Twin Surprise

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Marta liked Ben and found him eager to please—everyone except Chief Lyons. Father and son always seemed to rub each other wrong.

  “Where are the tickets and my cash box?” she asked.

  “Heading our way.” Yolanda indicated Rachel, who’d just emerged from the office wing with an armload of stuff.

  “Perfect timing.” With Yolanda in charge, Marta had known the event would be smoothly organized. “Good luck tonight.”

  “We won’t need it. Our bachelors are fabulous.” The older woman winked. “I’m tempted to try for one myself.”

  “Go for it!” Too bad they hadn’t been able to persuade any older men to volunteer. Yolanda, a widow with two grown sons, deserved a second chance at love, Marta thought as she joined Rachel.

  “You’ll be a great ticket seller,” the tall policewoman said on their way to the foyer. “You’ll put everyone in a generous mood.”

  “Thanks. What’s your job tonight?” Marta asked.

  “Directing traffic. We’re reserving the lot for the elderly and handicapped, and steering the rest of the cars across the road.” Rachel’s blue blazer and slacks didn’t exactly constitute a uniform but, coupled with a large flashlight, gave her an official air.

  “Isn’t Elise supposed to help?” Marta recalled the other policewoman mentioning that.

  “She got stuck at the jail doing paperwork for a perp. Hope she gets free soon.”

  Rachel didn’t sound concerned. She wasn’t easily fazed and never had been.

  Nearly a dozen years ago, waiting to cross the street to attend police-science classes at college, she’d witnessed a car speeding through a red light and smashing into the passenger side of Connie’s sedan. She’d waded in to rescue Marta and, in the long months that followed, had joined Connie as Marta’s support system.

  Now Rachel strode jauntily out into the October evening. Sitting alone at a card table, Marta double-checked the change in the cash box to ensure that it tallied with the amount Yolanda had written on a sheet. Then she settled into her seat.

  Her thoughts flew to Derek. Last night, his concern about her scars had revealed yet another layer to his character. Beneath that tantalizing surface lay a truly kind soul.

  Yesterday had also marked the first time Marta had experienced the man and his sex appeal at such close range. Easy to understand how women succumbed.

  Gratefully, she broke off that train of thought as a radiant Connie breezed in to say hello. The new bride been walking on air since her honeymoon in Lake Tahoe.

  “Hale’s fussing with his microphone,” she announced fondly. “I’m glad he doesn’t act as emcee for a living!”

  “If he did, he’d be used to it,” Marta pointed out. “Are the other guys here?” She kept her tone casual.

  “A couple of them. Derek hasn’t showed yet, but it’s early, and he’s on last.” Despite Marta’s efforts at discretion, Connie had long ago learned of her crush. Fortunately, she was too tactful to tease her about it. “Someone should arrive any minute to take tickets at the inner door.”

  “They won’t get past me, and besides, I doubt any of our guests will sneak in.” Nevertheless, Marta would appreciate the company.

  “Elise is still joining us for your birthday dinner on Sunday, isn’t she?” Connie continued.

  “I hope so.”

  “I’m glad you invited her. I’ve been wanting to get better acquainted.” When her phone rang, Connie peered at the display. “It’s Hale. He probably messed up his tie or something. Catch you later!” In she went.

  Marta tried to squash a tiny selfish streak that wished her friends were raising their usual fuss about her birthday. Such celebrations, for each of them, had assumed added importance after Marta’s brush with death. But that was ages ago, and newlyweds had more important matters on their minds.

  Zandy Watts, Connie’s partner in the new Con Amore line of clothes and accessories, arrived to help collect tickets. Short, dark hair laced with gray complemented the fortyish woman’s strong features.

  “Plan to bid on a fella?” she asked Marta after they exchanged greetings.

  “I’m saving my money for tuition,” she responded. “How about you?”

  “Merely planning to enjoy the show, however much I get to see,” came the cheerful response.

  Audience members began trickling in. Small groups of women sauntered through the lobby, laughing and egging each other on. Couples entered as well, paying admission for the entertainment value, Marta supposed.

  She greeted many of them by name. Thanks to her job at the hospital and her volunteer activities, she had a wide circle of acquaintances.

  The bachelors must be entering through the alley door, as instructed, since she didn’t see any of them. There’d been a dozen at last count, ranging from emergency-services personnel to a teacher and an attorney.

  Marta felt nervous for Derek. Despite his assertive attitude and reputation as a charmer, he was a very private person. He probably wouldn’t have volunteered if not for his job.

  A flash of auburn hair distracted Marta from her musings. Andrea O’Reilly, a fire investigator, was fishing in her purse for her wallet. “Rachel’s got her hands full with the traffic out there,” she commented. “Isn’t anyone assisting her?”

  “Elise got held up at the station,” Marta explained.

  “I’d pitch in, but I’m determined to land a date with Derek.” She forked over a bill.

  A sharp pang rose unbidden. “You must like him a lot.”

  “Just interested in the bragging rights.” Cheerfully, Andie collected her change and whisked toward the interior.

  Marta suspected that, with a knockout like Andie, a date that began as a lark might easily develop into more. She didn’t want to care, but she did.

  Reporter Tracy Johnson popped in. At five-one, the same height as Marta, she looked tiny compared to most of the women. Her pointy chin and sharp nose gave her an elfin quality, offset tonight by the loose shoulder-length hair she usually wore in a ponytail.

  “Don’t tell me you plan to bid,” Marta said.

  Tracy ducked her head. “The publisher’s been pushing me to run more human-interest stuff. I figured I’d spend a couple of hours with the most macho hunk I could find and write a story about it.”

  Marta’s stomach knotted. “Anyone in particular?”

  “I considered Sergeant Reed, but that might be awkward, since I’m always contacting him for information,” the reporter said. “Any suggestions?”

  What a relief. The last thing Derek needed was a smart-aleck write-up in the paper.

  Marta blurted the first name that entered her mind. “How about Joel Simmons?”

  “Connie’s ex?” The newspaper office lay in the same shopping strip as Connie’s flagship store, so the women were well acquainted. “Sexy but macho, I hear. Just the type I’m interested in. The type that deserves a comeuppance.”

  “Maybe he’ll sweep you off your feet,” Marta countered.

  “Like that’s gonna happen!” Chuckling, Tracy moved on.

  Marta stayed busy selling admissions for a while. Only a dozen or so tickets remained by the time Chief Lyons arrived accompanied by Captain Ferguson, who’d served as interim chief before Lyons was hired. With the chief a widower and Frank divorced, they’d apparently fallen into the habit of attending public functions together.

  “Keeping an eye on the troops?” Marta joked.

  A broad-chested fellow with a thin mustache, the chief took her remark seriously. “Showing my approval of a good cause. Hope I don’t make the guys self-conscious.”

  His beefy companion gave Marta a nod. “You shouldn’t be stuck out here working. You do get to watch the fun, don’t you?”

  “Maybe a little,” she replied. “But I’m also cashier for the bids.”

  “Hardworking lady. Good for you.” He followed his boss inside.

  Zandy wandered over. “Not bad-looking.”

  “Captain Ferguson
?” Marta had never considered the fiftyish man in that light.

  “No, the chief. Not exactly approachable, though.”

  That was an understatement. The man defined “reserved.” “I can’t imagine going on a date with him!”

  “Still grieving over his wife, people say.” She’d died five years earlier. “Some folks never recover, I guess.” Zandy returned to her post.

  Inside, the crowd fell silent. Yolanda’s amplified voice drifted out, welcoming the audience and explaining the fund-raising purpose of the auction. Applause greeted her introduction of master of ceremonies Hale Crandall.

  Marta was debating whether she dared step away from the table, when a figure in jeans and a black leather jacket stalked into the foyer from outside. “I can’t imagine why Yolanda did that!” Elise Masterson snarled without preamble.

  “Did what?” Marta kept her voice low.

  Although the officer took the hint, her angry glances toward the front door spoke volumes. “I realize I’m late, but she didn’t have to call Vince Borrego to help direct traffic. He shouldn’t be within miles of the rest of the police force after the way he hit on me and publicly dishonored all of us.”

  Yolanda had summoned the town’s former, and still controversial, chief to assist with tonight’s traffic? As another of the tenants at her fourplex, he occasionally performed odd jobs for his landlady, and Rachel had needed help managing all those cars. Still, it said a lot about the older woman’s faith in the man.

  Now a private investigator, he’d attempted to fit into the town since his fall from grace. Although trouble seemed to dog his footsteps and plenty of people believed he would seize any chance to discomfit the new chief, he’d openly disavowed any desire for revenge.

  Furthermore, Vince’s daughter, Teri, who operated the home day-care center that Skip and Lauren attended, was very well liked. Married with two children, she had a warm personality and was close to her father.

  Elise, who’d suffered Vince’s inappropriate advances on duty, had never believed he’d truly reformed. It was understandable that she’d be furious at finding him in what, as a dedicated volunteer, she considered her territory.

  “Surely it’s just for tonight,” Marta ventured. “There’s no reason for him to be involved at the center any further.”

  “I’m not so sure. He’s been putting on this big show of being a dedicated grandfather. Yolanda’s too gullible!”

  “At least you get to watch the auction this way,” Marta pointed out.

  “Sounds like it’s starting.” Glowering, Elise marched into the auditorium.

  Marta could hear Hale gleefully extolling the merits of Bachelor Number One, attorney Brian Phillips. “A former football player, our first hunk is such a great guy, he’s almost put an end to lawyer jokes single-handedly,” Hale boomed. “What am I bid?”

  Offers started at the previously announced minimum of twenty dollars and soared from there. Marta cast a precautionary glance outside and, with the coast clear, joined Zandy at the inner entrance.

  A blond Viking in his late thirties who dominated the stage, Brian wore a football jersey and below-the-knee knit pants with a racing stripe. Helmet tucked beneath one arm, he feigned reaching for a catch.

  “Forty-five!” Marta recognized the bidder as Soraya Bloom, who owned the nail boutique next to Connie’s Curios.

  “Fifty!” That was Dr. Tanith Williams, a pediatrician from Russ’s office who occasionally stopped into Marta’s shop for chewing gum.

  “Fifty-five!” called Andie O’Reilly. Apparently she’d decided not to wait for Derek.

  “Is that all?” Hale scoffed. “Heck, I’d pay more than that to have Brian spend the evening bouncing drunks from one of my parties.”

  Amid the laughter, the bids rose. A hundred dollars. A hundred and fifty. They reached two twenty-five, with Andie the winner.

  Marta released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She wouldn’t mind so much if a woman in her forties got hold of Derek. Not that men couldn’t fall for older women, but the threat didn’t seem as great.

  The next bachelor, a young employee from the city clerk’s office, bounded onto the stage in a lifeguard outfit. Marta retreated to her table.

  Andie slipped out. “Weird, huh? Me and a lawyer,” the fire investigator remarked as she wrote a check. Marta tucked it inside the box and penned a receipt.

  “Good choice,” Zandy affirmed. “Connie says he’s a sweetheart.”

  Andie didn’t bother returning to the auditorium. “I’m going to meet my hunk so we can set a date.” The bachelors had been instructed to wait in the reception area of the office wing until their buyers contacted them.

  The next candidates went quickly, and Marta stayed busy accepting payments. Soraya landed a firefighter and Tanith a high-school history teacher.

  “It’s for a good cause,” the physician explained with a touch of awkwardness while she paid. “Besides, most men run for the hills when they find out I’m a doctor. It intimidates them.”

  “I hope you two hit it off,” Marta said.

  A shrug answered this comment. “In any case, I could use a night out with an intelligent companion.”

  More women arrived to tender their payments, and Marta feared she’d never get a break. At last she did, though, arriving in time to watch Russ’s friend Mike Federov take the stage. A child psychologist, he looked open and appealing in a tweed jacket over jeans.

  The women jumped right in. Among them was Rosa Mercato, who ran Connie’s third shop, located inside a converted pickle factory that held a farmer’s market and boutiques.

  The bidding had passed a hundred dollars when a new voice called an offer. Startled, Marta realized Elise had joined the competition.

  The tough-as-nails policewoman had her eye on a psychologist? Perhaps that wasn’t surprising. Unlike most men Elise encountered, he appeared neither pushy nor threatening.

  Other women dropped out in the face of one particularly determined woman whom Marta didn’t know. But either Elise really liked the guy or simply refused to admit defeat.

  At two hundred eighty-five, the challenger withdrew. Elise nodded with satisfaction at winning.

  She didn’t move from her seat, though. The rules allowed her to pay after the auction’s finish, providing bidders a chance to buy more than one romantic evening. Marta suspected her friend was curious to learn how much her colleagues sold for.

  Bill Norton, a patrolman in his late twenties, went for two fifty-five. Robbery-homicide detective Jorge Alvarez, a slightly paunchy thirty-six-year-old, brought in one seventy-five. Young detective Kirk Tenille, who performed pushups onstage, drew two hundred and ninety, well above the two-ten that Rosa paid for traffic sergeant Mark Rohan.

  The center had earned nearly two thousand dollars so far, and the auction still had a couple of hot ones in store. Including the man foremost in Marta’s mind.

  Derek must be listening from the wings to the shouting and cheering. How did he feel? A massage probably wouldn’t go amiss at the moment, Marta reflected wistfully. She could use one herself. Hopping up and down to watch wasn’t doing her soreness any good.

  “Hey!” Zandy signaled as a purchaser departed. “Joel’s up.”

  Marta scurried over. Sure enough, Hale had just welcomed his friend onto the stage.

  Joel’s husky build and clean-cut features drew hearty applause. The watch commander, in exercise shorts and a T-shirt, performed a series of jumping jacks followed by a cartwheel.

  “Used to be a gymnast in high school,” Marta noted, and wondered what Connie thought of her ex-husband’s display.

  She could see only her cousin’s back and halo of blonde hair. Next to Connie, Rachel whistled and stomped the floor. Obviously, she’d suspended traffic duty until after the occasion.

  The numbers for Joel rose rapidly past a hundred dollars, then two hundred. Gradually, women dropped out, leaving a nurse, Nancy Nguyen, and a woman Zandy identified as Kat Ayl
e. She tended bar at Jose’s Tavern, a popular after-hours spot for law-enforcement folks.

  Joel teased the crowd, winking at one woman and grinning at another before executing a flip that nearly grazed Hale. The emcee retreated with exaggerated alarm. “He’s a live one!”

  Kat upped her bid. Nancy hesitated. At the record level of three hundred dollars, the battle appeared to be over.

  A new voice broke the calm. “Three-oh-five!”

  An excited murmur arose as people recognized Tracy Johnson. Joel stopped cavorting to regard the reporter skeptically.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested him. Marta didn’t envy Joel the prospect of having details of his date splashed across the pages of the Villazon Voice.

  He’d treated Connie poorly during their marriage, ignoring her to spend weekends with his buddies and attempting to control her with putdowns. Still, Marta harbored no grudges against her ex-cousin-in-law. He’d grown a lot since the divorce and she suspected that a more mature Joel might have decent possibilities for a strong woman.

  Tracy, of course, only wanted to exploit the guy. Still, he could take care of himself.

  Kat opted out. “I’m not bidding against the newspaper on a bartender’s income,” she announced.

  No one challenged the assumption that the money came from the Voice rather than from Tracy personally. Including the reporter herself, Marta observed.

  “That sets a record for tonight, with only one bachelor remaining!” Hale whooped. “Congratulations, Joel. Now let’s find out if our final candidate can top that.”

  Joel’s competitive instincts appeared to war with his altruistic desire to raise money for the center. After a brief pause, he added, “Yes, ladies, open your purses for Derek Reed!” and trotted off.

  Tension spurred twinges in Marta’s muscles as Derek sauntered into view. Perfectly groomed, elegant and all male in his tuxedo. A sigh rippled through the crowd.