Free Never Buried: A Leigh Koslow Mystery by Edie Claire Page A

flight back to Pittsburgh, and all his hard work will be for nothing! He's got to finish up this project now, so that after the baby’s born he can stay put for a while. I'm not going to let this mess spoil all our plans!"
    Sufficiently chastened, Leigh retreated. Cara smoothed her hair and spoke cheerfully to her husband. "Hi, Honey. Sorry about that. Leigh wanted to talk to you some more but I couldn't wait any longer, so I wrestled the phone away from her." She paused. "Oh, I'm wonderful, and so is little Pippi or Bobo. Except that we both miss you."
    Having no desire to hang around and eavesdrop, Leigh decided it was time to visit the Avalon Police Department. She arrived there five minutes later, shoe box in hand. Finding a place to drop it on Maura's cluttered desk was difficult, but she managed. It landed with flair—displacing several sheets of paper and sending a stray pen rolling to the floor.
    Maura, who had been too buried in paperwork to notice her approach, glared. "Koslow," she acknowledged, her voice deadpan. "Nice entrance." She examined the box as Leigh stooped for the pen. "You bought me air soles? How sweet."
    "Um," Leigh hedged, glad that Maura was being sarcastic, "not exactly. Are you a seafood person?"
    "Turf and surf in cardboard? I'll pass."
    Leigh sighed and sat down. "It's fish. They were scattered over Cara's patio this morning."
    Maura's eyes flickered. She sat up and opened the box lid. Then, with a grimace and a wrinkle of her nose, she slammed it closed.
    Leigh couldn't help laughing. "I can't believe that got more reaction out of you than a ten-year-old corpse."
    "I've never liked fish," Maura said simply, settling back in her chair. "So what's the deal? I don't get it."
    Leigh took a breath. "The deal is, those fish have letters painted on their sides. And the letters spell 'GET OUT.'"
    Maura's eyebrows rose. "You're sure?"
    Leigh nodded.
    Maura rose from behind her desk and leaned over the cubicle wall. "Hey, Chief! Got a minute? Fish question." She sat back down and turned to Leigh. “Lucky for you, we have an award-winning angler on staff.”
    Donald Mellman's bulky form soon loomed over them both. As Leigh explained the morning's events, his pudgy fingers stirred the collection of fish pieces.
    "Bluegill," he said with pride. "And this one's a crappie."
    Leigh wondered what possible difference it made what kind of fish they were. She started to ask, but Maura interrupted.
    "Are these the kind of fish you could buy in a grocery store?"
    "Not hardly," Mellman answered, poking his finger into one of the fish's mouths to show the hook scar. "These fellas are a pretty common catch around here. If you just went out and starting fishing, this is what you'd end up with. Pan fish. Most people throw 'em back."
    If they'd been store-bought, Leigh thought, a clerk might have remembered the purchase. Rats.
    "Koslow," Maura began with a heavy tone. "One threat could be a fluke. Two threats, and you need to take it personally. This could be a dangerous situation."
    "You don't have to convince me," Leigh said sincerely. "But Cara refuses to leave. She thinks the whole fish thing is just an amateurish stunt, to keep us from finding something that's hidden in the house."
    The Chief shook his head. "She's taking for granted that the perp's got all his marbles. What if he doesn't?" His voice assumed a paternal tone. "The safest thing would be for you and your cousin to find another place to stay—at least until this blows over."
    Leigh sighed. "I'm all for that. I'll keep working on her."
    With a trademark nod, Mellman retreated to his office.
    Maura pulled a plastic bag out of a cabinet and dumped in the contents of the cardboard box. "You know, Koslow," she said in her police voice, "you should have just called us over. It would have been better if we could have seen the way everything was laid out."
    Leigh sighed. "I told you, the fish weren't laid out. I suppose they were once, but our slightly dense