Read Online Never Tease a Siamese: A Leigh Koslow Mystery by Edie Claire - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Edie Claire
Tags: Fiction, General, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Koslow; Leigh (Fictitious Character), Pittsburgh (Pa.), Women Cat Owners, Women Copy Writers, Siamese Cat, Veterinarians
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into an ulcer. If the truth comes out, I'll kill you. Maybe the two acts of vandalism weren’t related, but she couldn’t help wondering if "the truth" wasn’t at that moment traveling somewhere in Number One Son’s intestines. "Mrs. Rhodis," she asked intently, "how well did you know Lilah Murchison?"
"Oh, honey," Adith said with a chuckle. "That woman hasn't talked to the likes of me since the moon landing. But I used to know her. Back when she was Lilah Beemish—Avalon's own town tramp. My little cousin Laverne and her used to hang out some, but my aunt put a stop to that. 'Them Beemishes are nothing but trash,' she'd say."
A trashy woman with at least one big secret, Leigh thought nervously. She knew the black-widow stories as well as anybody—three husbands, three suspicious deaths. The first one Lilah had married quite young, and supposedly just to get out of town. But the marriage had ended prematurely in a bizarre car crash, and she had limped back into town a penniless widow. The second husband and source of her current wealth she had pursued quite shamelessly—much to the chagrin of his well-connected wife, whom he had coldly cast aside. That husband had died of a heart attack, which to the locals meant poisoning. The last marriage was to Albert Murchison, Dean’s presumed father, who had died in his sleep—a.k.a., a well-placed pillow.
Leigh had never really believed that any of the men were murdered. "Adith," she asked, "Mrs. Murchison was no spring chicken when Dean was born, was she?"
"Lord, no, honey," Adith answered gaily. "She was forty if she was a day. But Albert desperately wanted a son, and time was running out."
"How old was he?"
She whistled. "Oh, almost seventy, I'd say. It was a miracle Dean was ever conceived."
"Well, apparently he wasn't," Leigh answered dryly. She looked up to see if the lawyer planned on continuing, but found him hemmed in by a pack of agitated beneficiaries.
She thought for a moment. "Was Lilah the maternal type?"
Adith raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing.
"I'll take that as a no," Leigh continued. "So if Lilah married Albert for his money, why would she even want a child? A son or daughter would just take away half her inheritance. Unless she was worried that if she didn't produce an heir, he would dump her for an even younger wife…"
The older woman shook her head. "I can see Albert divorcing her if she couldn't have a kid. But she didn't marry him for his money. He didn't have a dime."
Leigh's eyes widened. "But this house was his!"
"Sure, the family mansion, the respectability . But Albert Murchison was a dud with money. Lost most everything his family gave him. It was the second husband who had the cash—and the clout. But that money was new money, if you know what I mean, and he was an upstart, an outsider." Adith raised her chin. "Albert Murchison was genuine class, and that's what Lilah wanted next. A husband who could bring her up in the world."
And, Leigh thought uncharitably, who wasn't likely to live very long. "So, she faked a pregnancy and tricked him into thinking that Dean was their baby. And she probably had a prenup so that the money she brought to the marriage was safe from the child anyway. Amazing."
"Cold," Adith said wickedly. "She was vicious cold. Stole a baby to keep Albert Murchison happy after she'd given one of her own away. Now, that's the part I wonder about. Why would she give up a baby of her own?" Her lips pursed in thought. "Maybe it was during marriage number two—and her husband knew it wasn't his."
Leigh didn't answer. Her thoughts were back on the clinic, and how much Lilah Murchison had appeared to trust her father. Enough to share personal secrets? If someone was threatening Randall not to expose the contents of Number One Son’s jejunum, that was bad enough. But what if "the truth" referred to something else—something her father already knew?
"But then," Adith continued to prattle, "How could she have
"Oh, honey," Adith said with a chuckle. "That woman hasn't talked to the likes of me since the moon landing. But I used to know her. Back when she was Lilah Beemish—Avalon's own town tramp. My little cousin Laverne and her used to hang out some, but my aunt put a stop to that. 'Them Beemishes are nothing but trash,' she'd say."
A trashy woman with at least one big secret, Leigh thought nervously. She knew the black-widow stories as well as anybody—three husbands, three suspicious deaths. The first one Lilah had married quite young, and supposedly just to get out of town. But the marriage had ended prematurely in a bizarre car crash, and she had limped back into town a penniless widow. The second husband and source of her current wealth she had pursued quite shamelessly—much to the chagrin of his well-connected wife, whom he had coldly cast aside. That husband had died of a heart attack, which to the locals meant poisoning. The last marriage was to Albert Murchison, Dean’s presumed father, who had died in his sleep—a.k.a., a well-placed pillow.
Leigh had never really believed that any of the men were murdered. "Adith," she asked, "Mrs. Murchison was no spring chicken when Dean was born, was she?"
"Lord, no, honey," Adith answered gaily. "She was forty if she was a day. But Albert desperately wanted a son, and time was running out."
"How old was he?"
She whistled. "Oh, almost seventy, I'd say. It was a miracle Dean was ever conceived."
"Well, apparently he wasn't," Leigh answered dryly. She looked up to see if the lawyer planned on continuing, but found him hemmed in by a pack of agitated beneficiaries.
She thought for a moment. "Was Lilah the maternal type?"
Adith raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing.
"I'll take that as a no," Leigh continued. "So if Lilah married Albert for his money, why would she even want a child? A son or daughter would just take away half her inheritance. Unless she was worried that if she didn't produce an heir, he would dump her for an even younger wife…"
The older woman shook her head. "I can see Albert divorcing her if she couldn't have a kid. But she didn't marry him for his money. He didn't have a dime."
Leigh's eyes widened. "But this house was his!"
"Sure, the family mansion, the respectability . But Albert Murchison was a dud with money. Lost most everything his family gave him. It was the second husband who had the cash—and the clout. But that money was new money, if you know what I mean, and he was an upstart, an outsider." Adith raised her chin. "Albert Murchison was genuine class, and that's what Lilah wanted next. A husband who could bring her up in the world."
And, Leigh thought uncharitably, who wasn't likely to live very long. "So, she faked a pregnancy and tricked him into thinking that Dean was their baby. And she probably had a prenup so that the money she brought to the marriage was safe from the child anyway. Amazing."
"Cold," Adith said wickedly. "She was vicious cold. Stole a baby to keep Albert Murchison happy after she'd given one of her own away. Now, that's the part I wonder about. Why would she give up a baby of her own?" Her lips pursed in thought. "Maybe it was during marriage number two—and her husband knew it wasn't his."
Leigh didn't answer. Her thoughts were back on the clinic, and how much Lilah Murchison had appeared to trust her father. Enough to share personal secrets? If someone was threatening Randall not to expose the contents of Number One Son’s jejunum, that was bad enough. But what if "the truth" referred to something else—something her father already knew?
"But then," Adith continued to prattle, "How could she have
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