Free Never Steal a Cockatiel (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series Book 9) by Edie Claire

said ‘No, only Tuesday.’ But she’d just told me she could only make Thursday! That’s why I asked her ‘Can you make it Thursday?’ and she said, ‘No, only Tuesday!’”
    Leigh looked up to see the clinic’s newest receptionist, Amy, heading in to start her shift with another of the veterinary assistants, Paige. The slightly heavy, freckled Amy was a nice enough girl and good with the computer, but Leigh had to wonder at Randall’s wisdom in hiring a receptionist who seemed genetically incapable of saying anything only once.
    “Hi, Leigh!” Amy said with a wave as the two women cut in front of the van to cross the street to the clinic. “That’s Leigh,” she informed her companion. “I said ‘hi’ to her.”
    Paige, a frizzy-headed blonde in her early thirties who had been employed through at least four different receptionists now, glanced up at Leigh with a beleaguered expression. Kill me now, her eyes seemed to be messaging as she offered a wave of her own.
    Leigh waved back and then started up the van to head to West View. According to Bess, Frances had found a smudge on the mirror in the half bath last night and responded by setting up a roster of housecleaning duties for all three of the women to carry out. Frances had also determined that Dr. Koslow “needed his books examined,” and that Leigh’s primary job today would be to “dust all these filthy papers.” Leigh’s first round of duty was supposed to have started ten minutes ago. It wouldn’t end until Cara arrived tomorrow morning.
    Kill me now, indeed.

Chapter 7
    “Koslow,” Maura’s voice boomed from Leigh’s cell phone. “Are you at home?”
    “No,” Leigh answered, staring at the pile of file folders on the table before her with despair. Bess must have scooped them up from the clinic’s basement floor, because their every surface was encrusted with animal hair, dust bunnies, and a gritty veneer of crumbled kibble. Naturally, Frances refused to even look at the papers until they were cleaned, and a card table — “not the kitchen table, for pity’s sake!” — was designated as the triage area. Leigh wondered whose bright idea it had been to tell Jared not to touch any of her father’s paperwork. Didn’t they know the diligent yet mentally challenged kennel cleaner took every instruction literally?
    “I’m at my parents’ house,” Leigh answered.
    “Oh, right. Do you think it would be okay if Eddie and I dropped by?”
    Deliverance! “How soon can you get here?”
    Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang, and Leigh leapt up from her chair. “Maura’s here!” she announced to her mother as she headed for the door. Frances, who was planted on the couch poring over another pile of papers spread out on a tray table, dipped her chin to peer at Leigh over the top of her reading glasses.
    “How is the file cleaning going?” she asked with suspicion.
    “Stupendously,” Leigh replied, hastening to open the door.
    Maura Polanski looked down at her with a smile; Eddie Polanski looked up at her with a scowl.
    Leigh swung open the door. “Come in,” she invited, gesturing the twosome into the living room.
    Frances sat up immediately and pushed her work table to the side. “Maura, dear!” she greeted with enthusiasm. “Oh, bring that little darling over here!”
    “Hello, Ms. Koslow,” Maura said cheerfully. She walked over to the couch and stood next to Frances, leaning down to give her and Eddie a better look at each other. Frances reached out a hand and held his, and the infant gurgled with delight.
    “Oh, give me a break!” Leigh mumbled.
    “All babies like me,” Frances said smugly, making a silly face. Eddie practically contorted himself with amusement, and Maura laughed out loud.
    Leigh bit back a groan. “Did you need to talk to me about something?” she prompted, wondering if the policewoman had heard about Skippy and tied the incident to the petnapping rumors.
    “That I do,” Maura said vaguely,