I guess I understood that. After all, I had a pet jaguar at home. When I first rescued Kitty from a drug lord, I’d consulted various experts, and the final consensus was that he couldn’t go back to the Amazon. And also he thought he was a dog. We’d built him a huge cat house at the back of Riverley Hall, but he spent most of his time curled up in the kitchen with my elderly Doberman.
Bradley lined up for a selfie, but the shriek when he activated the front-facing camera on his iPhone made everyone in the glasshouse freeze. Everyone except Jimbo, that was. The monkey jerked the leash out of the keeper’s hands, made a grab for Bradley’s sunglasses, and ran straight to the nearest tree.
On second thoughts, I preferred the venomous centipedes.
“I’m so sorry!” the keeper gasped. “Jimbo’s never done anything like this before.”
Of course he hadn’t, but he’d also never met Bradley. And I had to hand it to the monkey—he looked good in Gucci.
Bradley made a grab for the leash, missed, then stumbled backwards with his arms windmilling as a caiman leapt towards the glass at the front of its tank and snapped. Jimbo bolted into the upper branches as Bradley landed in something squishy. Please say that was just mud. If it was monkey poop, he could get a cab back home.
Carmen snapped a picture, laughing, and Bradley turned on her, all indignant.
“Don’t just stand there taking photos! Do something.”
“What do you want me to do? Shoot it down?”
Everybody within earshot gasped, and Carmen raised her hands.
“I was joking.”
I mostly believed that. Mostly.
Jimbo leapt to the next tree, swung on a vine Tarzan-style, and landed on the railing of the upper walkway. A group of people who’d been watching the drama unfold screamed and scattered, but not before Jimbo managed to grab a baseball cap and a gold necklace to go with his shades. I was going to hazard a wild guess and say his previous owner had been a rapper rather than a pop star.
The monkey paused long enough to put the chain around his neck, and then he headed for the parakeet enclosure. I’d say he must have lived in a house before because he sure got the door open quickly. A whole flock of parakeets flew out, and I knew from experience how difficult those little bastards were to catch.
A trio of wild-eyed teenagers wearing SciPark polo shirts ran in our direction as the keeper frantically scanned the trees for the bloody monkey. Whoever said never to work with children or animals was absolutely right, and if they’d ever met Bradley, they’d have added him to that list as well.
“We’ll have to evacuate the rainforest,” one of the rangers said as a parakeet swooped past inches from his head.
Bradley was already halfway to the door. I picked up the bags of shopping, and that’s the story of how we got kicked out of the monkey house.
CHAPTER 3
BRADLEY HAD PRACTICALLY brought luggage with him, so while he went to the bathroom to fix his hair and change into fresh clothes because whatever was on his ass didn’t smell so good, the rest of us ventured farther into the park. I was strongly considering breaking my “no alcohol” pledge. Surely one gin and tonic this early in the day would be okay?
Fuck, Bradley had turned me into a morning drinker.
“Want the wheel,” Tabby announced. At three years old, she had the determination to rival most teenagers, but her manners were sadly lacking. “Bradley said wheel.”
Mack had downloaded the app by that point—with her being Blackwood’s number-one IT geek, I’d have expected nothing less—and while the rest of us were experiencing nature’s wonders in the pseudo-rainforest, she’d been busy scrolling through the features.
“Y’all, the top-rated restaurant in this place is right next to the wheel, and according to the blurb, it has a terrace and a cocktail menu.”
I crouched down in front of my niece. “Going on the wheel’s a great idea, sweetie. Your mama can’t wait to take you.”
“Mom, can I go on the wheel too?” Josh asked.
Carmen smiled at him. “Of course you can. Ana would love it if you went with her.”
Ana’s jaw clenched, but she wouldn’t turn down a kid.
“I’ll buy you a cocktail,” Carmen promised Ana.
“This might not be so bad,” I said. “The wheel’s almost in the centre of the park. If we start there with alcohol, by the end of the afternoon, we’ll be sober and also near the cars for a quick getaway.”
The other girls nodded their agreement, and Mack pointed us in the right direction. Not that we needed much help. The centrepiece of the park was impossible to miss, the towering silver globe designed by some fancy architect I’d never heard of. They’d named it “Inside Out.” On the outside, it was the earth, and on the inside, it was space. If you queued up for long enough, you could traipse through a tunnel billed as a wormhole and ride a gravity-powered roller coaster that took you on a tour of the Milky Way.
“We can do this, people.” Dan checked her watch as the kids got distracted by a giant model of a human being. According to the signs, you were meant to walk into it through the mouth, and I dreaded to think where you came out. “Only six more hours to go.”
Six more hours… I guess it could have been worse. I could have been staking out a Taliban stronghold, or trekking across Siberia, or skulking around a secure facility with armed guards at every turn. Or shopping. This was better than shopping.
The staff at the Steampunk Saloon welcomed us with open arms and bar snacks. Dan’s boys headed for the space sphere, where the line snaked out the door at the bottom and wound through the surrounding grassy park. A handful of groups had already set out picnic blankets, chairs, and even an inflatable sunlounger, although I couldn’t see them staying there for long if the black clouds on the horizon crept much closer. Ana headed towards the Ferris wheel with Tabby and Josh, and thankfully the line for that was much shorter. On a scale of bad to terrible, I figured her mood would rate as “foul” by the time we left at the end of the day.
The drinks menu contained a variety of mixological delights. Dan ordered a Steam Engine, Mack picked a Clockwork Orange, and Carmen decided on a Molecular Marvel.
“And for you?” the waitress asked me.
“Two Death in the Afternoons. Or should that be Deaths in the Afternoon?”
She giggled. “Two? Are you sure? Those have absinthe in them.”
“One’s for my friend. And could you bring a few bags of chips?”
A blur of turquoise streaking across the plaza below caught my eye. Good grief. Bradley had tamed his hair, but now he’d found a matching jumpsuit and he looked like a speeding crayon. Somehow, he managed to spot Ana in a sea of hundreds and made a beeline straight for her, squeezing under the barrier near the front of the line. Josh unhooked Bradley’s manbag when it snagged on the railing.
“Uh, excuse me?” I waved the waitress back over. “Would you mind making that three Deaths?”
Ana wasn’t driving, and she’d sure as hell need the drinks. At least the gondolas were enclosed glass. I’d have feared for Bradley’s safety otherwise. When they climbed on board, he was yack-yack-yacking and Ana’s expression was blacker than the ever-nearing storm clouds. Hmm. If it started raining, would Bradley let us go home early?