Page 9 of The Pushy Pixies Are Going Down
Most of his crimes were non-violent—not all, but most—but it was clear the man was a thief. And from the look in his eyes in that photo, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d done worse crimes—a lot of them—and just hadn’t been caught yet.
I flipped the page, and my brow furrowed.
It looked like Higgins had done his homework and staked out the Whispering Pines Faerie Sanctuary—the place I’d initially tried to take Sola to. I was beyond glad she’d sent me that vision of the horrible, torturous things they’d done to her there, even if the thought of those things happening to my sweet girl gave me nightmares.
Thank god I hadn’t dropped her off with this sleazeball of a man.
Higgins had pictures of Paul Ferguson entering and exiting the sanctuary in his car, a few of him standing outside the main welcome building, and a few of him just… walking around the grounds.
I flipped to another set of photos, and my eyes widened as I leaned in to get a better look at them all.
There were a ton of photos of him standing on the side of the building where a delivery truck from Faerie Friends Food Supply was parked. Hm. I’d never heard of that company before. But I supposed I didn’t really go around buying a ton of faerie food.
Maybe I should look into it, though, and see if anyone specializes in firebird food. I’d been feeding her fresh fruits, veggies, and some freeze-dried bugs, but it would be nice to have something easy on hand. Especially if that’d guarantee her getting all the vitamins and nutrients she needed.
Hm. Something to think about for sure.
And I could get a feeder or something for the garden pixies that sometimes visited my backyard. The thought made me smile. That would be fun to watch.
I glanced at Sola. Actually, she… would probably like to chase them and perhaps even eat them. So… hmm. I’d have to think about that. I suppose I could just keep my familiar inside if there were pixies in the yard.
Shaking away my thoughts, I concentrated on the photographs.
For some reason, Higgins had a shit-ton of these Faerie Friends Food Supply photos, and I didn’t understand why.
It looked like there were three guys who all came for the deliveries, every single time, if the labeled dates and changes of clothes were any indication. And even though it had only been a week since I’d told Higs about this place, he had three different deliveries photographed. That seemed… odd.
Wouldn’t most businesses do weekly or even bi-weekly deliveries for things like that? It was animal—faerie—feed, but all of that food could be stored and sit for a while before being used. It wasn’t fresh, so it didn’t need to be used immediately. So why all the deliveries?
As I examined the photos, I felt my brow furrow deeper and deeper.
All of the photos were taken in the dark, so Higgins must’ve gotten there super early in the morning to catch these deliveries. I supposed it wasn’t that odd for food deliveries to come early in the morning.
He had several pictures of the three guys, plus Paul Ferguson, carrying two large boxes from the truck into the building. One photo of them near the truck, and another photo near the side entrance of the building. From what I could see, it was definitely the same two boxes, and they looked super heavy and awkward as hell to carry.
But why was he so focused on these boxes?
I looked at the first picture where two of the unknowns were pulling one box out of their truck, then looked at the last one where they were walking into the building.
I tried to take in every single detail, memorizing it for later when I went with Higgins to that interview—because of course I’d help him. He’d piqued my curiosity with this folder, which was his intent, obviously. So instead of having him come pick it up, I supposed I’d bring it to him and help him with that interview.Ugh.
As I stacked the photos back into a neat pile, I froze when I came upon that first photo again, the one where the guys were pulling a box out of their truck. It was timestamped.
2:36 a.m.
I blinked.The middle of the night?Wait. I pulled out the last photo of them carrying the box inside, checking the timestamp.
2:33 a.m.
I murmured, “What the hell?”
I’d read those photographs out of order, which meant the picture of them closer to the building actually came first. So… so they were loading up the delivery truck, not unloading it.
“Holy shit.”
Had Higgins actually caught them in the act of… well, I wasn’t sure exactly what, but obviously it was something shady.
First of all, why were they making deliveries—or pick-ups, as the case may be—in the middle of the night? That alone made no logical sense.
