Never Tease a Siamese: A Leigh Koslow Mystery by Edie Claire Page A

she returned tersely, trying—a little—to disguise her current animosity. It was too early to even take a pregnancy test, but ever since Leigh’s slip at the x-ray table, the snooty tech had insisted on eyeing her like they shared some colossal secret. God forbid the woman should run into Warren in the next few days—she’d probably tell him everything herself.
    "So, how’s the patient, Doc?" the tech said loudly, leaning over the surgery table as if to inspect Randall’s work. "Oh, yes. Adhesions. I told Nikki Loomis last time not to let that cat get near anything cloth, ever . Cat's lucky to be alive. What did he eat this time?"
    Randall continued sewing. He respected Jeanine’s work as a tech, but that didn’t mean he listened to everything she said. "It’s a key," Leigh answered, holding out the paper towel. She couldn’t think of anything to link Jeanine to the Murchisons, but she resolved to try. If the key didn’t mean anything to her father, it had to mean something to somebody else at the clinic. And if anyone else was to be incriminated, it was only fair that the most obnoxious went first. "Look familiar?" she asked, pushing the smelly mess closer to Jeanine and watching her expression.
    The tech reached out a bony hand and pulled the towel closer still, her nose practically touching the mass of threads. "Cloth key chain," she said with authority. "That’ll get 'em. Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but that woman should have known better by now. I say—if you can’t keep the cat safe, then maybe you shouldn’t have it at all."
    Leigh swallowed the unkind retort brewing in the back of her mind. Jeanine clearly had no idea what lengths Lilah Murchison had actually gone to to protect Number One Son. Which also meant it was very unlikely she’d ever set foot in the mansion.
    "Did you ever meet Mrs. Murchison?" Leigh asked in her most innocent voice.
    A look of annoyance flashed across the technician’s face. "She never came in the clinic, or I would have given her a piece of my mind. I offered to do her vaccinations for her at the house one time, but she only wanted Dr. Koslow." She glanced up at Randall, who was otherwise absorbed, then tossed her head in his direction as she threw Leigh an arching eyebrow. "And I mean wanted him," she mouthed silently.
    Not sure whether to laugh or be nauseous, Leigh changed the subject. "Did you hear that Peggy Linney died?"
    Jeanine’s face was perfectly blank. "Who?"
    "Oh," Leigh backpedaled. "I thought you might know Mrs. Murchison’s old housekeeper, but I guess she never came in the clinic either."
    Jeanine shrugged, and Leigh reluctantly crossed her name off the suspect list. The tech lived in Moon Township anyway; she wouldn’t be familiar with the Avalon-Bellevue-Ben Avon set unless they had pets.
    "If the inquisition is over," Randall broke in suddenly, his gloved hands in the air, "could I get some help here? I need a status check."
    Leigh started to step over, but Jeanine was at the table in a flash. The tech stood by until the stitching was completed, all the while prattling to Dr. Koslow about how his newest associate insisted on using a ridiculously expensive suture material on spays, and why it was Nancy’s fault for ordering the stuff in the first place. Leigh was about to consider strangulation with the same when Jeanine mercifully remembered something else she had to do.
    "By the way," Randall began as she turned to leave. "Did those new recirculating blankets come in yet?"
    Jeanine shook her head. "Not unless they're in one of the packages that just came. But I'll check."
    She was off like a shot, and Leigh pulled out a towel to cover Number One Son, whose bare abdomen was wet and sticky-orange from the disinfectant scrub. She stayed by the cat while Randall tidied up, her mind once again deep in thought. Since Dean Murchison was clearly behind the catnapping, which was more than likely tied up with the belief that his mother’s