Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9) Page 4

  “Grandpa says he’ll be another half hour or so,” the girl reported. “He’s sorry he didn’t think to call and warn you he was running late.”

  “No problem,” Leigh replied, noting the keen sparkle in her daughter’s dark brown eyes. “You found out something, didn’t you?”

  Allison nodded, casting a wary glance behind her.

  Leigh noted the irony.

  “We shouldn’t talk about it here,” the girl continued. “But… could we maybe walk up to Aunt Mo’s real quick? While Grandpa’s finishing up? Paige will stay in the room with him.”

  Leigh felt a pang of anxiety. Allison’s “Aunt Mo” wasn’t a blood relative, but one of Leigh’s best friends from college, who was now a detective with the homicide division of the Allegheny County police force. And although it was unlikely that Allison was concerned about a homicide, at least on this particular day, her determination to talk to Maura Polanski indicated worse trouble than a few idle rumors.

  “Sure,” Leigh said nervously. She let her father know where they were going and told him to call her cell when he was ready to leave. Then she and Allison headed out and began their walk up the steep cobblestone street. The Polanski duplex was only a short distance away, and Leigh resisted the urge to pump Allison for information before they got there. The girl seemed unusually quiet and thoughtful, which only made Leigh more anxious, and by the time they reached Maura’s front porch she felt near to exploding.

  Luckily, the detective was at home.

  “Koslow! Allie!” Maura boomed enthusiastically, swinging open the door. “What brings you by?”

  Leigh cracked a grin. It was difficult not to. Although she had never personally feared her loud, large, and looming policewoman friend — at least not that much — Maura had a longstanding reputation for being able to effectively intimidate perpetrators of either gender. To see her now dressed in a tee shirt and shorts, wearing a bright yellow baby carrier covered with green lizards that held her 11-week-old son sticking out from her middle face-forward and drooling, was really just too cute.

  “Hey there, little Eddie!” Allison greeted, reaching up to slip a finger into the baby’s tiny hand. The infant grasped it and turned his head toward hers with a sloppy grin.

  “See there!” Maura said gleefully, looking at Leigh. “I told you he smiles at people!”

  Leigh leaned toward the baby, holding out her own hand. “How are you doing, little guy?” she cooed.

  The baby swung his head slowly toward her. His pretty blue eyes locked on hers, and his grin disappeared.

  Allison giggled. “What did you do to him, Mom?”

  “Nothing!” Leigh said miserably. The baby continued to stare at her, his tiny face screwed up into a critical scowl. “He’s judging me again,” she lamented.

  Maura chuckled. “Stop being so dramatic, Koslow. I repeat, what brings you guys by?” She stepped back and waved them inside, and all three took seats in the cozy living room. Maura settled into her recliner, crossing her arms underneath little Eddie and giving him an occasional bounce.

  “There’s something weird going on at the animal clinic,” Leigh replied, trying not to sound in the least dramatic. “Allison’s picked up on some things and she wants to run them by you.”

  “Excellent! I’d love to hear it.” Maura turned to Leigh. “Nothing against motherhood, but after two months of limited-duty bedrest and three months of family leave, I’m bored out of my mind. Nobody at work will tell me jack about what’s going on. Apparently there’s a betting pool laying odds on whether I’ll actually go back to work next week, and the ones betting against it don’t want me in the loop. They’re about to lose their shirts.” She turned back to Allison. “Proceed.”

  The girl sat forward. “Well, for the last couple weeks, Grandpa’s been getting more and more questions about tracking devices for pets. Everybody seems worried about their pet getting lost, all at the same time. The funny thing is, it’s not just the pets you’d think people would worry about running away. Some are really old dogs and super-fat indoor cats — you know, the kind that never go anywhere except to the vet anyway.”

  “Interesting,” Maura remarked. Little Eddie’s gaze was also locked on Allison, and Leigh fought a grin as both mother and son’s brows furrowed simultaneously.

  “Grandpa didn’t really think much about it,” Allison continued. “But there’s definitely something going on. When he does ask people why they want to know, they don’t say anything that makes sense. And they won’t talk to the staff, either. But the clients are muttering to each other all over the place. They’re scared. All day long in the clinic, everywhere I listened, I heard the same kind of thing. ‘Have you heard?’ ‘Someone should say something!’ ‘Well, who’s going to do it? How can you take that risk?’ One client said, ‘I’m not sure I believe it,’ and the other said, ‘Well, it happened just a block away from me!’ But when the second person asked who, the first person wouldn’t answer. Said they didn’t know, really. That no one wanted to say.”

  “I see,” Maura said thoughtfully. “So what are you thinking, Allie?”

  The girl squared her thin shoulders. “I think there’s a rumor going around that pets are disappearing. But no one knows exactly which ones. And they’re all scared that if they talk to someone in authority about it, something bad is going to happen. Like maybe their pet will disappear next.”

  Leigh tried to wrap her mind around the thought. “If that is the rumor, there couldn’t possibly be any truth to it. Dad hasn’t mentioned any pets going missing. And why would anyone want to snatch old poodles and obese housecats?”

  She considered the more horrifying possibilities without listing them out loud. She knew that it wasn’t unheard of for dog fighters to use cats and small dogs as training bait, and dealers still sold unwanted animals for laboratory research. But there had to be easier ways to obtain animals than to snatch cosseted pets from the North Boros!

  Maura put a hand to her chin. “Other than young purebreds, stealing pet animals for resale wouldn’t make sense, no,” she agreed. “The financial gain, if any, wouldn’t justify the risk. Unless…”

  The three of them exchanged looks. It was clear they were all thinking the same, seemingly preposterous thing.

  “Ransom,” Leigh murmured breathlessly. “A well-loved pet could be kidnapped and returned for a price.” She turned to Maura. “Have you ever heard of such a thing before?”

  The detective’s lips twisted. “It happens,” she answered. “But I’m not aware of anything local. Or large-scale. It would still be a very risky business.”

  “But it makes sense!” Allison piped up. “What if a few animals were petnapped — even one or two — and the owners were instructed to pay up and not say anything to the police? If they followed the instructions and did get their animal back okay, they wouldn’t want to report it. But still, they probably couldn’t resist telling somebody something.”

  Maura nodded at Leigh. “She’s right, you know. It’s pretty typical for kidnappers to threaten the victim’s family, not just with hurting whoever they’re holding for ransom at the moment, but with doing the same thing again — or worse — if the family squeals after the fact. In this case, the victims might be afraid to talk to the police, or to anyone they perceive to be in authority. But they’d be tempted to warn friends and neighbors to keep their pets close, without admitting that anything had happened to them personally.”

  “So,” Leigh said unhappily, “there could be some truth behind all this.”

  Maura nodded. “Or none at all.”

  Baby Eddie burped. He was staring at Leigh again, his gaze critical.

  “There’s not a soul around here, or associated with the clinic, who doesn’t know by now that I’m a cop,” Maura continued. “So if they’re really afraid, I’m the last person they’d level with.”

  Leigh had to agree. Maura had grown up in Avalon as the daughter of the borough’s longtime and highly revered po
lice chief, the late Edward Polanski. No local who feared being taken for a squealer would want to be seen anywhere near her. “That would explain why no one wants to talk to my dad, either,” Leigh mused. “They’d figure he would just call the police, and they’d be right. He would. And any of the staff would tell my dad.”

  “No one would talk to me, either,” Allison lamented. “I’ve been hanging around the clinic forever, so they all know who I am.”

  “But if the threat is real,” Maura proposed, “people certainly will want the perpetrators caught. We just need to create a way for people to report what they know anonymously.”

  “Snail mail!” Leigh suggested. “We can post signs at the reception desk, telling people to mail tips to the clinic. No return address needed, no questions asked.”

  “Good idea,” Maura confirmed. “Send whatever you get to me, and if it looks like there’s any real basis to it, I’ll get the local force to look into it.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mo!” Allison said with a smile. “I knew you’d know what to do!”

  Maura looked thoughtful again. “I can’t guarantee how much of a priority it would be for the Avalon PD. But hey — I’ve got another week of maternity leave. We’ll see what shakes out.”

  Leigh’s phone rang, and she answered it. Her father was ready to go home. Maura rose and walked Leigh and Allison to the door while a pensive Eddie continued staring at Leigh without humor. “Why do I get the feeling that as soon as this child can talk,” Leigh mused, “he’s going to start telling you all my deepest and darkest secrets?”

  Maura shrugged. “Boring. I already know them.”

  Eddie hiccupped.

  “Mom!” Allison chastised with a laugh. “You are so paranoid! He’s just a baby.” She played with his hand again. “Bye bye, little Eddie!”

  The baby gurgled and gave the girl another toothless smile.

  “Bye!” Leigh echoed.

  The infant turned to stare at her again. His smile disappeared.

  Maura chuckled. “You know, Koslow, you do look a bit scary today. What did you do to her supreme evilness this time, buy the wrong brand of shrimp in aspic?”

  Leigh put a hand to her cheek. The scratch still smarted.

  “Long story,” she said dismissively.

  She could only hope it wouldn’t get much longer.

  Chapter 5

  Leigh could hear Bess and Frances arguing even before she popped open the front door for her father.

  “Lydie doesn’t tell you everything!” Bess scoffed.

  “Of course she does!” Frances shot back. “We’re twins! We’ve always shared everything. I couldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “Well, then, Miss Know-it-all,” Bess insisted. “Who is she seeing?”

  Leigh stopped in her tracks, remaining quiet as her father slowly moved forward on his crutches. It sounded like the women were sitting at the kitchen table, just out of sight. Cara had been obsessing for months because she was convinced that her mother was dating someone, but Lydie flat-out refused to discuss it, either with her daughter or, as far as either of them knew, with her sister Bess. They suspected that Frances knew, but getting sensitive information out of either twin had always been difficult.

  “She isn’t seeing anyone!” Frances insisted.

  “Hogswaddle!” Bess argued. “You’re just annoyed because she won’t tell you who it is, either! Twins share everything, indeed.”

  “She did so tell me!” Frances shot back indignantly.

  Leigh smirked. Her Aunt Bess was good. If only her father didn’t make too much noise coming in the door…

  “I don’t believe you,” Bess baited.

  Frances humphed with annoyance. “It’s only Cole Harbison again,” she snapped. “And it’s not serious this time, either. Lydie just enjoys his company. There’s nothing improper going on, but she doesn’t want Cara thinking—”

  “Improper?” Bess chortled with laughter. “Improper? Lydie’s a middle-aged divorcee! She can do whatever she darn well pleases! You want to hear something improper, just listen to—”

  Randall cleared his throat loudly.

  Leigh threw him an annoyed look, but he merely raised his eyebrows at her, and with Allison standing directly behind him on the porch Leigh could hardly complain about his wrecking her eavesdropping.

  “We’re home,” Randall called out.

  The kitchen went silent.

  After a moment, Bess popped out. “Well, come on in and have a seat,” she told him pleasantly. “I’ve got dinner all heated up and ready to go.”

  Randall hobbled past her and on into the kitchen, and Bess shot a mischievous look at Leigh. “You two can go on home,” she told Leigh and Allison cheerfully. “Everything here will be just fine. I’ve proposed a gin rummy tournament tonight, and I intend to clean your father’s clock.”

  From the kitchen, they heard Randall chuckle. “You just keep talking, Bess.”

  Leigh smiled. Her parents were clearly in good hands. She thanked her aunt, collected her daughter — who gave no sign of having overheard anything, although with Allison that didn’t mean much — and drove back home.

  They walked from the garage into the basement to find Peep the cat curled up in another tight ball in the center of the bean bag. “Aw… she’s so cute!” Allison exclaimed. But when the girl approached, the cat jumped off the bag and scuttled underneath the television stand. “She’s pretty shy,” Allison admitted. “But she really took to Lenna earlier. You should have seen them.”

  A loud complaint from another feline issued from the top of the stairs. Leigh headed up to console Mao Tse, but had only taken three steps when her nose wrinkled.

  Oh, no.

  Allison sniffed, too. “Uh oh. Is that what I think it is?”

  Leigh sighed heavily. “Evidence of her imperial majesty’s displeasure, you mean?”

  Allison giggled, then held her nose. “Oh, that stinks. Where do you think she did it?”

  Oh, please, anywhere but the upholstered furniture, Leigh thought miserably, trudging up the rest of the stairs. Or the beds…

  Half an hour, a roll of paper towels, and many squirts of odor neutralizer later, Leigh dropped into one of the kitchen chairs at her cousin’s farmhouse next door. She was more than ready to call her Monday officially at an end. “It’s like the cat drank all the water in both her bowls just to stock up for the occasion,” she finished complaining to Cara. “You’d think laminate would be okay, wouldn’t you? But the puddle by the basement door soaked into the grooves and now the planks are uneven!” She dropped her forehead onto the table. Her voice turned grim. “Your father so owes me.”

  Cara chuckled. “He certainly does. I guess Mao Tse isn’t used to smelling another cat around.”

  “No, she is not,” Leigh lamented. She raised her head. “Look, Cara. Is there any way Lenna could keep Peep over here? We can deal with the bird, but Mao’s old, and it’s not like she’s ever been a fan of change. Every time we’ve moved, we’ve lost at least one piece of furniture. Allison said Lenna likes Peep, and it would really help me out.” She favored her cousin with her best pathetic look. “Gil won’t mind. Provided nobody tells him. Right?”

  Cara, who was busy setting her kitchen table, rolled her eyes with a smile. “I’m not convinced he even is allergic. He said he broke out in hives once when he was ten, but I think he just doesn’t like cats. As many times as he’s been over at your house, he’s never sneezed once. Sure. Lenna can keep the cat in her room. We’ll see if he notices.”

  They heard a shrill feminine shriek, quickly muffled.

  Cara stepped over and swung open the doors to the dining room, revealing the expected two eleven-year-old girls.

  Allison smiled innocently and removed her hand from over her second cousin’s mouth.

  “Can I really, Mom?” Lenna squealed immediately, her pretty blue eyes practically teary. “Can I really keep Peep in my room?”

  “Yes, you may,” Cara
answered, even as her tone expressed her displeasure. “But we’re about to eat, so you’ll have to wait till after dinner to bring her over.”

  The girls squealed together and whirled away.

  “They’re only going to get better at it, you know,” Leigh lamented.

  “Maybe we should learn sign language,” Cara quipped, stepping back to the stove.

  “Speaking of eavesdropping…” Leigh rose and went to stand close beside her cousin. She lowered her voice to barely audible and relayed the conversation she’d overheard between Bess and Frances.

  Cara shook her head at once. “No. I don’t believe it. Your mother probably does know who my mother is seeing, but it’s not Cole Harbison.”

  Leigh cocked an eyebrow. She knew her cousin had nothing against the kindly history buff who had enjoyed Lydie’s company for much of the last decade. Whether the two were just friends or more than friends had never been entirely clear, and Leigh had gone back and forth on the question more than once, as had Cara. But Lydie always insisted the relationship was platonic, even as Cara assured her mother that she would be fine with them as a couple. Cole was a nice enough man, even if he was significantly older than Lydie. The only weird thing about a romantic relationship between them, if there was one, was why they would bother hiding it in the first place. “How do you know for sure?” Leigh asked.

  Cara blew out a breath. “He’s engaged. To another woman from his church. I heard about it through a mutual friend, and Mom confirmed it. She said she’s happy for him.”

  “Oh,” Leigh remarked. “Well, I guess that settles it. It’s just that…” Her brow furrowed.

  “What?” Cara asked.

  “It’s just that I didn’t think my mother was lying. Usually I can tell. Or at least I can tell that she’s covering something up. When she said it was Cole Harbison, I believed her. And I thought Bess did, too.”

  The women exchanged a look.