Twin Surprise

by Jacqueline Diamond

  She escaped his grasp. “Not in front of everyone! And why’d you call me Cinderella?”

  Derek grinned. “Because you have a wicked stepmother.”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “But no stepsisters. Or brothers.”

  “The comparison still applies.” He’d heard the story in bits and pieces. “She persuaded your father to cut you off after they married, right?”

  “No,” Marta replied. “When I turned twenty-one, he felt that since I wasn’t a dependent anymore, state aid should pay for my rehab.”

  “Great move, leaving his daughter to fend for herself.” Derek frowned at this Aunt Bling, who remained oblivious. “Meanwhile his new wife is wearing his bank account on her earlobes.”

  Marta looked at him in a manner that Derek would have considered amusing had not his tiny antagonist appeared so earnest. “It’s Dad’s hard-earned money. I’m just glad he met a woman who makes him happy. He suffered a lot after my mom died.”

  She had an endearingly warm heart even toward those who’d treated her badly, which stirred Derek’s anger on her behalf. Still, he had to admit, he’d sometimes been accused of hard-heartedness himself. He always told women in advance that he wasn’t the settling-down type. If they chose to ignore the warning, he couldn’t be held responsible.

  Marta, however, fell into the category of people under Derek’s protection. Or, at least, of people he’d protect if they required it.

  “You should stand up to your father,” he persisted. “That necklace she’s sporting could buy you a master’s degree.”

  Marta bristled. “I’m standing up to you. Back off, buster.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” He took her words literally, executing a brief retreat and a bow. Then he caught her again and whirled her toward the dance floor. “This time I’m not accepting no for an answer.”

  Apparently Marta decided to relax and enjoy the moment. Her whole being seemed to respond to the catchy music as they navigated between tables toward the dance floor. And, for once, his body cooperated, as well.

  They shimmied past Lois Lamont, the police chief’s assistant, who favored them with a thumbs-up. Derek responded with a wink.

  When Marta chuckled at his clowning, her energy lifted his spirits. At that moment, he actually felt twenty-five again.

  They reached the dance floor as the band shifted into another catchy tune. Despite a few missteps, the two of them finished the number in fine form.

  Both were flushed with their efforts. Marta exuded such a natural appeal that Derek wondered why the other men in the room didn’t swarm over to demand the next turn.

  He eased her off the dance floor. “What do you say we hit the buffet?”

  “Sure. I’m starving.”

  They filled their plates and browsed the tables in their roles as best man and maid of honor. Derek traded quips with his former supervisor in the detective bureau, Captain Frank Ferguson, who sat with Chief Will Lyons and retired sergeant Mack Crandall, Hale’s father.

  At another table, Marta introduced several of Connie’s employees, including an attractive twenty-year-old with long brown hair who studied him with interest. A pretty girl, but too young to interest Derek.

  Finally the two of them settled near the newlyweds. Hale appeared in his element as host of a large party, and Connie seemed more relaxed than she’d been in ages. She didn’t so much as frown when her ex-husband, Joel, swung into a chair beside her.

  The once-feuding exes had achieved détente a few months earlier, to everyone’s relief. Derek didn’t understand the point of such squabbling. Once the excitement went out of a relationship, people ought to say farewell and move on.

  “Let’s see that ring,” Joel teased. “I’ll bet it’s not half as nice as the one I bought you.”

  Connie displayed her fingers gracefully. To Derek, the rock looked big enough to decimate a guy’s life savings.

  “Cost me a bundle,” Hale confirmed heartily. “Worth every penny.”

  “Hey, I liked the one Joel bought her,” Rachel chipped in from further down the table. She’d borrowed that ring when first engaged to her husband.

  “Rachel has good taste,” Joel responded. “And my sister’s thrilled that you gave her the old ring. Nice gesture, Connie.”

  “She mentioned that she lost her wedding ring on vacation this summer,” the bride explained.

  All this camaraderie would once have filled Derek with a sense of belonging. On entering police work, he’d felt as if were joining a real family, one that suited him a lot better than the one into which he’d been born. Yet today, as on many days in the past year, the banter flowed around him at a distance, an invisible wall muting sounds and blurring images.

  Strange how just a few minutes in a doctor’s office could change a guy’s perspective.

  It had also altered his career. As soon as he’d informed Human Resources of the diagnosis, the powers that be had stuck Derek in a front-office job requiring less physical exertion. He would rather face a weekly shoot-out than shuffle paper, but his friends, unaware of the true circumstances, considered this a promotion.

  He abandoned his ruminations as Yolanda Rios arrived. “Aha, the two people I most want to talk to,” she declared, pinning him and Marta with her gaze.

  “A pleasure to see you, Yolanda.” He rose and fetched an extra chair. Their companions shifted to clear space.

  “Thanks. I’ve got an idea and I’d appreciate feedback from all of you.” The widow pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “And don’t you go anywhere, Joel Simmons!”

  The lieutenant paused halfway to his feet and sat down again as if he were still a student in Yolanda’s high-school history class. “I was going to refill your glass of punch.”

  “It can wait.” She folded her hands on the table.

  “What’s up?” Marta asked.

  Yolanda included them all in her gaze. “To start with, although I hate to break the news on such a festive occasion, the city’s cut funding for Villa Corazon.” Villa Corazon was her homework center. The name, which meant House of the Heart in Spanish, was a play on its location in the town of Villazon.

  “That’s outrageous!” Connie radiated indignation. “If you need me to organize a protest, I’d be glad to.”

  The older woman shook her head. “If we demand a bigger share of a shrinking budget, that puts us in competition with other worthwhile programs. I favor a more proactive approach.”

  Marta regarded Yolanda expectantly. The two spent a lot of hours together at the center, Derek assumed, but she didn’t appear to know what was coming. “What do you have in mind?”

  “A fund-raiser.” With all attention fixed on her, she announced, “I propose we hold a bachelor auction. There’s no shortage of attractive males in town or generous and assertive women.”

  Startled expressions and a few chuckles greeted this statement. “Wild!” Rachel said. “I’d go for that. If I was single, I mean.”

  “Why not?” Hale agreed. “A romantic night on the town with your favorite hottie. Not me, of course.”

  “Isn’t that kind of…old-fashioned?” Derek refused to disclose his personal reservations about parading in front of a group. Surely the center could find a more dignified means of raising money.

  Joel let out a hoot. “I should think you’d be the first to volunteer!”

  “You’re an excellent prospect also, Lieutenant Simmons,” Yolanda observed.

  “I’m divorced, not a bachelor,” he declared. He hadn’t expected to get drafted, apparently.

  “If she excludes divorced men, she’d have to rule out two-thirds of her prospects,” Hale countered. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken.”

  “Heck, no.” Joel appeared to be searching frantically for an escape route. “Tell you what—I’ll emcee the darned thing.”

  “Hale can tackle that duty, since he’s married.” Yolanda looked at the groom. “All right?”

  “Glad to,” he said.

>   “Lieutenant, can I count you in?” Yolanda prompted.

  Joel yielded to the inevitable. “Fine. I’ll be glad to go on the block for charity.”

  The older woman turned to Derek. “As will, I presume, the city’s community relations officer.”

  She’d cornered him, Derek thought. The PD could use positive ink for a change. Besides, a refusal would invite questions he preferred to avoid.

  “I was about to offer my services,” he responded dryly. “I enjoy meeting new ladies.”

  “You mean new victims?” Rachel teased.

  “Anyone who bids for him hardly qualifies as a victim,” Marta responded loyally.

  “Exactly.” Derek hoped the easy response hid his qualms.

  More voices joined in, adding to the roster. Rachel’s husband mentioned an old friend, a child psychologist named Mike Federov. Hale listed a couple of other officers and suggested contacting the fire department.

  The conversation drifted to the terms of the auction purchase. An afternoon or evening—minimum three hours—that might range from a lavish date to a simple outing. Whatever suited the bidder and biddee, with the man paying the cost of the date.

  The whole thing sounded very civilized, except that as more men stopped by and offered their names, Derek detected a competitive mood building. Joel went so far as to recommend they wear swim trunks.

  Yolanda nixed the idea. “We’re a children’s center. Although I doubt there’ll be kids at this event, I’d like to keep things respectable.”

  “I hope that doesn’t preclude a little showing off to get the highest bid of the night.” Joel shot those challenging words at Derek. “Not that I expect much competition.”

  Rachel whistled her approval. “That sounds like a dare.”

  Derek shrugged. “He’s deluded.”

  Marta, he noticed, looked wistful. Now, what was that about?

  “Would jeans and a T-shirt be too casual?” he asked her.

  She studied him thoughtfully. “How about your uniform? Women love a man in uniform.”

  “The chief might not go for that,” Hale interposed. “Especially if the Villazon Voice takes photos of our guys onstage.”

  Derek shrugged. “Either a suit or jeans will be fine.”

  “Then I’m definitely leaving you in the dust,” Joel replied. “I’m thinking about exercise shorts and a mesh shirt.”

  Connie rolled her eyes. Rachel uttered a woo-woo noise.

  “I’d like to schedule this a couple of weeks from now, toward the end of October,” Yolanda said. “Before people blow their money on the holidays.”

  “What a great gift for the single gal on your list,” put in Rachel’s husband, Russ.

  “I’m betting plenty of single gals will buy themselves a gift that night,” Connie mused. “Derek, you should charm Tracy Johnson into bidding on you and writing a story. She owes the department a little boost.” Tracy, editor and reporter for the weekly Voice, had long been one of the police department’s biggest gadflies.

  “The chief would love reading a detailed front-page account of Derek’s shortcomings,” Joel joked.

  “If she wrote an article about spending the night with me, she’d have to write a book,” Derek responded.

  A chorus of good-natured catcalls greeted this boast. Although pleased at scoring points, in truth Derek loathed the prospect of being bid on like a prize bull. Worse, of risking an awkward stumble in front of an audience.

  Well, he’d bluff his way through the ordeal. And who knew? Maybe he’d find the woman of his dreams.

  But she’d be temporary. Because these days, that was all he wanted or needed.

  Chapter Two

  Marta wasn’t certain the Halloween costumes had been a good idea. Sure, they looked creative and colorful in catalogs, but that didn’t mean they’d sell in a hospital gift shop, especially since she’d unthinkingly assumed staff members would be among the main purchasers.

  She’d argued back and forth with herself before ordering a small selection. On the one hand, patients arriving for major surgery might not appreciate seeing admitting clerks garbed as princesses or superheroes. Plus, the garments couldn’t be sterilized. On the other hand, surely the denizens of the children’s floor and the maternity ward deserved a little fun.

  Ultimately, the employees would reach their own decisions. She’d already received an okay from the administrator.

  With the lobby nearly empty on Thursday morning a week after the wedding, she used the time to snap a portable trellis-type support into place near the front of the shop. Perched on a stepstool equipped with side rails, Marta hoisted an array of capes and tunics into place.

  She was almost finished when she spotted Elise Masterson striding out of an elevator. Even a uniform couldn’t hide the patrolwoman’s feminine shape, and scraping her honey-blonde hair into a bun barely muted the effect of her attractive features. Only her habitual scowl managed to quell the interested glance an orderly aimed in her direction.

  Although Elise radiated Leave me alone! vibes, men continued to hit on her. Two years ago, she’d fended off the advances of then police chief Vince Borrego. Elise’s formal complaint had sparked an investigation that led to the chief’s early retirement and pitted several of the senior officers against her. Joel and Hale, who’d testified on her behalf, had also taken heat. The damage inflicted on the department’s reputation by that incident, as well as another involving prisoner abuse, still hadn’t entirely healed.

  Marta was distressed to observe scrapes on the officer’s cheek and arms. “What happened to you?” she asked when Elise approached.

  “Grabbed a toddler off a second-floor balcony and fell onto a rosebush. The nurse gave me a tetanus shot. The kid’s fine, by the way.” The officer paused to examine the costume display. “Do you honestly expect to sell these?”

  “Sure.” Marta refused to let the other woman’s negativity discourage her. “Can I interest you in a set of fairy wings?”

  “As if I’d be caught dead in getup like that!” Elise snorted.

  “Seriously, we should all wear costumes tomorrow night at the auction. I mean, Halloween is next week.” As volunteers at Villa Corazon, Elise and Marta had offered to assist at the auction, for which they expected a capacity crowd. “They’d add to the festive air.”

  “I’ll be there to help direct traffic, not put on a show” came the dour response. “Speaking of shows, I’m curious to see how those macho types react to being ogled and whistled at.”

  “They ought to love it.” Marta assumed Derek would be in his element.

  “They imagine they’ll love it. In reality, that kind of treatment is demeaning.” Bitterness underscored Elise’s tone. “I spent my high-school years playing up my appearance. What did it get me? Pursued by guys with sex on their minds and resented by the girls.”

  As an adult, Elise appeared to have gone overboard in the opposite direction. Marta gathered that, except for tutoring on Saturdays, the officer spent most of her free hours at the gym. She could use both a more positive mind-set and a few girlfriends.

  Impulsively, Marta said, “If you aren’t busy on Sunday, why don’t you join Connie and Rachel and me for dinner.” Fearing Elise was about to refuse, she added, “It’s my birthday. But don’t bring a gift! We’re just getting together for fun.”

  The woman’s expression softened. “I’d love to. I don’t get out nearly enough. But aren’t you having a party?”

  The previous year, for Marta’s thirtieth birthday, her friends had outdone themselves with an ice-cream potluck and a ragtime-piano player. She didn’t expect that sort of effort this year, especially in view of the fact that both had married and become adoptive mothers within the past six months. “It’s my thirty-first birthday. Not a milestone like last year.”

  “I appreciate the invitation,” Elise said. “Where and what time?”

  Marta was providing details when a movement by the elevator bank caught her eye. She c
ouldn’t deny a tingle of excitement at the sight of Derek’s familiar saunter.

  Since the wedding, he’d stopped by to say hello a few times but seemed distracted. She’d missed his laughter and joking.

  Perhaps dancing together that evening hadn’t registered on his radar. For Marta, the experience had fueled her dreams ever since. Despite how often she told herself that it meant nothing, that he’d singled her out because they were both wedding attendants and not for any personal reason, she relished the memory.

  She’d dared to fantasize for a few insane hours about bidding for him at the auction. The point was to raise money for the center, and no one would take her interest seriously, least of all Derek. Still, if her true feelings showed on her face, she might permanently damage their easy camaraderie. Besides, who could afford him? Books and tuition, combined with Southern California’s notoriously high rents, already strained her budget. Whoever was going to win a fabulous night with Sergeant Hit-and-Run, it wouldn’t be her.

  Elise indicated a college-age volunteer, who beamed in Derek’s direction while ferrying a wheelchair across the lobby. “It’s disgusting the way women fall for that alley cat.”

  “I can’t understand it, either.” Fortunately, Elise missed the irony in Marta’s comment.

  Derek didn’t appear to notice the admiring volunteer. Instead, he paused to speak to a middle-aged couple waiting on a couch. On a visit to the gift shop earlier to buy a magazine, they’d explained that their son was in surgery.

  “I’m heading out on patrol,” Elise said. “If I delay too long, the guys might think I’m really injured.”

  “You are really injured!”

  “Just bruised. Trauma on the job requires a trip to the psychologist.” Her friend shuddered. “Don’t care to get my head shrunk, thank you.” She scooted off.

  Derek was still conversing with the couple. Torn between an eagerness to talk to him and a determination to quit breaking her own heart, Marta resumed arranging the costumes. She studied a pirate hat and eye patch, trying to decide where to hang the costume.

  “Planning to wear that?” Derek’s voice startled her. He must have sneaked up on her.