1
“I must be insane.
I really must be.”
“What about the
cameras?” Weslyn Moon glanced up at the small, black box hunkering in the
corner, but didn’t see any tell-tale red light to get a clue as to its working
order.
Her current
partner in crime jerked and flinched. “They’re just dummies. Not real. Jesus,
I’m insane.”
“How many times
are you going to repeat yourself?” Pausing out of pure reflex, Weslyn looked
down a dark, deserted hallway. Nobody there, nobody anywhere, except Doctor
George Milliken who was ready to have kittens on the floor of the Barre Birth
and Reproductive Center. Which, all things considered, seemed fitting.
Weslyn was just a
little creeped out by the nighttime hush of the clinic. Used to living as
anonymously as possible, predominantly in cities where people went unnoticed by
law enforcement every day, she’d been unprepared for the quiet she’d found in
Vermont. She didn’t like it all. Silence made her feel exposed and George’s
choppy breathing was making her paranoid, but this was where the man worked, so
Weslyn had little choice in facilities.
“I can’t believe
we’re doing this,” George muttered.
“Ooh, variety.
Nice. Much better than repeating yourself incessantly.” Weslyn tiptoed behind
the doctor, following as he made a sharp left into a bland office decorated
with a table, a chair and an oversized, dull and lifeless beach-view watercolor
that made her heart break into a thousand pieces. “You know, with my eyes
closed , I could paint you something way better than that monstrosity.”
“That’s how we got
into this mess in the first place,” George snapped. Without giving Weslyn a
chance to set his delusions straight—because she was about to point out that
he’d definitely had a starring role in the prequel to that night’s caper—he
threw a heavy binder onto the desk. “Here, look through this and pick someone
out.”
“Wow. Made to
order, huh?”
“Not exactly. You
get whichever specimen you choose, but anything that goes wrong is on you.”
George suddenly gripped his hair. “This is just going much faster than it
should and—”
“I took the
medicine you sent. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah? Great,
wonderful.” Doctor George shook his head. “One fucking secret and it all comes
down to this. Look, Moon, I’m just telling you upfront that I have no control
over the outcome, and the way you’re going about all this—”
“Yeah, yeah, I
heard you the first twenty times you told me. It might not work.”
“And I’m not at
fault! You can’t come back here thinking to do this again.”
Weslyn cocked her
head and took a long look at the doctor. His eyes were wide and his skin was
pasty in the glow of the few overheads he’d dared to keep on. George was a step
away from total meltdown, more paranoid than even Weslyn, sweaty and shaking,
his breathing a touch too fast and his pulse pounding hard in his neck.
Poor guy—not that
Weslyn felt all that sorry for him. After all, he gave her the tools for his
own downfall. She wished him well and hoped he didn’t get busted, but only
because him getting caught would probably get her caught, too.
“We’re straight,
George,” she finally said. “I won’t come back here looking for your help again,
and I won’t have to. This is going to work.”
“Nineteen
percent—”
“I know the odds.”
She waved off his warning. “You’ve told me a hundred times. I got it, George, I
really do. Now, let me pick out a baby daddy already.”
The doctor glanced
at his extremely expensive watch. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
“We’ve got all
night, George.”
“The security
makes rounds, Moon. Plus I have to thaw the sperm, fertilize your egg and
implant—Jesus! Just get on with it!”
Rolling her eyes,
Weslyn turned back to the binder and started paging through. Each thin section
was devoted to a single man and fronted by a facial close-up in full color
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