Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9) (21 page)

Ethan shrugged again. “Matt changed his mind.”

Allison’s eyes rolled. “What he means is that Matt only suggested it because he wanted to see
Kirsten
again. When he found out she wasn’t coming in tomorrow, he lost interest.”

Leigh perked an eyebrow. The Pack usually got along well, considering the difference in age between Cara’s son Mathias and the younger three. But last evening, she had noticed a distinct chill in the air between Matt and Allison. Could the living Skipper doll be the cause of it?

“You have a problem with Matthias liking Kirsten?” Leigh inquired.

Allison merely glared.

“Allie thinks she’s, like, a total fake,” Ethan chimed in. “Matt thinks Kirsten likes him. And she
has
been flirting with him and stuff. Allie told him Kirsten was only doing it because he was related to Grandpa, and Matt got ticked.”

“He
asked her out,
Mom,” Allison said, her voice uncharacteristically bitter. “He’s like, living in a parallel universe or something.”

“She said she’d think about it,” Ethan interjected.

Allison rolled her eyes again. “Sure she will.” Her gaze fixed back on her mother. “Why can’t I go back to the clinic today? You said I could help Grandpa all week.”

Leigh cleared her throat. “I know. But your Aunt Mo has found out some new information that makes me think we should all back off a bit. It may not be completely safe for you guys to be hanging around down there asking questions. Not if anyone starts to suspect—”

“What new information?” Allison demanded.

Leigh sighed. She suspected that most mothers did not regularly have awkward conversations with their children regarding family member involvement in murder investigations. She hoped those mothers appreciated it.

“Kyle Claymore is not our petnapper,” she explained. “At least, he’s not the only petnapper. He was killed last weekend up near Erie. The police think he was murdered by some people engaged in illegal gambling, and his death may have nothing whatsoever to do with the petnappings down here. But until we know that for sure — that no one at the clinic is associated with that kind of violence, even accidentally, I want you guys to stay away.”

Allison stared darkly at her mother. “Seriously? Some guy gets murdered all the way up in Erie and that makes it too dangerous for me to spend the day with Grandpa?”

Leigh braced herself for yet another battle where she was forced to defend herself from uncomfortable accusations about how she didn’t trust them, how they weren’t little kids anymore, how she was as bad a worrier as Grandma… yada yada yada. “I have enough to worry about taking care of your grandparents all day today,” she said firmly, trying to short-circuit the usual argument. “I don’t need to worry about you guys, too. And I
will,
whether you think your involvement in all this is dangerous or not.”

Allison’s brown eyes stared back at her, the young brain behind churning with heaven-only-knew what thoughts. After a long moment the child appeared, oddly enough, to concede. “If Kyle’s dead, what happens with Peep?” she asked finally.

Leigh relaxed a little. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to Grandpa Mason about it yet. I think he’s coming back today.”

Allison leaned forward and took a slow sip of orange juice.

Leigh waited for more protestations, but Allison went back to nibbling at her birdseed bread, and Ethan poured himself a second bowl of cereal.

Leigh tried to dismiss the vague, unsettled feeling in her gut. “Your Aunt Cara still isn’t feeling well,” she explained. “So your Uncle Gil is going to work from home today. Call him if you need anything, but try to stay away from Lenna until she’s completely better. We don’t all need to get sick.”

“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 officers 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.