Chapter 4—Deduction

The thing underneath the cloth looked out at the Scorpion family as seven pairs of eyes stared back at it. It cocked its head and blinked curiously.

"It's…" Cabe began.

"Serinus canaria. Most likely serinus canaria domestica," Walter said, stepping closer to examine the bird. The bird was small but beautiful, its plumage a stunning gold color which faded to white-tipped wings and tail. It looked healthy, Walter noted.

"It's a canary," said Paige.

"It's Tweety," said Ralph simply, pointing to the words engraved on a tag dangling from the bird's foot.

"It's…mine?" said Sylvester.

"That's what the note says."

Everyone turned to watch Sylvester, and anyone who knew him well could almost predict the succession of emotions he would undergo:

Confusion: "The bird's mine?"

Realization: "The bird's mine."

Elation: "The bird's mine!

More elation: "This is truly the best day of my life. I've never had my own pet before. I'm going to take such good care of it. We're going to be the best of friends. I'm going to feed it every day and talk to it and read it poetry, and maybe teach it to sing!"

Here, Happy intervened. "Um, I think the note said that it was a 'she' and most female canaries don't sing."

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to love it anyway. I'm going to take it home with me and set up a special perch for it. Then I can calculate when's the best time to feed it and how much it should eat. Then I can run statistics on the average growth rates of canaries so I can always be sure I'm not overfeeding it or underfeeding it, and…and…and…" Here Sylvester stopped to take a breath. Then his eyes widened in horror, his jaw dropped, and everyone could suddenly see what was coming: the anxiety attack.

"Wait a minute, I don't know the first thing about taking care of Tweety. I've never had pets before. I can't even remember to feed myself, let alone feed a bird. What if I feed it the wrong thing? What if I'm too scared to clean up its cage? What if someone breaks in and steals it? What if—?"

Here, Sylvester was cut short by an unexpected touch on his hand.

"I'll help you take care of it, if you want," said Ralph quietly. He had put his hand into Sylvester's and was looking up at him with earnest, compassionate eyes. "I'm learning about how to take care of animals at school and we could look for books and help on the internet, too."

Everyone turned to look at the two, taking in the scene as a young boy offered his aid to calm his anxious friend. Paige's heart melted to see such kindness in her usually shy and quiet son. He really was a good person, like all of the other geniuses at Scorpion. Even if he had trouble processing his feelings, he still found ways to express to people that he cared about them.

Sylvester calmed down greatly. "Thanks a lot, buddy. I would really like that," he said, smiling down at Ralph.

"Well, that completes the last of the inventory," broke in Walter. He returned to the table with all of the gifts laid out on them. "So here we have blueprints, sunglasses, a hat, a dress, motorcycle boots, and a live bird," said Walter. "The thing that puzzles me is how they got all of this in here and especially how they sneaked in a live bird without anyone noticing until now."

"Maybe it was asleep this whole time?" suggested Toby.

"Maybe, but that still doesn't explain the rest of it," Walter said. He turned to the group. "When was the last time anyone was here?" he asked, looking from one member of the cyclone to another.

"I left early on Friday to pick up Ralph and take him to the dentist," said Paige. "I haven't been back since."

"Anyone else?" Walter asked, looking around at them.

"Let's see, Saturday was the last time I was here," said Toby. "I just came by to drop off food for Happy because I knew that she would be here working on her motorcycle all day and would forget to eat."

Happy made what sounded like an irritated growling noise at the back of her throat, but only said, "Yeah, Saturday was the last day I was here, too."

"When did you leave?"

"Around 9 pm, much earlier than I wanted to, because somebody stopped by again and insisted that I eat some dinner," she said in the same irritated tone.

"That someone would be me," said Toby.

"We guessed as much," said Cabe.

"Sylvester?" Walter asked.

"I left Friday, too, late at night. It was the midnight release of the Super Fun Guy, first-edition, limited-run comic. I haven't been back since."

"Hmmm," said Walter. "I left on Friday to see my sister and then I came back here on Sunday morning to run some experiments with Cabe, Jr."

"Then I called and asked if you could update some security software as a favor for a friend," said Cabe.

"That you did."

"And we left around noon and didn't come back."

"That being deduced, the last ones to leave here were Cabe and I," said Walter, his dark eyes intense as the cogs in his brain turned their well-run machinery. "I didn't notice anything amiss when I left Sunday, and I definitely locked the place."

"Who was the first one here this morning?" asked Paige.

"Me," said Happy. "I came here and the door was still locked. I went straight to my workshop to gather my tools when I remembered that I left my tool kit near the docking area. When I passed by my desk to get it, I found the box."

"That's when I came in," said Sylvester.

"And found a box on your desk."

"Yes, I was in the middle of scanning mine and Happy's when I heard her yelling at someone."

"Again, that someone would be me," said Toby.

"We guessed that," everyone said together.

"And none of you sensed something off when you came in?"

"No, not until we saw the boxes."

"Then that only leaves a few suspects."

"Well, the obvious person would be Paige," said Toby. "She was the one who suggested Secret Santa in the first place."

Everyone looked to Paige.

"Oh, no, it definitely wasn't me," Paige said, holding up her hands. "I've been away the longest out of all of us, and besides, I got a box, too."

"Yes, to throw suspicion off of yourself," said Toby.