“We can see the baby already?” Matters were progressing faster than he’d expected. “Of course I’ll go.”
She beamed, a delightful sight to Derek. They set a time to meet on Wednesday, and he headed back to work.
In front of the hospital, a young couple were tucking their infant into a car seat. Joy radiated from them. If only he had the capacity for pure, uncomplicated love, Derek thought. A chasm had always separated him from others, even before Parkinson’s struck.
He was waiting to cross Mesa View Boulevard when he saw two men on the steps of the police building. As powerful Will Lyons faced the reedy figure of his son, their tense stances warned of an incipient explosion.
They’d picked far too public a site, in full view of the hospital as well as the detective bureau, which had windows on this side. Derek muttered imprecations at the traffic blocking his access.
Finally, the road cleared. As he approached, he heard Will snap, “If the bag wasn’t yours, then whose? Who else rode in the car with you?”
Reluctantly: “Vince. But he didn’t—”
“You allowed Vince Borrego in my car?”
“I didn’t know there were restrictions! I should have guessed you’d treat me like a child.” Ben’s hands formed fists.
“Who’s your dealer? Borrego?” Will challenged.
This quarrel had better move indoors, fast. “Chief,” Derek said as he reached the sidewalk. “Why don’t we—”
Ben ignored Derek. “Go ahead! Lock me up! You always throw your weight around. But don’t blame a guy who’s been more of a father to me than you ever will be!”
Flushing, Will grabbed his son’s arm. The boy wrenched free and took a swing at his father. The blow glanced off his father’s cheek, and then the two halted, stunned by their actions.
Neither appeared to notice Tracy Johnson, who’d approached from outside Derek’s range of vision with her camera lens trained on the scene. When Derek spotted her, he attempted to mount a defense. “This is a personal dispute between a father and son. I’m requesting that you respect their privacy.”
She lowered the camera. “This is a public place, Sergeant, and the chief is a public figure.”
Will descended on them, his expression grim. A red patch showed on one cheek.
Ben followed. “What’s she doing here?” To Tracy: “You vulture! Why don’t you leave us alone?”
“I’d be glad to print your side of the story.” She switched on a small digital recorder. “Who do you think placed the drugs in your father’s car?”
“Get lost!” The boy stalked past her and vanished around the corner.
Obviously, her arrival was no coincidence. “Who told you there were drugs?” Derek demanded.
“I can’t reveal my sources.” She addressed the chief. “Are you going to turn the evidence over to the D.A.?”
The anger on Will’s face alarmed Derek. Before his boss landed in further hot water, he interjected a paraphrase of their official statement.
“Under California law, possession of this small amount of drugs constitutes a misdemeanor, as you ought to be aware, Miss Johnson. Considering that only a trace was present, the officer on the scene has discretion.” Spontaneously, he added, “Furthermore, there’s no proof someone didn’t plant it as a prank, since Ben Lyons left the car parked at Villa Corazon with the window open.”
Will shot Derek a startled glance. Tracy frowned. “Who told you that, Sergeant?”
“I observed it,” he said. “Last Saturday. Now I have a question for you.”
Her chin jutted. “Yes?”
“Who’s tipping you off?”
“Like I said, I assure my sources of anonymity,” she answered.
“Your source is using you to embarrass this department. Are you really content to be manipulated?” he pressed.
Tracy pocketed her recorder. “I’m not the one who got into a fistfight in front of half the town. And you confirmed the information about the drugs. As long as my sources tell the truth, their motives are their business.”
Derek and Will watched her walk away, then turned and entered the building. Neither spoke till they were inside the chief’s office.
“What’s this about an open window?” Lyons asked.
Derek regarded his boss apologetically. “I started to mention it earlier and got sidetracked.”
“Was Vince around when you saw the open window? Never mind. Ben already admitted giving him a ride.” The chief’s fingers drummed his desk. “I guess anyone could have stuffed the thing into the seat crack.”
“Something tells me you were intended to find it,” Derek said.
“Who would do that? Other than Vince, I mean.”
Derek tried to recall which other volunteers had connections to the police force. Elise. Rachel and Connie. Also Ginger, the daughter of Lieutenant Justin Lindeman. Possibly others as well. “In a town this small, anyone could be involved.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.” The weight of the world appeared to sit on the man’s shoulders. “Besides, there’s no excuse for my behavior a few minutes ago. I was returning from lunch when I ran into Ben. He acted truculent as usual, but that’s no excuse. I’m supposed to be the responsible one, and I blew it.”
“We’re all human.” Derek recalled his own overreaction in the coffee shop on Saturday.
“I’m not allowed to be, not in my official capacity.” The chief sighed. “Maybe with further consideration, Tracy Johnson will decide a family quarrel qualifies more as gossip than front-page news.”
After a noncommittal response, Derek returned to his duties. He doubted Tracy would back off, and tonight marked her deadline.
Although she must have been in the area to arrive so quickly, clearly someone had snitched about the father-son quarrel. And Derek still had no clue to the traitor’s identity.
*
Marta felt mixed emotions about having the ultrasound. Flares of enthusiasm gripped her when she considered seeing her baby, yet she shrank from the hard choice ahead.
Her heart demanded that she keep the child. Her common sense warned against it.
She was helping a shop assistant unpack a set of stuffed toys half an hour before the appointment when Connie appeared. “I’ve been dying to see what these look like in the flesh, so to speak.” She and Marta had viewed only Internet images before ordering the items. “Oh, gosh, they’re darling!” She lifted a Christmas elf from the display rack. “Wish we’d bought more. I’m nearly cleaned out of novelties at the main store.”
“We could place a rush order.” The warehouse wasn’t far.
“I’ll do that.” Connie replaced the elf. “You keep glancing at the lobby. Expecting someone?”
“Yes.” Marta pulled her aside. “I have a doctor’s appointment.”
“In the lobby?”
Might as well tell her. “No, an ultrasound. I’m pregnant.”
Her cousin’s mouth formed a silent O.
“It’s all your fault,” Marta added lightly. “You and your big fat birthday present.”
Understanding dawned. “Derek’s the father?”
Marta nodded.
“Have you told him?”
She pointed toward the hospital entrance, where he’d just put in an appearance. “He’s going with me.”
“And?” Connie inquired.
“And that’s where matters stand,” Marta concluded.
Her cousin grasped the point. “I’ll butt out—for now. But if he does you dirt, I’m hiring a hit man.”
“You could sic Hale on him,” Marta suggested.
“They’re too well matched. I’m not risking my husband’s neck.”
Connie greeted Derek with composure and sent them both on their way. To Marta’s pleasure, Derek extended an elbow for her to hang on in the elevator en route to the radiology department, as if they were in this together.
And they were. For the moment.
Nora Dellums, the ultrasound technicia
n, must have noticed Marta’s name on the appointment sheet, but her eyes widened when Derek walked in. The woman quickly recovered her composure and proceeded smoothly.
Changing into a hospital gown didn’t strike Marta as a big deal until she had to lie down and expose her stomach. The combination of cold air and jittery nerves made her shaky.
Derek smoothed her hair reassuringly. Marta closed her eyes, relishing the contact.
The technician spread goop on her bare skin. As the scanning device tickled her abdomen, Marta studied the shapes moving on the monitor.
Derek stared raptly. “Is that the baby? It looks like a complete person, only incredibly tiny.”
“That’s the general idea,” the technician answered.
He chuckled. “Wow, it’s kicking up a storm! Can you feel that, Marta?”
“No. But it sure is cute.” She could scarcely believe Derek’s excitement.
“Now, this is interesting,” Nora murmured.
Marta’s gut clenched as she recalled the doctor’s concern about her size. Was something wrong?
“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” Derek inquired in a puzzled tone.
“Yup,” the technician said. “Twins.”
Twins? Incredible. Marta struggled to grasp the news.
“Can you tell the gender?” Derek asked.
“Too early,” Nora replied. “Sorry.”
“They’re sure active,” he said. “I’m surprised she can’t feel them.”
“That’s because they’re tiny. Once they grow, she’ll feel them all right.” Nora snapped a photo through the device.
Derek remarked on the small beating hearts as Nora captured more images. Thank goodness no one expected Marta to talk.
Two insights struck her. The first was that she desperately wanted to hold these amazing creatures and watch them grow into adults.
The second was that if one baby posed a challenge, two presented an insurmountable obstacle. Without the aid of grandparents or a husband, she’d be cheating the children and herself.
No matter how much Derek enjoyed watching these little sweethearts, he showed no indication of being ready to take on such an awesome responsibility. The dream of keeping her children clenched inside Marta.
For the babies’ sakes, she would have to give them up.
Chapter Fourteen
Derek couldn’t stop stealing peeks at the shadowy shapes on the screen, certain he detected the curve of a nose or the thrust of an elbow. Two kids meant they might have a little girl like Marta and a little boy…well, hopefully with a sweeter temperament than his.
At the end of the session, the technician presented them each a photo of the twins to take home. “The babies’ first pictures,” she announced
Derek stared at his while Marta dressed. When she emerged, her forlorn expression tore at him.
“Let’s get a cup of coffee—tea—in the cafeteria,” he suggested. “You aren’t ready to get back to work.”
“Don’t you have stuff to do?” she asked.
“Nothing urgent. Besides, I’d rather lie low.” The atmosphere at the station had been tense since Monday’s altercation.
“Did Joel attempt to talk to Tracy?” Marta was well aware of the situation.
“I didn’t ask him to. It’s inappropriate, since they’re dating, and she wouldn’t back off, anyway,” Derek said.
Marta exited the elevator ahead of him. “I’m amazed they’re still involved.”
“Rumor has it she’s taking tips from his ex-wife.” The Voice office lay in the same strip mall as Connie’s Curios. “That must help in handling him.”
“Connie hasn’t mentioned talking to her. Besides, Tracy’s sharp enough to cope with Joel on her own.”
When they reached the cafeteria, Marta accepted Derek’s suggestion that she sit down and let him fetch the hot drinks. The staff had stuck glittery angels and red balls on an artificial Christmas tree in one corner, he observed. The place was nearly empty at this pre-dinner hour and, despite the decorations, appeared rather stark.
When he set the lemon tea in front of her, Marta stared at it unhappily, although she’d requested that flavor. “I could bring you peppermint,” Derek offered.
“Huh?” When she lifted her head, he saw tears brimming.
He felt a crazy urge to pull her onto his lap and soothe away her misery. “Did the ultrasound hurt, or is this one of those hormone things?”
She shook her head. “It’s because I can’t keep two babies.”
Her words hit Derek hard. Foolishly, he’d begun picturing himself dropping in to visit Marta’s place, playing with the children as they grew and helping pay the bills. “What would you do?”
“Brian, the attorney who helped with Skip’s adoption, probably knows some families,” she said glumly.
He sought a compromise. “If you arrange an open adoption, we could stay in touch.” He’d heard about mothers who remained in contact that way.
She blew on her tea. “I think a clean break would be easier on everyone.”
Derek glanced at the photo of two babies curled in eternal innocence. Hard to grasp that this might be as close as he’d ever come to holding them. “Do you have to decide now?”
“It is early in the pregnancy,” Marta conceded. “Why?”
“I guess I’m not ready to say goodbye when we’ve only just said hello,” he admitted.
She rested her chin on her palm. “Do you still want me to go home with you for Christmas? I’ll probably be showing.”
Derek didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”
“Talk about arousing curiosity!” Her face scrunched. “They’ll ask questions.”
“My family respects my space,” he told her.
“But these are their grandchildren.”
He hadn’t considered that angle. The prospect of two more babies would be hard for them to resist.
Well, he’d deal with that situation when it arose. The fact was that, for the first time in Derek’s adult life, he actually looked forward to Christmas because he’d be sharing it with Marta. “The invitation stands.”
“Okay.” A tiny smile showed her relief.
His watch alarm sounded, and he swallowed his medication with the last of the coffee. The beep also reminded him to meet with a homeowners’ group about forming a Neighborhood Watch, which meant he had to leave.
Marta declined his suggestion that she accompany him downstairs. “I’m having another cup.”
Derek kissed her cheek. Although he wanted more contact, this was hardly the place. “Catch you later.”
“You bet.”
He took his photo of the twins with him.
*
Closing her eyes, Marta relished the memory of Derek’s eyes as he watched the ultrasound. That man possessed such depths of caring. He’d be a great dad if he broke through the emotional block that seemed to prevent him from enjoying a truly intimate relationship. Despite their friendship, she still didn’t understand the foundation of that wall.
However, she refused to torture herself with wishful thinking. She was too realistic to be misled by his request that she delay a decision and by his desire to spend Christmas together.
She had to prepare for what lay ahead: relinquishing their babies, and ultimately losing Derek. Not to his illness—she could cope with that—but to his fundamental need to be alone.
After finishing her tea, Marta summoned the energy to return to the shop for the rest of the day, then drove home. Inside the apartment, she peered into her refrigerator with chagrin. She’d stocked two jars of pickles because of a craving, plus a bottle of milk and a couple of yogurts, but nothing that resembled dinner.
“There’s always spaghetti,” she said aloud, and was hauling out a pot when the doorbell rang. Puzzled, she opened the door.
“Chinese!” Connie held aloft a trio of take-out cartons.
“Ice cream!” Rachel displayed two half-gallon tubs.
“Best of a
ll, we left the kids at home!” her cousin declared as they marched inside.
“Except the one in my tummy, which is very eager to meet your guy,” Rachel added.
Marta should have realized Connie would tell Rachel about the pregnancy. They’d probably informed Hale and Russ, too. While Marta hoped the news didn’t cause problems for Derek at work, she supposed the story would inevitably reach the police department.
“This is wonderful. Thanks, guys.” She displayed the ultrasound picture. “Here’s the latest scoop.”
Connie squinted at it. “Am I seeing double?”
“Oh, my gosh, twins!” Rachel whooped.
They set the table and gathered around, discussing due dates and children and plans. The other two women listened sympathetically when Marta mentioned adoption, and to her relief, neither criticized Derek.
No judgments, no attempt to control her. And no need for either to state the obvious: that come what may, Marta could count on her friends.
*
There were a few days in Derek’s life that he wished he could have skipped. For instance, the day he landed in a knife fight with the high-school bully and got expelled. Also the day when the neurologist delivered the news about his illness.
The day following Marta’s ultrasound fell into that category, too, for several reasons. One was his sheer discomfort when he walked through the station to his office and caught not only speculative looks but also Marta’s name coupled with the word pregnant.
The only person to actually allude to the topic openly was Hale, who placed a coffee-shop latte on Derek’s desk with the comment, “Sorry, no booze in there, but this oughta replace any vital fluids you lost.” That was as far as the good-natured cop cared to venture.
The day’s larger problem arrived in the form of the Villazon Voice. A photo of Ben landing a blow on Will’s cheek dominated page one. Police Chief Battles Son, read the banner headline.
Although no one could blame Derek for failing to dissuade Tracy, he believed he’d let the department down. Not only did his job call for riding herd on the media, but he also felt a personal responsibility to protect the chief.
Twin Surprise Page 16
