Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9) (13 page)

BOOK: Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9)
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Cara’s mouth twisted. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange? The break-in next door to Mason, then the break-in here last night? When was the last time
anyone
you know had a break-in?”

Leigh didn’t answer. The various problems affecting her various family members were complicated enough without her trying to artificially connect them all. What could a professional gambler running from loan sharks possibly have in common with her parents, other than a weak link to Mason Dublin? The Mason Dublin who was currently thousands of miles away sipping a mai tai and enjoying the ocean breeze? “Does your father gamble?” she asked instead.

“Gamble?” Cara repeated. “Maybe. He said something not too long ago about how he had been getting really good at Texas Hold’em, which didn’t surprise me. He’s whip-smart with numbers and you know he could lie his way out of anything. Why do you ask?”

Leigh’s eyes caught hers. “He just told me that Kyle is a professional poker player.”

Cara blinked back at her a moment. “Dad
has
had more money to spend lately,” she mused.

Leigh nodded.

Cara’s face flickered briefly with panic, but then just as quickly she drew in a breath and smiled. “Well, gambling on poker isn’t illegal,” she declared. “There’s no reason to assume… anything.”

“Of course not,” Leigh agreed hastily. She decided to change the subject. There was no point in distressing Cara with any more idle speculation — they would find out what Mason was up to soon enough. “How’s everything with my mother?”

“I just finished dusting the plastic sheeting in the dining room.”

“I did that already!” Leigh protested.

Cara cracked a grin. “Yes, but not
properly.
And I’ve vacuumed all the carpet downstairs and dusted all the furniture that’s not already covered.”

“She’ll see dust again by nightfall.”

“I’m sure,” Cara replied. “But by then, Aunt Bess will be on duty.”

The women exchanged a smirk. “When is your mother coming back?” Leigh asked.

Cara’s smirk turned into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Leigh asked, alarmed. “Isn’t the symposium supposed to end today?”

Cara nodded, then exhaled with a huff. “It ran Friday night to Wednesday, officially. But she was thinking of staying through this weekend, too. A bunch of her friends from the historical society were planning a sort of post-conference vacation. I get that. But when I told her about your parents both being off their feet, I was sure she’d head straight home after the last session. You know how much she likes to make herself useful, even indispensable, and this time she really
is
needed. None of us would have to stay overnight if she was at home next door, just a phone call — or even a shout — away. But a couple minutes ago I got a text saying not to expect her until Friday or Saturday.”

“Really?” Leigh asked with dread. Bess was staying overnight again tonight, but with no Lydie by Thursday, they would have to restart the rotation all over again.

“The text was a bit cryptic, but it sounds like her roommate Cynthia has family near there and really wanted to visit with them before heading home. I guess Mom doesn’t want to make her find another ride back, since they drove up together.”

“I see.” Leigh looked over Cara’s shoulder. “Lenna’s coming.”

Cara’s voice dropped. “It’s just strange, Leigh. I don’t want to think she’s lying to me. I really don’t. But God knows she’s done it before — all in the name of ‘protecting’ me. And I could absolutely
swear
she’s seeing someone romantically, and that she was looking forward to the conference so much because it meant they could spend more time together. But the only name she ever mentions—”

Cara’s eyes met Leigh’s with a startled expression. Neither woman said a word, but they knew they were both thinking the same, ridiculously impossible, yet somehow tantalizingly plausible thing.

Cynthia?

Lenna skipped up to the van. Leigh hit the button to slide open the side door. “Lenna,” she called out, “Before we go, could you grab Chewie’s leash and take him out on the grass?”

“Sure, Aunt Leigh,” Lenna agreed, reaching in and taking hold of the trailing leash. “Come on, Chewie boy!” She helped the short-legged dog down from the van and led him away into the center of the yard.

Cara lowered her voice to a whisper. “No. She was married! And she’s dated—” She broke off and bit a nail. “Hell, she’s hardly dated anybody. Not seriously, anyway. Is it possible?”

Leigh shrugged thoughtfully.

“But why would she hide it from me?” Cara asked, her tone showing her hurt.

Leigh shook her head. “Cara, your mom wouldn’t worry about you or me, or our husbands, and certainly not about the Pack. If she’s hiding something, it’s because she’s worried about—”

“Aunt Frances,” Cara breathed.

Leigh nodded. “Uh huh.”

Lenna bounced back to the van and lifted Chewie inside. “Aunt Leigh, Grandma Frances said to tell you that she needs empty banker’s boxes. And Mom, she said she’s pretty sure that the bird dust is spreading up the stairs and that somebody needs to ‘address the situation.’”

Cara and Leigh exchanged a look.

Godspeed,
Leigh smiled.

Chapter 12

“I was beginning to think I only imagined being married,” Leigh joked, enjoying her husband’s embrace. She hadn’t laid eyes on the man since he’d left for work Monday morning, but he’d surprised her by coming home in time for supper.

“Sorry,” Warren lamented. “The first two dinners were included in the seminar, so I couldn’t bail on them. And I need to be there for the evening sessions, even though I’m not leading them. But Wednesday evening was free time for everybody, so here I am.”

“How’s it going? Your cold seems better, at least,” Leigh inquired. She was proud of the work he’d been doing for nonprofits ever since getting out of the political game. Being President of the United States might have been his youthful aim, and he’d been well on his way after having being elected Chair of the County Council in his early thirties. But the lure of politics had faded after the twins were born. Despite Warren’s genius with both finances and schmoozing, he was at heart a family man.

“It’s all going very well,” he answered proudly. “The participants are certainly enthusiastic. And how about you? Are your parents managing all right? I see that Mason returned early.”

Leigh stepped back. “Mason? What do you mean?”

Warren blinked at her. “Well… the bird and the other cat are gone.”

Leigh exhaled with relief. She’d had enough surprises already today. “No, Mason’s still away. The cat is staying at the farm in Lenna’s room and my dad is taking care of the cockatiel at their house.”

The front door burst open to admit Ethan, whose face lit up immediately at the sight of his father. “Dad! You’re home! Can you make dinner tonight? Please?”

Leigh chuckled. She had long since gotten over being offended by remarks about her lack of cooking skills. What was her pride compared to being able to eat decent food? “Yes, Dad,” she said jokingly, releasing Warren. “Will you?”

“Only if this one helps me,” Warren negotiated, throwing his arm around his son and steering the boy toward the kitchen. No sooner were the two of them out of sight than Allison skipped through the front door. “Look, Mom!” she said excitedly. “We got two letters in the mail today at the clinic that I’m pretty sure are tips! Grandpa said not to open them yet, though. He wants you to check with Aunt Mo first.”

Leigh stared at the two envelopes in her daughter’s hands with misgiving. Having the clinic serve as a de facto crime stoppers unit had seemed like a good idea at the time. But for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure of, her uneasiness about having the kids involved was growing. “Just leave them on the table,” she instructed. “I’ll call your Aunt Mo in a bit.”

She had already tried to call Maura, twice, but the policewoman hadn’t answered — only texted that she was busy and they would talk later on.

Allison put the letters on the table. “The bird is
so
much better!” she gushed cheerfully. “He’s eating a lot more, and today he started to chirp and even whistle a bit! And he hasn’t picked at himself anymore, even without a collar. Can I run over to the farm and see Peep?”

Cara, who had been standing patiently by the doorway, flashed Leigh an unmistakable I-need-to-talk-to-you look.

“Sure,” Leigh replied to Allison. “I’ll call when it’s time for dinner.”

Allison banged out the back door and headed for the farmhouse at a jog. Ethan and Warren’s voices drifted in from the kitchen, along with the clanging of pots and pans. Leigh turned to her cousin with foreboding. “What is it?”

“Aunt Bess just brought your father back from the orthopedist,” Cara answered. “His ankle
is
broken. He’s doesn’t need surgery, but it’s in a cast, and he’s not supposed to put any weight on it. He’s also supposed to keep it elevated most of the time.”

“Oh, no,” Leigh murmured. “Can he work at all?”

“He insists he’s going to,” Cara reported. “But your mother has other ideas.”

“Oh, no,” Leigh repeated.

“That’s what I thought,” Cara agreed.

They shared an unspoken moment of sympathy for Bess.

“There’s something else, too,” Cara said, dropping her voice.

Leigh steadied herself. Having both of her parents with at least one foot non-weight-bearing for at least another week was bad enough. What else could have happened in half an afternoon?

“I heard something,” Cara declared, her expression anxious. “I was in the kitchen, and your mom was in the powder room. All the downstairs windows were open because she wanted a breeze, and I didn’t think anything about that. It was broad daylight, after all! But I think somebody might have been skulking around outside the house, because I heard a man’s cough. Twice.”

Leigh froze. “What kind of cough?”

“Like a smoker’s cough,” Cara answered. “You know, hacking. I ran through the house and looked out every window, but whoever it was had either taken off or was hiding somewhere I couldn’t see. I convinced myself it must have come from the sidewalk or a neighbor’s window, but then I heard it again, when I was upstairs. I didn’t see anything the second time either, but it just sounded so close!” Cara’s forehead creased with distress. “I closed and locked all the windows and I told Bess about it when she got there, but I didn’t want to worry your parents. They have enough on their minds right now and, well, maybe I was just overreacting.”

“I doubt it,” Leigh said weakly. “I thought I heard the same thing. Last night. Both before and after I saw the guy at the window.”

The women stared at one another.

Cara sucked in a determined breath. “I’ll call Bess and tell her that if she or your parents hear
anything,
they should call the police right away. They should leave all the lights on after dark, and I’ll talk to Gil about hiring a security guard to send over there.”

Leigh nodded.

Cara turned and walked back out, and Leigh picked up her phone. This time, Maura actually answered.

“Hey, Koslow,” the detective’s deep voice boomed. “Sorry to put you off, but I’ve been on the horn a lot this afternoon and Eddie’s been a real crank. There hasn’t been any more trouble at your end, has there?”

“I’m not sure,” Leigh answered. She took a deep breath, then launched into a long explanation of the break-in at her parents’ house last night and how Cara had heard similar, mysterious coughs again this afternoon.

“That is disturbing,” Maura agreed. “How about I give the Ross Township police a call? They can put a cruiser on it. If anybody’s casing the place, seeing those flashing lights sweep by at random intervals should be discouraging.”

“That would be fabulous,” Leigh said, relieved. “Thanks.” She sank down on her couch and exhaled. Mao Tse hopped onto her lap.

“Look, Koslow,” Maura continued. “I talked to Mason. He says you’ve got Kyle Claymore’s pets.”

“Is that a problem?” Leigh asked anxiously.

“I hope not.” The policewoman’s tone was anything but comforting.

“Will you tell me what’s going on, please?” Leigh begged. “Mason told me Kyle split because loan sharks were after him, but that so long as no one knew I had the pets, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Maura blew out a breath. “Mr. Claymore’s problems are bigger than loan sharks, I’m afraid.”

Leigh’s heart pounded. “Such as?”

The policewoman hesitated. “Kyle was last seen up in Erie Saturday night at a high-stakes poker game. Not the legal kind. Shots were fired; a man was killed. Kyle hasn’t been seen since.”

“I see,” Leigh mumbled. The cat on her stomach was purring loudly, but Leigh’s whole body felt cold.

“Monday morning, before dawn, Mason took off as well,” Maura continued. “Then just a few hours later, Kyle’s apartment was broken into. Mason and Kyle were known to be associated; they played poker in some of the same circles. You see the problem?”

“But Mason wasn’t in Erie Saturday night. Was he?” Leigh squeaked.

“No, he wasn’t. Thank God,” Maura replied sincerely. “And we have no reason to believe he’s done any illegal gambling himself. Although he does seem to be on quite a tear with the casino variety.”

Leigh’s eyebrows perked. “Really?”

“Really.” Maura exhaled again. “Listen, Koslow. I don’t think Mason was aware of the shooting up in Erie until I talked to him, and I don’t think he knows where Kyle is now. But that’s pure instinct talking, and I happen to like the guy. An unbiased investigator is going to find Mason’s story harder to swallow. He
looks
like he’s in this up to his neck. And with him skipping town and stashing those animals at your place—”

“I don’t have them anymore,” Leigh admitted. “Not technically. Not here at the house.”

“Where are they?” Maura demanded.

Leigh explained. “But it shouldn’t matter. I mean, no one knows where they are, either way. Do you think I should let the Bellevue police know about the cockatiel? Mason says he has no idea who Kyle was keeping it for.”

BOOK: Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9)
7.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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