I suspected him of murder. They didn’t need to know all the details, especially since they didn’t know where Steve Scotch had disappeared to. On all fronts, it seemed the man had gone out of business, yet Beans had confirmed that he still visited the pet store twice per week with new deliveries—and he’d even been there as recently as yesterday. What was going on? And how did it relate to Angela Miller’s death? I was so close to solving this case I could taste it. I’d just need to go back to the pet store and talk to Frank or Beans or perhaps both.
But what could I say to explain my line of questioning? Beans was a cat. I was lucky he knew as much as he did and that he was willing to share that information with me for a relatively low payoff. Frank, on the other hand, was clearly uncomfortable with the entire idea of buying and selling off-season feed. If I went back and asked more questions about it, I’d need to explain everything…
Or I could get Nan to go in and specifically ask after the warehouse guy. Maybe she could say she needed to store some things and that Steven had been recommended but she’d had a hard time getting in touch, and then mention seeing his van outside the pet supply store the day prior. Yes, that would certainly beat staking out a strip mall. That was far too conspicuous, considering I didn’t want to draw attention to myself or this investigation. Sending in Nan as a collaborative agent made the most sense, which meant I needed to head home now, clue Nan in on the plan, and catch up with the others.