Саманта Сильвер - Busy As A Beaver

“Maybe it has to do with their old jobs,” I said. “After all, Gloria worked as a teacher, and Michael was an accountant for the school board, right?”

“That could be it,” Jason mused. “I was going to spend tomorrow in Portland anyway. I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Or you could, you know, let the police deal with it, seeing as now both the Willow Bay police and the Portland police are involved,” Charlotte suggested as she took a big bite of pizza.

“Absolutely no chance,” Sophie said. “This case gets more interesting by the day.”

I really hoped it wasn’t going to get any more interesting. One woman in the hospital and a man murdered was more than enough excitement for my liking.

Chapter 8

The next morning, I popped by Betty’s café once more.

“Do you know a Michael Carlton?” I asked when I got to the counter, and Betty gave me a knowing look.

“That wouldn’t happen to be the name of the man who was killed up in the city yesterday, would it?”

“Ah, so the rumor mill has already made its way through here, has it?” I laughed.

“To answer your question, though, no, I don’t know him.”

“I can’t find a link between him and Gloria. But there has to be one.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”

“You don’t know of any shady happenings in Gloria’s past, do you?”

“Goodness, no. I actually barely know the woman at all. She comes in here every so often, but not that much, and she’s only lived in town for a couple of years.”

“Hm, ok, thanks,” I said. The next day was Monday, which meant the vet clinic was closed, save for any emergencies. That would give Sophie and me time to go up to Portland, since it looked like that was where we were most likely to find our answers.

After spending the day taking care of the local injured animals, I packed up my things, said goodbye to Sophie and Karen, and made my way out to the local beavers’ lodge that had been vandalized. After all, I had promised them I would come by, and I wanted to have a look before the sun set, which in the winter was pretty early.

I worried slightly that I wasn’t dressed quite warmly enough for an outdoor escapade, but my worries were soon put to rest when I realized just how hard it was to wander through the thick forest to try and find the beavers’ lodge.

After scrambling through some bushes, swearing more than just a few times, and coming out looking like I’d just lost a fight to Bee—when really I had lost a fight to a number of branches and twigs—I found what I was after. The beavers’ lodge was on the larger side compared to others I had seen, about ten feet long and four, maybe five feet wide, spanning the entire width of the creek. All around the lodge were the remains of trees, the marks on them making it obvious that they had been cut down by the local beaver family.

Around the lodge was an elaborate dam setup to deepen the water level; the stream was naturally only about a foot deep here, which I was well aware wasn’t deep enough for a proper beavers’ lodge. The extra wood, mud, and rocks had been put in place to deepen the water, and past the dam, only a small trickle continued onwards toward the ocean.

While the lodge looked like it had been rebuilt, there were signs that what the beavers had told me the night before about it being wrecked was true. The mud near the creek was covered with footprints, and there were bits of logs scattered haphazardly about, like someone had grabbed them from the lodge and thrown them around.

Making my way carefully to the water’s edge, I looked at the footprints. They were definitely made by a man’s boot, and they were large. Maybe a size ten? Possibly eleven? I took pictures with my phone; the tread marks were fairly distinctive. In fact, the star shape on the soles looked familiar. I made a mental note to check at home and see if I could narrow down the brand at all.

“Hey, beavers, it’s me. Are you guys ok out there?”

The main beaver that spoke to me yesterday popped his head out and waddled over towards me. I had to admit, it was pretty cute the way the beavers stumbled along on land.

“We are alright. Thank you for speaking; we were worried that you might have been the bad human come back.”

“So, tell me what it is he wrecked,” I said. “I saw his footprints on the ground by the lodge.”

“Yes, he did wreck some of the lodge, but he also tore down some of our dam. That was where most of the damage took place, which meant that the entrance to our lodge was no longer underwater, and it became an untenable situation for us.”

“Right, because without the lodge being underwater you’re more susceptible to attacks.” I nodded.

“Exactly. There are coyotes in these woods, after all. We have to be careful, and we have to protect ourselves.”

“Do any of you remember exactly what the man looked like? Or where he came from?”

The beaver shook his head. “No. He came during the day, and we were all asleep. We woke up from the ruckus he was making, but only Naba dared to poke her head out and see what was happening until he left. That was why she saw him, but she didn’t get a good look at him.”

“Did you hear anything?” I asked. Beavers had terrible eyesight, but their other senses were heightened compared to human ones to make up for it.

“There was some muttering of some sort. It referred to the dam a lot, and there were some other words that the humans call curses.”

Alright, that was definitely something. It was possible that the person was actually saying “damn” rather than referring to the beavers’ dam, which I found more likely, especially if they were cursing as well.

“Good, that’s good to know. So it sounds like he was angry?”

“Oh, definitely. He was mad about something.”

That ruled out teenagers who were bored and creating random mischief just because they could. It sounded like whoever had come over here to destroy the beavers’ habitat had done it with purpose.

“Have you rebuilt completely, then?” I asked, looking around. While it was obvious that this place had come under attack, at the same time, it did look like the beavers had put most of it back together.

“Yes, we spent almost the whole night downing new trees and putting what we could back in place. However, it is hard work. Only three of us are fit to do it; the other two kits are too young.”

“Of course.” There was a reason ‘busy as a beaver’ was a saying, and these guys were proof of it.

“So do you know who did this to us?”

“I don’t,” I replied slowly. “However, I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

“I want to come by tomorrow, or whenever I get a chance, and put some security cameras in here. That way, if whoever it was comes back, I’ll have his face on video, hopefully, and I’ll be able to track him down.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping you would be able to tell us straightaway who it was. We heard from the other animals that you are quite skilled as an investigator; it’s why we came to you first.”

“Was the other part of that reason the fact that I’m the only human in the area who can talk to animals?” I asked with a smile.

“That factored in as well,” the beaver said. “However, we expected your work to be faster.”

“Unfortunately, detective work isn’t entirely about working hard; it’s also about getting lucky,” I replied.

“Well, here in the beaver world, it’s all about working hard. Luck doesn’t factor in; if you’re diligent in building your dams and lodges in time, then everything gets done.”

“Finding a vandal is a little bit more complex than building a lodge.”

“Please, like you could build anything remotely as complicated as this series of dams.”