The Masked Lovebird Read Free

at the desk and was ushered quickly into an examination room. It wasn’t long before the situation was remedied. The egg was dislodged and the bird, though still stressed and lying on the cage floor, was obviously feeling better. Even so, Fiona’s stress level was through the roof. She supposed, after a hot bath and double-size martini, her heartbeat would return to normal. Hopefully.
    Fiona had the receptionist phone for a cab and sat in the waiting area, alternating between watching for the taxi and enjoying the other animals in carriers or on leashes. She was the only one with a bird. Wait! Hadn’t Devon said he worked at a clinic? Yes, but he was a janitor. Janitors didn’t usually show themselves in the front of the place—at least none she’d ever seen. So, she watched and every time a door to the back opened, she squinted trying to see if he was there.
    Squinting through doorways was no way to be proactive. If Devon was here—if they had ever heard of him—she wouldn’t find out by peering into places she didn’t belong. Fiona rose and went to the desk.
    “Hi. I wonder if…do you have someone working here by the name of Devon Ainslee?”
    The blonde receptionist wearing a pink smock with puppies imprinted on it frowned.
    “He’s a janitor,” Fiona added.
    “I am new here. I don’t know the staff who work out back. Lemme find somebody who can help.” She turned away. It took several minutes to locate someone who wasn’t busy. Fiona spent the time racing to the front door to make sure the cab hadn’t arrived. Finally, a man dressed in blue and looking quite harried, came to the desk. Fiona repeated the question about Devon. He gave the same frown as the receptionist and began to shake his head. That’s when all hell, as they say, broke loose.
    A woman burst through the front door carrying a small dog and trailing blood on the otherwise immaculate floor. Every employee rushed to her aid. Fiona was left standing by herself, except for a few startled clients, in the foyer.
    A double beep sounded from out front. Her cab had arrived. Oh well. He probably didn’t work here anyway. Besides, neither employee appeared to recognize Devon’s name. She walked dejectedly to the cab, a bit confused at her emotions because things with the bird had turned out favorably. Sure, she’d lost the egg, but there would be more.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Devon gathered together the edges of the wastebasket liner and pulled. Suction kept it from releasing easily but Devon wasn’t in a hurry. He spent the ensuing seconds watching a couple of robins hop on the freshly mown lawn behind the clinic. Finally the bag slid from the wastebasket. He tied a knot and hefted in over the edge of the dumpster. It made a hollow thump atop the others he’d brought earlier. Seemed like there was a never-ending supply of trash. He grabbed the wastebasket with one hand and his cane with the other and started for the back door. A cab stood out front. The driver was holding the door for a woman holding a small bird cage. The lady wasn’t familiar, at least not in the way most people identify someone. He didn’t know the hair or the clothes. But he knew the way she moved.
    Could it be?
    Devon dropped the wastebasket and hobbled as fast as a person with a bum leg can, over two hundred feet of grass tufts and dog turds, both hard and soft.
    The cabbie shut the door. Devon called out.
    The cabbie glanced his way—probably saw a disheveled madman chasing after him. He raced around and got in the car.
    Devon called again, stopped and waved the cane. Hobbled closer without it. Twenty feet. That was all that separated him from knowing.
    He wiggled the cane in the air. Devon flung himself ahead six more steps without the cane. Less than ten feet. Hurry. “Stop!”
    The cabbie peered sideways. Devon took another step. And fell flat on his face.
    The cabbie flashed him the bird and gunned the engine. The taxi roared out of sight.
    Devon flew to his