19
After we finished talking with Irving, Octo-Cat, Paisley, and I returned to the woods. I couldn’t dislodge the trail cams from the thick tree trunk, but I was able to open them up and snag the memory cards.
My two furry sidekicks wanted to watch the feed of our house so they could admire themselves on camera, but I put them off in favor of watching Ms. Miller’s yard instead.
Sure enough, Irving appeared at the same time each evening to collect his dinner, and the old woman spent a fair amount of time standing with him and speaking words I couldn’t hear. The camera didn’t afford a view into the shed, but the panicked deer moving back and forth as he investigated the scene confirmed when the death had happened—and that no one else had been around.
“So it wasn’t a murder, after all,” I concluded with a sigh. I probably should have been happy, but the end result was the same. A woman was dead.
“Well, there you go,” Octo-Cat said with an unhappy sneer. “Case closed. I can’t believe you had me high-footing it all over the place for absolutely nothing. I deserve a raise.”
“But we had to know for sure,” I reminded him. This had happened practically in our own backyard. How could we not investigate?
Octo-Cat remained unconvinced.“Why? Nobody was paying us. We didn’t even like the lady. You tricked me into all of this by pointing out how superior I am to you. Lesson learned. Just because you need me doesn’t mean I need you.”
I put a hand to my heart.“Ouch, Octo-Cat. That really hurts me. I thought we were friends. Besides, if you don’t need me, then who is going to open your cans of food? Who is going to take care of you to your exact specifications? Who is—?”
“Mommy!” Paisley barked, and I turned to her with a quizzical glance. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but look!”
I followed her gaze back to the screen. The feed showed nighttime now, but the rear floodlights had been illuminated by motion.
“Just wait,” Paisley instructed, her eyes wide and glistening. “He came before, and I’m pretty sure he’s coming back again.”
Sure enough, a large man stalked across the yard and disappeared into the shed. When he reemerged he was carrying several small burlap bags stacked on top of one another. I couldn’t make out his tattoo of a crab, but still I knew we had our guy.
“That’s why the shed had been cleaned out,” I remembered. “We thought it was the police, but no. Steve Scotch came back to take the deer feed. But why would he steal deer feed? Was it just so he could sell it again?”
Octo-Cat scoffed.“That hardly seems like a profitable venture.”
“Something weird is definitely going on here. We know now that it wasn’t murder, but think about this for a second.” I really felt like I had all the pieces of the puzzle and just needed to see how they fit together. I racked my brain for everything I’d learned about Steve Scotch and the deer feed to put all the clues on display for my companions.
“Go on. I’m listening,” Octo-Cat droned impatiently.
Paisley stayed quiet but wagged her tail, which was all the confirmation I needed to continue.
“Okay, here goes,” I said, holding up my hands so I could tick off each detail on my fingers. “Angela Miller was feeding the deer next door. But right now there aren’t any local shops that will sell deer feed since it’s illegal to do so during hunting season.”
“She could have brought the feed with her when she moved,” my cat argued with a flick of his tail. He liked to be the one to put all the clues together, but this time I had him beat.
I shook my head.“She could have, but I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Okay, genius,” he hissed. “What have you got?”
“She went to the pet store hoping to make a purchase, but Frank probably gave her the same lecture he gave me. Knowing how she was with us, she probably gave him an earful, creating quite the scene.”
He nodded.“Right. I’m with you so far.”
“Okay, here’s where we have to join our two threads. The cat Beans mentioned that the warehouse guy had been at the store yesterday. That’s the same day Angela died. My guess is he overheard her yelling at Frank and then approached her once she’d left the store offering to sell her some feed at a significant markup.”
“But you said she hadn’t brought feed with her when she moved.” Octo-Cat grinned at having caught me up, but he hadn’t. Not really.
“I think maybe she brought some but ran out quickly when a huge buck started showing up for dinner every night. She needed to replenish her supply or risk losing her friend.”
“Oh, that’s sad!” Paisley chimed in, her ears drooping. Honestly, I hadn’t even been sure she was listening since she still had her eyes glued to the footage on my laptop.
“It is sad, but more than that it’s unlucky. When I was talking with Frank, he mentioned that his supplier had accidentally sent the feed several months early but was paying for it to be warehoused because of the mistake. Frank promised he’d have some for me to buy the second it became okay to sell again. Here comes a third thread.”
I paused, but neither animal had anything to say.
“Once I figured out the name of the storage company, I looked it up online. The address was a P.O. box and the number had been disconnected. I went down to the docks to ask after Steve Scotch, but one of the workers told me that he’d pretty much disappeared a month back after refusing to pay them for a job. All signs point to him being out of business…”
“Except he’s still going to the pet store twice per week and he came by our neighbor’s house at least one time,” Octo-Cat pointed out.
“Exactly.”
Octo-Cat yawned.“So where does that leave us?”
“I think Steve Scotch quit his job because he found a better offer. But he still needed a front so he kept up the whole Scotch on the Docks facade.”
“A front for what?” He yawned again. If I didn’t hurry, I’d lose him entirely.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Whatever it is, it involves the pet store though.”
“Do you think Frank is a bad guy?” Paisley whined. “He seemed very nice to me.”
“Maybe, but it’s also possible he simply doesn’t know what’s going on. If he were to blame, then I doubt he’d have been so forthcoming with the details. Also wouldn’t he have tried to sell me the feed under the table when I came in asking about it?”
“What’s under the table?” Paisley wanted to know, squirming to get a better view.
“It’s just an expression for when people do things the wrong way,” I explained with a laugh.
Her tail drooped in disappointment, softening my heart.
“I have an idea. Let’s all go to the pet store. Do you wanna go on another car ride?” I asked in a hyper babyish voice that always got Paisley riled up.
“Hard pass,” Octo-Cat said, hopping down from the table and sauntering away. “I need a nap. But let me know how it goes. Also don’t forget about my raise.”
20
When I arrived at Frank and Beans a short while later, I found a police cruiser already sitting in the parking lot outside.
Inside, I found Officer Bouchard standing on one side of the counter and Frank standing on the other. I let myself in, but neither seemed to notice my arrival.
“I already told you, officer. I would never sell deer feed off season. My professional ethics are a point of pride.” He spotted me standing in the doorway and offered a broad smile. “Oh, hello again. Three times in one day. I’m starting to think you’re addicted to my store.”
“What’s going on here?” I asked, picking up Paisley to cradle her to my chest and to give her a better view of the scene.
Officer Bouchard frowned.“That’s not really—”
“They’re accusing me of selling stolen goods,” Frank interrupted, all too happy to share. “Can you believe that? Me? I can assure you I follow the letter of the law.”