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

by Edie Claire

  “How long will you be gone?” Allison asked.

  Leigh’s feeling of disquiet niggled again. “I have to get Grandpa to the clinic in time for his shift, then I’ll be staying with Grandma until whenever your Grandma Lydie comes home. You two want to come over there with me?”

  Both kids shook their heads. “No. We’re good,” Allison answered.

  “Your dad will probably beat me home,” Leigh continued. “His conference ends today.”

  “No problem. We’ll be fine,” Allison assured in the super-mature tone that, paradoxically, always made Leigh more nervous. At nearly twelve, the twins were perfectly capable of entertaining themselves on a nice summer day with their uncle right next door.

  But still.

  Leigh continued to battle an unpleasant mixture of guilt and nervousness as she drove herself back down to West View to collect her father. She had no choice but to hang out at her mother’s house today. Cara was out of commission and Bess had stayed over three nights already. Frances was doing better with the walker and could scuffle about on her heels without too much discomfort, but she still needed someone within shouting distance. And after his shift at the clinic today was over, so would Randall.

  She arrived at her parents’ house to find Randall ready and waiting on the front porch. He said nothing about his haste, but Leigh could hear Frances muttering to herself in the living room about imprudent behavior, and a quick peek revealed Bess, still in her kimono, passed out on the couch with her mouth open.

  Leigh chose not to go inside.

  She delivered her father to the clinic and settled him on his preferred stool. There were no regular surgeries on Fridays, and with only two vets working and none of the teens hanging around, the practice seemed eerily quiet. Dr. Koslow was early, and his first patient had not yet arrived. The silence was eventually broken by the ring of the office phone, followed by Amy popping open the connecting door to the waiting room.

  “Dr. Koslow?” she chirped, her freckled face looking confused. “Birds get rabies, don’t they? I mean, I’ve never heard of a bird getting rabies, but I’ve heard of bats getting rabies, and bats are birds, right?”

  The veterinarian’s shoulders slumped. “No, Amy. Bats are mammals. Only mammals get rabies, not birds.”

  The receptionist’s vacuous eyes widened with alarm. “Uh oh. I told him birds get rabies. Because bats are birds.”

  “Do you know why the person was asking?” Randall inquired.

  Amy shook her head. “I’ll check.” She turned toward the waiting room, then whirled back again. “Should I tell him bats aren’t birds?”

  Randall sighed. “Yes. And then ask whomever it is if he needs to talk to me. I’m perfectly free at the moment.”

  Leigh knew she probably shouldn’t, but she mentally struck Amy’s name off her suspect list. The girl just wasn’t smart enough to be an extortionist. Gullible enough to take advantage of, maybe, but far too likely to accidentally screw things up. Orchestrating a series of petnappings didn’t necessarily require criminal genius, but there had to be a decent brain operating somewhere in the mix.

  Amy burst back into the room. “He said he’s going to walk over!”

  Randall blinked at her. “Who is?”

  “The policeman! He said it all happened just down the street!”

  Leigh and her father exchanged a glance. “What happened?” Leigh demanded.

  Amy pressed her face against the window a moment, but drew back disappointed. “I can’t see anything. It happened just down the street, the policeman said!”

  “What—” Randall began.

  “This woman got attacked by a bird!” Amy reported. “Like it just flew at her for no reason, like it had rabies or something! But birds don’t get rabies, right?”

  They could get no more information from the receptionist. She flitted back and forth between the lobby and the exam room repeating herself in an endless loop until a uniformed officer with the Avalon police stepped through the front door.

  “Oh, come on back here!” Amy twittered, leading him to the exam room. “Dr. Koslow’s right back here!”

  The officer walked in, and Leigh pointedly shut the door behind him. Thanks goodness no clients had arrived yet.

  “Is there a problem, Russell?” Randall asked mildly.

  The policeman gave his head a shake. “It’s a weird one, Doc, I got to tell you. Ms. Adams, up on Jackman, says she looked outside earlier and saw a huge bird on the ground under her bird feeder — some kind of bird she’d never seen before. She said it had blood on it, and she figured it must be injured, so she went outside to see if there was anything she could do for it. Well, then she says she got about four or five away and the thing just lunged at her. Came at her with its beak snapping, looking to fight. Didn’t break the skin or anything, but scared her near to death. She went back in and called us, but wherever it went to, we can’t find it now.” He shook his head again, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I never heard of anything like it. If we shoot the thing, you want to take a look at it?”

  Randall stood up on his good foot. “Did she tell you what the bird looked like?”

  The officer shrugged. “She just said it was white. And really big. One of the guys thought maybe it was an egret.”

  Leigh’s heart pounded in her chest. She caught her father’s eye.

  Zeus!

  “Don’t shoot it,” Randall ordered. “It may be somebody’s pet bird that’s escaped. That would explain why it wasn’t afraid of the woman. If it’s upset, it could very well attack again.” He looked down at his cast with a grimace of annoyance. Then he hobbled over and punched a button on the intercom. “Morgan? Can you come up here?”

  “You think it could belong to that woman up in Ben Avon? The one with the aviary?” the policeman suggested. “Or maybe it was stolen?”

  “Maybe,” Randall said noncommittally. Leigh was heartened to know that the officer was aware of the petnappings, even if he had not yet gotten word of the perp’s latest conquest. She couldn’t remember exactly where Olan lived, but most likely, it was in another jurisdiction.

  “You should check in with Maura Polanski,” Randall suggested. “Tell her I said that this could be the bird that was stolen from McKees Rocks last night.”

  The officer turned to speak into his radio.

  “Should I call Olan?” Leigh whispered. It was only a chance, but it seemed like a pretty darn good one. If Zeus had indeed escaped from his captors, the rest of the mystery bird’s actions were perfectly in character.

  Randall nodded. “He might be the only one who could recapture him safely.”

  “What’s up, Dr. Koslow?” Morgan asked from the doorway, looking nervously at the policeman.

  Paige stood right behind her, doing the same thing. “Did something happen?”

  “A large bird is running loose, and we think it might be somebody’s pet parrot,” Randall answered. “It could be injured. Or it could injure somebody, if they try to catch it and don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Morgan said immediately, stepping up to the officer. “Where is it?”

  The policeman looked relieved. “They’re still looking for it now. But I can take you where it was seen last.”

  “Take some gloves and one of the carriers from the basement. And a blanket, just in case,” Randall directed.

  Morgan nodded and headed for the stairs. Paige drifted back into the treatment room.

  Leigh found a phone and called Olan. A few minutes later, she found herself tagging along as the policeman led Morgan up the block to a small but well-manicured backyard along Jackman Street. Leigh knew she should get back to her mother’s house, but she wanted to know if the bird in question was really Zeus. She wasn’t familiar with Ms. Adams, and she didn’t want to draw any conclusions about the petnappings only to find out that the woman had been frightened by a loopy pigeon.

  They arrived to find three other o
fficers scanning the nearby trees, two with binoculars. Leigh studied Morgan, and found that she, too, was looking up. Leigh struck another name off her suspect list. Surely Morgan wasn’t that clever an actress. If she suspected they were looking for Zeus, she would be looking down, not up. She had helped to clip the bird’s flight feathers three days ago.

  “Morgan,” Leigh informed thoughtfully. “It may be Zeus we’re looking for.”

  The girl looked back at her with surprise. “How would Zeus get here?”

  “He was petnapped from Olan’s last night,” Leigh admitted. There was little point in keeping the secret when Olan himself would be arriving shortly.

  Morgan stared at Leigh for another moment, then quickly began scouting out suitable cover at ground level. She located their quarry within minutes. The bird was hiding only one backyard over at the base of a rhododendron bush.

  Morgan peered in at the bird from a distance, then quickly withdrew and stepped back. “Don’t go any closer,” she told the gathering crowd, holding out her arms protectively. “He’s really agitated. You poke in there after him, and he’ll take your face off.”

  Those same, disturbing words had met Leigh’s ears way too often lately. “Is it Zeus?” she asked.

  “I think so,” Morgan answered. “I can’t see him all that well, but it’s definitely a cockatoo.”

  “Is that as far as the bird got?” asked a policeman whose uniform identified him as the chief. He was relatively new to the position, and Leigh didn’t know him.

  “If their wings are clipped, they can’t fly,” Morgan explained. “They can only flutter around a bit. He probably just walked over here looking for a place to hide.”

  “Did you see any blood on him?” Leigh asked worriedly.

  Morgan’s dark eyes widened. “No. Why? Has he been injured?”

  “My baby!” shrieked Olan, running towards them from the car he’d double-parked haphazardly by one of the police cruisers. “Oh my. Oh dear. Oh my. Where is he? Is he okay?”

  “He’s over here,” Morgan called out, seeming to decide she was in charge now. She gestured impatiently to the policemen and other neighbors who had gathered around. “Everybody else back up!” she ordered. “Let Olan in here alone.”

  As Olan chugged toward them breathing like a freight train, the policemen obliged without comment.

  Olan ran straight to the bush, leaned down, and parted the branches. “Zeus, baby?” he called. “Are you here, boy? Don’t worry. Daddy won’t let anything happen to you!”

  A loud squawk erupted from the center of the bush.

  “That’s my boy!” Olan cried. “You’re okay. Come to Daddy!”

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a plastic bag, and dropped some small orange chunks at his feet. “I brought your favorite! Come and get it. It’s okay, baby…”

  Olan continued crooning to the bird, and within a few moments the cockatoo walked out from under the bush and began pecking at the fruit on the ground.

  The assembled crowd let out a collective sigh, but their relief turned quickly back to concern. The bird’s white breast and forewing were splattered with blood.

  “Oh, precious,” Olan moaned, bending down slowly toward the parrot. “What happened to you?”

  Morgan took a step closer. “If you can hold him, I’ll take a look,” she suggested.

  When the cockatoo had consumed all the available fruit, it willingly hopped onto Olan’s arm. He carefully circled its neck with his fingers, cooing all the while, until he had the bird under his control. Morgan slipped up and gently examined the bloodied breast and wing. “He doesn’t act hurt,” she said curiously.

  “No,” Olan agreed hopefully. “He doesn’t, does he?”

  After as thorough a look as Morgan could take without upsetting the bird, she stepped back with a frown.

  “You know,” she said, planting a hand on one cocked hip. “I don’t think that’s his blood.”

  The policemen looked at each other. “No?” the chief asked.

  Morgan shook her head. “I think he nailed somebody.”

  “You would do that, wouldn’t you, my precious?” Olan said proudly, moving the bird slowly towards the carrier Morgan had brought. Morgan pulled the plastic bag back out of Olan’s pocket, then tossed the remaining fruit in the back of the carrier. “Thank you, dear,” Olan replied, lowering the bird towards the opening.

  The bird struggled in the direction of the fruit, and Olan gently released him as he moved inside. Olan then closed the door behind the bird and wiped weepy eyes with his sleeve. “He’s okay,” he murmured, looking weak with relief. “He’s okay.”

  “This bird was stolen from you?” the chief asked.

  Olan nodded. “Last night. There was a ransom note. I—” He hiccupped. “I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe anyone could take him. He won’t let just anybody touch him. But then I saw the fruit on the ground. By his cage on the patio.” Another hiccup. “Zeussie just can’t resist mango!”

  “Chief?” one of the policemen interrupted, pocketing his radio as he walked up.

  The older officer turned. “Yeah?”

  “Polanski requested some non-urgent assistance over at her house. You want me to check it out?”

  The chief nodded. “I’ll be by in a few.” He turned back to Olan. “Would you mind coming down to the station? We’d like to get some more information from you.”

  Olan did not look thrilled at the prospect, but he nodded in acquiescence.

  Leigh watched the younger officer stride toward his squad car. Assistance at the Polanski house?

  Maura’s duplex was only a few blocks away.

  Leigh started walking.

  Chapter 20

  Leigh could hear the commotion as soon as she turned the corner. Some kind of crowd had gathered — and was still gathering — in front of Maura’s house, along the sidewalks, and out into the street. It wasn’t an unruly crowd, but the people she fell into step with as she neared were clearly on a mission. People of all ages and an assortment of pets appeared to be assembling for some sort of event.

  As Leigh walked closer she could see Maura standing on her front porch while little Eddie gazed out over the crowd from his belly pack. The much shorter figure standing by Maura’s side had been gesturing for the crowd to come closer, and as Leigh complied along with the rest, a husky voice began to speak.

  “Come on up, everybody,” Skippy called with authority. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We all know what’s been going on around here lately, and we all know it’s got to be stopped. I don’t know about you people, but Skippy Titus don’t let anybody mess with her birds! And you’re not going to let some cowardly scumbag mess with your pets anymore either, are you? Well, I say, are you?”

  “No!” a woman shouted from near to Leigh. “I’ve had enough!”

  “Nobody’s messing with my animals, I can tell you that!”

  “Mine either!”

  “No way!”

  A chorus of determined voices ensued, mixed with a smattering of enthusiastic applause, and Leigh’s heart warmed.

  “We let this happen!” Skippy continued when the noise died down. “Because we were all too damn scared to say anything. And what’s that got us? Nothin’!”

  Again the crowd applauded, and many voices cried out in agreement.

  The officer Maura had summoned made his way slowly up onto the porch, and to Leigh’s surprise, the crowd cheered him, too.

  “Police can’t do dip squat to protect our pets if we won’t talk to ’em!” Skippy railed. “You’uns know me and I ain’t no cop lover, but we got to do what we got to do, you know what I’m sayin’?”

  There were more hoots and applause.

  “This scumbag’s been terrorizing us — all of us — for weeks now, and we’ve not only put up with it, we’ve helped the bastard! We’ve helped him by doing exactly what he says, by being quiet. Well, I say that’s over! No more divide and conquer! Scumbag’s go
t to deal with all of us now!”

  Cheers resounded.

  “He can’t take everybody’s pets!”

  “We got to all stand together!”

  “He don’t stand a chance then!”

  The commotion only grew louder as the officer, Maura, and Skippy conferred among themselves. Finally Skippy turned to the crowd again and raised her hands in the air. “So here’s what we’re going to do!” she yelled. “Instead of nobody talking, we’re all going to talk. Every person here’s going to come up and get a sheet of paper, put down your name and number, and write down what you know. Whatever you’ve seen, whatever you’ve heard. If you don’t know nothing, then write that. Don’t matter! Copper here’s going to pick them all up and call the people who need called. Then they’re going catch this bastard and put his scrawny behind in jail where he belongs!”

  The crowd erupted with enthusiasm, and as Maura and the officer began distributing sheets of paper and pencils from the porch, people pressed forward to participate.

  “Isn’t it wonderful!” piped up a voice at Leigh’s elbow. She looked down to see Mrs. Gregg, the waiting room’s nearly permanent occupant, smiling from ear to ear. “People have been talking about doing something like this, but who would have thought Skippy would be the one to get it done?”

  Leigh confessed that she had not, and wondered to herself if the kidnapping of Olan’s bird last night might have spurred Skippy into action. She could easily picture Olan calling up his supposed rival and bawling out his grief over the phone. They were both bird people, after all. They might disagree on method, but they understood each other.

  “It’s so lovely to see one’s community come together in times of crisis,” Mrs. Gregg beamed.

  “Yes,” Leigh agreed, smiling herself as she watched everyone move up to the porch in an orderly manner, collect their papers and pencils, then move out of the way to find someplace to write. Car hoods were popular, as were nearby concrete porch railings, the sidewalk, and other people’s backs.