Never Buried: A Leigh Koslow Mystery by Edie Claire Page B
Authors: Edie Claire
Tags: Fiction, General, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Koslow; Leigh (Fictitious Character), Pittsburgh (Pa.), Women Cat Owners, Women Copy Writers
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were ever filed.
She grabbed the reels with the relevant articles and paid to have them copied. Perhaps Cara’s instincts were worth something. Mrs. Rhodis might be an eccentric, but nothing was wrong with her memory.
***
Cara's front door was blocked by a large package wrapped in brown paper, and Leigh approached it carefully. She didn't consider herself paranoid—but in light of the last two days, caution seemed prudent. Cara's name and address were clearly visible on top of the box, along with a smattering of bizarre symbols and elaborate stamps. On closer inspection Leigh realized—with relief—that the symbols were Japanese characters. A present from Gil.
So why hadn't Cara answered the door? She wasn’t still asleep, was she? Leigh picked up the package, which felt like it housed lead shot, and balanced it on a hip. She opened the door with her key and walked in. Yep. Cara was up. A look at the security box in the foyer told her the system was off, and the buzz of a power tool echoing down the stairs explained the unanswered doorbell.
Aunt Lydie, of course .
She followed the sound to one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor, where Cara stood peering up into a closet. Inside it was the lower half of Lydie Dublin, standing on a stepladder.
Leigh put the package down with a thump. "Should I ask what's going on here?" she yelled from the doorway.
"Leigh!" Cara called enthusiastically. "Did you find out anything?"
"Plenty. But what are you two doing?"
The buzzing noise stopped, and her cousin's answer was interrupted by a voice from above. "There's nothing here, honey!"
Cara swung round to look back in the closet. "Are you sure?" she said, disappointed. "There must something!"
"Sorry, dear." Lydie answered, stepping down. "It's like I suspected. That section only bulges out to cover the vent pipes from the downstairs bathroom. There's nothing up there that shouldn't be."
Cara pouted. Lydie laid down the jigsaw and a flashlight and dusted her hands on her smock. She was the image of Leigh's own mother, but with certain significant differences. Her eyes sparkled more than scorned, and her naturally gray hair was—today—cherry red. "Leigh honey, nice to see you! Your mother and I are so glad you're staying over."
"I'm glad, too," Leigh answered. Lydie probably was glad her daughter had company. Frances, on the other hand, was probably just relieved someone would be around to call paramedics if Leigh electrocuted herself with a microwave.
"Mom's been checking out some dead spaces I've found," Cara explained. "No luck so far, but there are plenty of other places we can check."
Lydie looked at her watch. "I'm afraid that's all for today, honey. I've got a class this afternoon, you know."
Cara smiled. "Yes, I know." Ever since Mason Dublin's untimely departure—with another woman—Lydie had worked two and sometimes three jobs at a time to support herself and to pay her daughter's way through school. Now Cara was returning the favor.
Lydie packed up her tools and left them in a corner of the bedroom. "I'll come back tomorrow morning if you want." She gave her daughter a hug. "Are you sure you'll be all right? You know you can always come sleep at the house."
"I'll be fine, Mom. You know how I feel about staying here."
Lydie's mouth twitched, but she smiled and nodded. "I'll let myself out. You take care of yourselves, you hear?"
As soon as her mother had gone, Cara climbed up onto the antique four poster bed and stretched out on her side. "Are you OK?" Leigh asked.
"As long as I relax, I'm great," Cara answered. "Don't keep me in suspense. What did you find out?"
"Well, nothing you didn't already believe," Leigh answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. She handed Cara the copies. "The newspaper accounts from 1949 matched Mrs. Rhodis' story pretty well."
"Of course they did," Cara said smugly. She took the copies and read them quickly. "Not much follow-up, I guess." She put the papers
She grabbed the reels with the relevant articles and paid to have them copied. Perhaps Cara’s instincts were worth something. Mrs. Rhodis might be an eccentric, but nothing was wrong with her memory.
***
Cara's front door was blocked by a large package wrapped in brown paper, and Leigh approached it carefully. She didn't consider herself paranoid—but in light of the last two days, caution seemed prudent. Cara's name and address were clearly visible on top of the box, along with a smattering of bizarre symbols and elaborate stamps. On closer inspection Leigh realized—with relief—that the symbols were Japanese characters. A present from Gil.
So why hadn't Cara answered the door? She wasn’t still asleep, was she? Leigh picked up the package, which felt like it housed lead shot, and balanced it on a hip. She opened the door with her key and walked in. Yep. Cara was up. A look at the security box in the foyer told her the system was off, and the buzz of a power tool echoing down the stairs explained the unanswered doorbell.
Aunt Lydie, of course .
She followed the sound to one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor, where Cara stood peering up into a closet. Inside it was the lower half of Lydie Dublin, standing on a stepladder.
Leigh put the package down with a thump. "Should I ask what's going on here?" she yelled from the doorway.
"Leigh!" Cara called enthusiastically. "Did you find out anything?"
"Plenty. But what are you two doing?"
The buzzing noise stopped, and her cousin's answer was interrupted by a voice from above. "There's nothing here, honey!"
Cara swung round to look back in the closet. "Are you sure?" she said, disappointed. "There must something!"
"Sorry, dear." Lydie answered, stepping down. "It's like I suspected. That section only bulges out to cover the vent pipes from the downstairs bathroom. There's nothing up there that shouldn't be."
Cara pouted. Lydie laid down the jigsaw and a flashlight and dusted her hands on her smock. She was the image of Leigh's own mother, but with certain significant differences. Her eyes sparkled more than scorned, and her naturally gray hair was—today—cherry red. "Leigh honey, nice to see you! Your mother and I are so glad you're staying over."
"I'm glad, too," Leigh answered. Lydie probably was glad her daughter had company. Frances, on the other hand, was probably just relieved someone would be around to call paramedics if Leigh electrocuted herself with a microwave.
"Mom's been checking out some dead spaces I've found," Cara explained. "No luck so far, but there are plenty of other places we can check."
Lydie looked at her watch. "I'm afraid that's all for today, honey. I've got a class this afternoon, you know."
Cara smiled. "Yes, I know." Ever since Mason Dublin's untimely departure—with another woman—Lydie had worked two and sometimes three jobs at a time to support herself and to pay her daughter's way through school. Now Cara was returning the favor.
Lydie packed up her tools and left them in a corner of the bedroom. "I'll come back tomorrow morning if you want." She gave her daughter a hug. "Are you sure you'll be all right? You know you can always come sleep at the house."
"I'll be fine, Mom. You know how I feel about staying here."
Lydie's mouth twitched, but she smiled and nodded. "I'll let myself out. You take care of yourselves, you hear?"
As soon as her mother had gone, Cara climbed up onto the antique four poster bed and stretched out on her side. "Are you OK?" Leigh asked.
"As long as I relax, I'm great," Cara answered. "Don't keep me in suspense. What did you find out?"
"Well, nothing you didn't already believe," Leigh answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. She handed Cara the copies. "The newspaper accounts from 1949 matched Mrs. Rhodis' story pretty well."
"Of course they did," Cara said smugly. She took the copies and read them quickly. "Not much follow-up, I guess." She put the papers
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