Quick Fix Page 3

  I quickened my pace, stumbling backward, afraid to take my eyes off her for the second it would take to turn around. She sped up. My heel connected with something slippery, and I went down, legs splayed in front of me.

  I felt a razor-stubbled ankle connect with mine. Heard a thwump as she hit the ground next to me. Wondered fleetingly and, okay, inappropriately, how the heck she’d managed to reach past that belly to shave her legs … and then felt a little sick.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. I had just tripped a hugely pregnant woman. Not on purpose, but still. Does it get any lower than that?

  Wincing, I opened one eye to assess the damage, halfway expecting to see the baby shooting out from beneath her skirt. But, no, she’d landed on her amply padded derriere and was doing her spitting-angry best to haul herself back to a standing position, so I supposed she couldn’t have been too badly hurt.

  I shook myself off and hightailed it after Molly and the guys, shoving the stroller ahead of me. Billy jumped off an oak with Molly wrapped around his neck as I caught up to them.

  Mark was there at the base of the tree. “Is she okay?” he asked, glancing back at the zoo employee, who’d almost made it to her feet.

  “Looks like it to me,” I said. “Uh-oh—she has her phone out. She’s calling for backup!”

  Billy dumped Molly into the stroller and draped the blanket back over her, telling her to hold on tight. Mark took the lead, keeping us safely out of sight of other zoo employees until we got to his car, a Ford Shelby GT500. He changed cars like other people changed underwear, never wanting to be pinned to a particular make and model.

  It was a cool car, but it didn’t have much in the way of a backseat. It would have to do—Billy and Molly had come on the Metro and I’d taken a cab as my client, so we didn’t really have a choice as far as transportation went. “Geez, are we all going to fit?” I asked, drumming my fingers on the car top while Billy picked up Molly and Mark shoved the stolen stroller behind a handy Dumpster.

  “We’ll fit. Get in the back with Molly—your legs are short enough. Billy, you’re shotgun.”

  I might have taken umbrage at his remark about my legs, but he was right. Very few backseats are a tight squeeze for me. On the plus side, I can wear six-inch platform stilettos without intimidating men of average height. Not that I do—comfortable feet are too important to me—but I could if I wanted to.

  Billy handed me his sister. Molly in baby orangutan form was too small for an adult seat belt, but what choice did I have? I adjusted her shoulder strap as well as I could, but she obviously wasn’t comfortable with it and began squirming as soon as the car started.

  “Everything okay back there?” Mark asked as he backed out of the space.

  “They’re fine. Let’s go,” Billy answered for me. Huh. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one trying to keep his sister’s busy fingers off the seat belt buckle.

  “Just hurry and get us home. I don’t know how long I can keep her quiet back here,” I said.

  “Not a problem.” Mark turned out of the lot and slipped into traffic with ease, cutting from lane to lane, picking up speed with each maneuver. He seemed to have a sixth sense about when the lights were going to change and always managed to be in the right spot at the right time.

  It didn’t take Molly long to get out of the seat belt, in spite of my effort to keep her contained, so I decided holding her would be my best option. Only she decided not being held was her best option, and baby orangutans are remarkably slippery. She was out of my arms and climbing onto Billy before I could shout a warning.

  “Hey!” Billy grabbed her and tried to pull her off. She held tight to his hair with one foot and bongoed his head with both long-fingered hands, sounds of distress spilling from her.

  I tried my best to disengage her. That only agitated her more. She launched herself from Billy onto Mark, planting herself in his lap. Mark gripped the steering wheel and bore down on the accelerator, grim determination molding his features. Billy tried to pry her off him, but she grabbed the wheel.

  And found the horn.

  “Crap,” I said. “Molly, stop that!”

  “She doesn’t understand you,” Billy said. “Molly, cut that out!”

  “Oh, and she understands you?” I blew my hair out of my face and cut him a look.

  “We’re almost there.” How Mark stayed calm with an ape bouncing up and down on his lap as he negotiated the streets of D.C. was beyond me, but I imagine the CIA trains you to keep your cool in unexpected situations.

  Molly lost interest in the horn before pissing off too many of our fellow motorists, and hopped back over to Billy. She grabbed him by the shoulders, banged her head against his chest twice, and pointed to the window.

  “What? What do you want, Molly? What’s the matter?” Billy sounded as close to frantic as I’d ever heard him.

  Molly got very still, and I swear I saw green tinge her face. It didn’t mix well with the orange. “Uh-oh,” I said. “I think she might be—”

  She spewed all over Billy’s chest.

  “—carsick,” I finished lamely.

  “Christ,” Mark said under his breath, but kept driving.

  Billy, for once, was speechless.

  Chapter 4

  “Molly did try to get out,” I said later, once we were in my condo, shielded from the prying eyes of the world. None of us was particularly worried about the lady at the zoo. No one else had seen us with Molly before we’d gotten out of there, and they wouldn’t find that a baby orangutan was missing when they followed up on her story. They’d probably write it off as pregnancy hormones and suggest she might want to go on maternity leave a little early.

  “It’s not like she wanted to barf in Mark’s car,” I continued.

  “Screw Mark’s car. What about my shirt?” Billy had showered and changed and was sitting at my kitchen table with Mark. They had helped themselves to beers from the fridge.

  I was in a nearby upholstered rocker—though definitely not rocking—holding a sleeping Molly in my arms. She’d settled down considerably once her stomach was empty. We still didn’t know if she understood any of what we said to her, but she looked like she did. Then again, all those orangs at the zoo had looked like they understood everything said to them, too. Who really knew?

  “Your shirt won’t have to be detailed,” Mark said drily.

  “Isn’t it time for you to trade it in anyway? You’ve had it for at least two weeks,” Billy kidded.

  “You guys stop—Molly couldn’t help it. We all know she’s prone to motion sickness, and the stress of this”—I gestured helplessly at the hairy little bundle in my arms—“didn’t help. The important thing is, what are we going to do?”

  “Good question,” Billy said. “I’m hoping she’ll spontaneously change back. Then I’m going to suggest to my parents that they lock her in her room for the next ten years, until we can be sure she has control of herself.”

  I chewed my lip, my hands too occupied for me to get a fingernail to my mouth. “Should we call them, do you think? Let them know?”

  “My parents? No way. Can you imagine how Mommo would react to this, especially now?”

  He was right. Auntie Mo—Billy had conflated his stepmom’s name to “Mommo” at an early age—could be a little melodramatic even under the best of circumstances. The closer to the party, the worse she got. It was just part of the process for her. God only knew what she would do if she found out her baby was now an ape.

  Mark, who’d been thoughtfully sipping his beer, spoke. “I suggest we call James. He probably knows more about what could have possibly gone wrong with Molly than anyone else I can think of.”

  James is my second-oldest brother, right after Thomas, the lawyer. He’s a perpetual student whose current field of study is genetic engineering. A nonadaptor himself, he’s determined to isolate the gene responsible for our anomaly.

  Billy nodded. “How soon can we get him here?”

  I shrugged.
“Thomas will know—ask him. He should be here with dinner soon.”

  Yes, I invited my brother for dinner and then asked him to bring it. I’d like to say it was because of our emergency, but honestly? I do it all the time. Thomas knows better than to expect me to cook.

  “What’s he bringing? Thai?” Billy asked. Worried about his sister he might be, but not much interfered with his appetite.

  “What else?” I said. There was a lovely Thai restaurant on the bottom floor of Thomas’s office building, and the owners knew him well enough that they didn’t even bother to ask him what he wanted when he called them for takeout.

  On cue, the front door opened. Thomas had obviously figured out my new security code. “Hope everyone’s hungry—I brought double the usual,” he called from the entry hall. He walked right past me with barely a wave, acknowledged Billy and Mark with a nod, and started unpacking containers of aromatic ambrosia. My salivary glands kicked in big-time when I detected the familiar scents of pad thai, drunken noodles, and green curry.

  It took Thomas a moment. Mark leaned back in his chair and watched him, a bland, expectant look on his face.

  “Wait for it,” Billy said, observing my brother with equal interest.

  Thomas’s head popped up, and he contemplated the cabinet in front of him. “Why is Ciel holding an orangutan?” he said without turning. Almost like he was afraid to confirm what his eyes had told him.

  Nobody said anything.

  He finally looked at me. I lifted one hand in a tiny wave. His eyes swept the room.

  “Where’s Molly?” he asked carefully.

  I cleared my throat and pointed at the small form on my lap.

  “What?” He rushed to me, knelt, and stared at Molly’s face. He shook his head and stood. “Good one, guys. Really good. Don’t know how you got hold of the ape. Your doing, Ciel? You had a job at the zoo today, didn’t you? Had me going for a second. Now, where’s Molly?”

  I studied my brother. “Thomas, you’re looking at her.”

  “She started spontaneously adapting a few days ago,” Billy said. “Only random features at first, not much control—didn’t tell me until we were down here. Didn’t want her trip to see you guys spoiled.”

  Thomas still looked skeptical. “Not possible. She’s too young.”

  Mark went to the fridge and got Thomas a beer. “There have been a few previous cases of precocious adaptors. I was early myself. It’s rare, but not impossible.”

  Thomas twisted off the bottle cap and took a long swig. Shook his head as he finished swallowing. “But an ape? That is impossible. Sorry. Nice try, but I’m not buying it.” He went back to the entry hall and hollered up the stairs. “Molly! Hey, Molls! It’s me, Thomas. Come on down and greet your favorite relative.”

  Molly stirred in my lap at the sound of her name reverberating through the condo. Mark went to explain things to Thomas; I stood and Billy took his sister, who was suddenly all squirming arms and legs. She clutched him and buried her little simian face in his chest.

  “It’s okay, Molls. It’s only Thomas. He’s here to help.” Billy walked back and forth with her, patting her back.

  “You’re going to make a wonderful daddy someday,” I said, just to be evil. I know, I know. Rotten to tease him under the circumstances. But fun.

  A look of horror spread over his face. “Bite your tongue. Just looking after my sisters—and you—is enough to drive me to drink. Last thing I’ll ever need is a rug rat of my own.”

  Thomas and Mark rejoined us. Thomas still looked skeptical. He approached Billy and laid a hesitant hand on Molly’s back. “Moll? Is that really you?”

  Molly grinned, baring all of her teeth, and nodded wildly. She reached for Thomas’s hand, hooked the tips of his four fingers with the tips of hers, and made thumb-wrestling motions, only she couldn’t reach his thumb with her itty-bitty orangutan one.

  Thomas paled and plopped into the chair I had just vacated. He was the one who’d taught each younger sibling and cousin, in turn, how to thumb wrestle. “My God. It is Molly.”

  “I thought we’d established that,” Mark said.

  “But … but it’s impossible. It can’t happen.” He shook his head as if his denial could change the situation.

  I slapped his shoulder lightly with the back of my hand. “Open your eyes, counselor. The evidence is before you.”

  “Eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable. You’re all having me on. You rented a monkey—”

  “Orangutan,” Billy said.

  “Whatever. You rented it and trained it. You’re getting even with me because I bailed on the party last year, aren’t you? Billy? Am I right? You’re still ticked because I never paid you for filling in for me.”

  “No,” Billy said. “Well, yes—I am still ticked about that, but no, I am not playing some elaborate practical joke on you to get even.”

  Molly, impatient with the turn of conversation, wiggled until she’d detached herself from Billy and scurried on all fours to my desk. We’d taken the oversize clothes off her, so she moved with no impediments. If she managed to change back into herself, there were plenty of blankets nearby to preserve her modesty.

  She pulled herself onto my desk chair and carefully selected a pen from the mosaic-tile holder she’d made me for my last birthday. The rest of us watched in fascination as she took a piece of paper from a drawer, laid it on the blotter, and began to write. Her hand movements were awkward, but she finally managed to turn her initial scribbles into shaky-looking letters.

  By this time we were all standing around her, staring over her shoulders.

  IM MOLLY U BIG DOOF.

  Thomas read it aloud, coloring a bit at the last part. Molly climbed into his arms, hugging him around the neck. Thomas really was a favorite of hers—she’d had him dancing to her tune from the time she could talk.

  He hugged her back carefully. “Molly, what have you done?” he said, voice low.

  *

  Thomas stayed through dinner, holding Molly on his lap so she could reach the table easily. Her long arms came in handy for grabbing spring rolls off everyone else’s plates after she’d finished her own. After the first five minutes, Billy stopped making cracks about her having the manners of an ape, and we all let her eat whatever struck her fancy.

  James couldn’t come until the next day, so we decided to get together again then. Thomas headed back to his office to meet with a client who couldn’t come in during regular office hours, and Mark had a mysterious appointment downtown. Of course, all of his appointments were shrouded with intrigue. For all I knew he had a hot date lined up. I liked to think a certain steamy kiss we’d shared on my recent unexpected adventure in Sweden had made as big an impression on him as it had on me, but I doubted it.

  When Billy took a snoozing Molly upstairs to my guest room to tuck her in, I walked Mark to the door, willing to pretend our little breach in protocol on the sailboat off the coast of Gotland had never happened, if that was the way he wanted it.

  “Quite a day, huh, Howdy?” he said, reverting to the childhood nickname my grandfather had saddled me with. Yeah, yeah … Howdy Doody of freckle fame. I still had my share, which I’m told are becoming, mainly by people who aren’t afflicted with them.

  My chuckle was dry. “You could say that. Not exactly what I was expecting when I got up this morning.”

  “Don’t worry—Molly will be fine. James will find a way to fix her.” He reached out to ruffle my hair, as was his longtime habit, but for some reason pulled my head closer at the last second and kissed me, right on the mouth. It was brief and innocent—definitely not like our last one—but it still gave me goose bumps and made my breath catch. He stroked my hair and gifted me with one of his smiles. “See you later. Sleep well.”

  “You too,” I managed to push past my stunned lips as he left.

  Sleep?

  Chapter 5

  “He knew I was watching.” Billy’s voice preceded him down the stairs.


  Startled, I turned and looked up at him, brain still awhirl. “What?”

  “When he kissed you. He heard me close the door to Molly’s room.” His voice remained neutral, but his eyes were narrower than usual, his black lashes shadowing their usual sparkle.

  “That’s silly. Besides, it was just a good-night peck. Hardly qualifies as a kiss at all.” I shrugged and looked away.

  “No, he was warning me off in his own inimitable style.”

  “Are you saying he kissed me just to make a point to you? Gee, thanks.”

  He paused. Sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not just that, no. True, he doesn’t want you getting involved with big, bad me. And really, who can blame him? I suppose my reputation isn’t exactly sterling—”

  I snorted, and not the delicate kind.

  He quirked his mouth but didn’t try to defend himself. “I think he’s also a little bent at the thought of losing your undivided adulation. Could be he’s considering making your fondest wish come true.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not.” He took my hand and pulled me to him, resting his chin on my head. “Look, cuz, if you want me to back off, give you some time to figure things out with the spook, just tell me.”

  I leaned into him, confused as hell. Billy drove me crazy, but he could be so understanding sometimes. He was the best friend I had. Did I want to risk losing that because of a sudden freakish attraction to him?

  “Maybe that would be a good idea…” I started.

  He pushed me away but held on to my shoulders, looking positively incredulous. “What? How can you say that?”

  “But you said—”

  “Don’t be silly. I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then why’d you say it?”

  “I thought it would make me appear noble.”

  I pulled away from him, exasperated. “Only when it’s sincere, you idiot.”

  “I can do sincere.” He set his mouth in soft lines and hit me with the Doyle eyes. Yep, he had sincere down pat.