private eyes are watching you

A few days ago, I got a mysterious package in the mail.  It was from Amazon, so I didn't feel nervous opening it.  (I guess that would be a good way to get me to open pretty much any package, provided it looked somewhat official.)  It was the book "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" by Rebecca Skloot.  Naturally, I was excited because I love books and I had wanted to read this book.  But it didn't come with any kind of note or indication who it was from.  I searched through it and even checked the package a couple of times to makes sure it was actually for me and I hadn't accidentally stolen something for one of my roommates.

First, I checked my Amazon account to make sure I didn't actually order it for myself.  I do that sometimes (as Scarlet can attest) - order something and then forget I did.  It makes for wonderful surprises later.  But, I hadn't ordered anything of the kind in the last six months at least.

I then asked my sister, Lydia, if she had sent it to me.  We had talked about the book in the past and how we'd both wanted to read it.  I didn't think she had my address, but at least two other siblings did, so it wouldn't be too hard for her to get it.  But she said it wasn't from her.

Next, I compiled a list of people who knew my new address.  (Maybe you think I'm a bit crazy, but I wanted to give thanks where thanks was due.) (And I wanted to make sure it wasn't sent by some creeper who now had my address.)  I searched in my gmail account and through my text messages (thanks, iPhone, for making that easy) and made a list of everyone who had my address.

I eliminated the ones who were obviously not responsible.  Leona, the sweet old lady from the assisted living center.  The HR lady from my last job, who needed to send me my last paycheck.  The werewolf, who hasn't talked to me much since he got engaged (and probably wouldn't do something like that anyway).  Uncle Keith, who just wouldn't.  Dulcinea, who still owes me a piece of art from the last service auction (I haven't forgotten!).

Of those left, the most likely culprit was Scout.  She and Mr. Scout had sent me a wonderful Valentine's day package (very thoughtful!) and it seemed like something she would do.  (She's science-y and well read.)  But she denied it.

I went through the rest of the list, starting with who I thought was the most likely working down.  But the Librarian, Scarlet, Big Brother, Jane, Jo March and Legolas all said they hadn't done it.  Well, now I was completely stumped.  I didn't think anyone else had my address, so maybe it really was the creeper!

But then I realized the classic detective mistake.  I'd overlooked someone.  I'd forgotten that I'd left my address for Scarlet on the refrigerator and during my moving out party, Lady MacBeth had copied it down.  I texed her and - score! - she and MacBeth had sent it.  She said they actually had ordered it to be sent with a gift note, but Amazon must have messed that one up.  Once she told me, I remembered that she'd said that she was going to send me something before I left, but I'd forgotten.  (Like I said - I always do.  It does make for some nice surprises later.)  (So, thanks very much, MacBeths!)

So, pretty much I'm going to start my own detective show.  I mean, with these skills of deduction, how could I not?  But it will probably be a British one because they always solve the case.  Just as soon as I finish my new book.