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

by Edie Claire

  Mason was quiet a moment. Leigh jumped back in. “Now you tell me why you’re in Miami. And why I’m not supposed to tell anyone where these animals came from.”

  “I’m not in Miami,” he said absently.

  “Caller ID says you are,” Leigh retorted.

  “Oh,” he replied. “I guess that makes sense. Did Maura say why the state police want to question Kyle?”

  “Mason!” Leigh said sharply. “I told you everything I know. Now answer my questions!”

  He sighed. “Kyle was afraid he might have to leave town on short notice. He’s a professional poker player, but he’s had a string of bad luck, and he’s in deep with a couple of loan sharks. Last I heard he had a game up in Erie Saturday night — hoped his luck would change. I don’t know what happened, but I’m guessing it didn’t go well and now somebody’s threatening him. All I meant about the pets is — well, some of those guys will use anything to get to a man. Kyle’s crazy about that cat, so it’s just as well that nobody knows you’ve got it. You get what I’m saying?”

  “I get it,” Leigh said heavily.

  “I’ll call Maura,” he promised. “And the state trooper, whoever he is. Sorry to get you involved in all this, kid. But you really don’t need to worry about it. Kyle will come back when he’s ready. And the first thing he’ll do is look me up, wondering where the hell his cat is.”

  “What about the bird?” Leigh demanded.

  “I told you, I don’t know jack about the bird. I’ve got to go. I’m spending a fortune, here.”

  “Why is this costing you so much?” Leigh pleaded, fearing he would hang up at any second. “And why did Maura ask me if you’d taken up gambling?”

  There was another pause. “I’ll call her right now. Take care, kid.”

  “Mason!” she protested. But he had already hung up.

  Leigh tossed her phone down on the couch. How could the man be so damned charming and yet so infuriating at the same time? Actually, at the moment he was just infuriating. Why wouldn’t he tell her where he was and what he was doing? Didn’t she deserve that much for taking care of his blasted friend’s cat and his blasted friend’s blasted friend’s bird?

  She wondered, suddenly, if the bird’s mysterious owner were as frantic to locate Kyle as the police were. Unless Kyle had explained the whole situation when he took in the cockatiel, that person would have no way of knowing that Mason had intervened.

  Fabulous.

  Should she let the Bellevue police know that she had Kyle’s pets? If the cockatiel’s owner came back to claim him, he or she would find Kyle’s apartment empty. If they couldn’t contact Kyle by phone either, what would they think? Would they hear about the break-in? Might they worry that their bird had been the victim of the pet snatcher, too?

  Her tired mind reeled. Aside from Lucky in Avalon, she didn’t know where the petnapper’s other victims had come from. But the clinic saw clients from all the neighboring boroughs, and everyone seemed to have heard the rumors. It was possible that the poor bird’s owner had already called the Bellevue police, trying to find him. But the police wouldn’t have any idea what had happened to the bird. Unless Mason happened to volunteer that information during their chat on Monday.

  Leigh scoffed. As if.

  She dropped her head back down on the couch. Now she was stuck. She knew it was the right thing to do to let the police know she had Kyle’s pets. But there was no way that doing so wouldn’t draw her — and now her entire household — even deeper into Mason Dublin’s mess.

  Darn the man!

  And he had the nerve to whine to her about his calls being expensive! Where the hell was he roaming, anyway?

  I’m not in Miami.

  Leigh sat up again. She looked at the number he’d just called from and copied it into her browser. She didn’t think a reverse search was likely to turn up a private listing. However…

  “Aha!” she crowed, swinging her feet onto the floor and startling the sleeping corgi. She had gotten a hit on the number. It was listed on a website where people complained about calls from telemarketers. But this number didn’t come from a sales outfit. It came from a relay center for cell phone calls bouncing off a satellite… over the ocean.

  “A cruise ship!” Leigh said out loud, her face reddening. “I’m stuck here in Pittsburgh cleaning cat urine off my laminate, and he’s gambling on a cruise ship?!”

  She stewed. Why on earth could the man not just tell her that? And why had he lied to Cara about where he was going?

  She stewed some more. Then, very slowly, her ire diminished. Mason knew she hadn’t believed he was in Las Vegas. He also had to know she could check the number, if she had half a brain. And all of that was before he even knew the police wanted to question him. She had to wonder if, at some level, he wanted her to know where he was.

  Was this just another gambling junket, or was he with a woman? Someone he wasn’t quite ready to tell Cara about? Or rather, the kind of woman no father would ever want to tell his daughter about?

  It was possible. He had certainly seemed chipper for a man headed to the airport at four thirty on a Monday morning.

  Leigh sighed. She had no desire to plumb the depths of Mason’s personal life. Having a nefarious paramour was better than running from the law.

  She slipped her shoes back on. The nap wasn’t happening. She might as well power through until sunset. She would wait another hour, then call Maura. By then the detective would have talked to Mason herself. If the Bellevue police needed to know about the bird, Maura could relay the message. Kyle’s animals were in danger — theoretically — from loan sharks. Not the police.

  She stood and stretched. Chewie rose and looked at her hopefully.

  Feed me?

  Leigh’s cell phone rang again. It was Cara.

  “Hi, Leigh,” her cousin greeted. “You’re not still around West View by any chance, are you?”

  “I’m home now. Why?”

  “Dang. I should have called sooner. Never mind.”

  Leigh yawned again. Ten to one odds she would soon be fetching her car keys. “Just tell me what you need,” she said tiredly. “There’s no way I’m getting any work done this afternoon anyway.”

  “I was wondering, if you were going to be home the rest of the day, if you might take Lenna back with you and drop her off at the farm. She’s driving me crazy fretting over that cat, and she’s being a complete ninny about the bird. She’s afraid to go anywhere near it — she’s just been sitting in the kitchen looking teary and sighing every other second.”

  “I’ll come get her,” Leigh said, pulling on her shoes. “I need to talk to you anyway. Outside, maybe.”

  “Gotcha,” Cara replied. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  Twenty minutes later, Leigh pulled the van up to the curb outside her parents’ house. Cara popped immediately out the front door and came to meet her. Leigh rolled down the windows and invited her cousin to have a seat. It was a gorgeous, cool day — unusually cool for Pittsburgh in July.

  “Well, hey there, Chewie,” Cara greeted as she closed the van door behind her. The corgi made no response. As soon as the van stopped moving, he had hastened to the back to lick any available crumbs out of the seat wells. Cara turned to Leigh. “You’ve heard from my dad, haven’t you?”

  Leigh nodded. “I still don’t know what’s going on with his neighbor Kyle, but apparently Maura does, and she wants to talk to him about it. He said he’s going to call her.”

  Cara’s eyes widened. “What does Maura have to do with the break-in at Kyle’s? She works homicide!”

  Leigh considered a moment, feeling like an idiot. She tended to assume that Maura could and did hear about all sorts of crimes… but why would her co-worker “catch her up” on a case that wasn’t a homicide?

  Holy crap.

  “I don’t know,” Leigh answered weakly. “But I’m going to call her later and find out, I promise you.”

  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 ans
wered — 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.”