The Unknown Twin

“Isn’t it? The father of the owners, the Goodmans, bought this building when it was an old movie theater, then converted it to a restaurant. His son Larry and daughter-in-law run it now. They’re all descendants of the sailors of the Ranger who settled here.”

Lauren had researched the history of Courage Bay before coming here. The ten-mile strip of coastal area, near Los Angeles, had been inhabited solely by Native Americans until a ship called the Ranger came upon the coast during a horrific storm. The ship was ready to capsize when twelve very brave natives had risked their lives to save the sailors, who ended up staying and intermarrying with their rescuers. Lauren loved reading the stories, especially the somewhat mystical connection of the town’s current rescue personnel and those brave natives who’d put themselves in danger for others.

“Lauren?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking about the Ranger.” She glanced around. “I love the interior of this place.” The dining room was softly lit, with buttery-cream walls and smooth, rich oak trim. It smelled like seafood and the freshly baked bread they’d served before dinner. She broke off a piece and brought it to her mouth. It was flaky. Light. “I hope all the food’s as good as this.”

His eyes were riveted on her mouth. “Did anybody ever tell you you have a really sensuous way of eating?”

“Yes, people have said that. I enjoy food.”

“You savor it.”

“Observations from an ace reporter.”

He shook his head.

“What? Your coverage of the goings-on with the police and firefighters is very insightful.”

“I wish Perry would give me more challenging stuff. Or that I’d have the gumption to leave the Courier.”

The waiter arrived and took their orders for Veal Marsala. She and Toby were well matched in tastes. Alex would no doubt have picked the prime rib. A man’s meal. Toby was more her type.

Deirdre’s voice broke into her thoughts. Then why are you thinking about the hunky firefighter so much?

I’m not.

“Lauren, you look like you’re someplace else again.”

“Oh, sorry. You were talking about your job.”

“I like it well enough. I just think I’m underappreciated.”

“Then you should do something else.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

“No, I came to Courage Bay because my roommate from college teaches school here. After my mother and father died a year ago, I was at loose ends in Benicia. I’d been trying to get the cartoon off the ground, so this seemed like a good opportunity.” And since her parents, who were both lawyers, had left her a lot of money, she was free to pursue her interests and work only part-time.

She didn’t tell him about her broken engagement. Or James’s deception.

“Do you mind doing the layout Perry assigned you until you get the cartoon going?” he asked her.

“No, it’s fine. I like helping with the artwork.”

He nodded to her clothes. “That jacket’s a work of art itself.” It was several shades of pink and wine, like a patchwork quilt. Gold threads outlined each small square.

“I made it.”

“A woman of many talents.”

They managed small talk while they ate their salads, then their meals arrived. She sipped the white wine he’d ordered for them both and cut the veal. “This is so tender, it melts in my mouth.”

Again he watched her. Smiling. Hmm. Seemed as if he was interested. She wondered what he’d kiss like. Then she wondered what Alex would kiss like.

The dinner finished pleasantly. “I’d like to see the rest of this place,” she told Toby. “I’ve only been in town two weeks and I’ve never been here. Would you mind if we looked around before we left?”

“No, of course not. It’s cool. You’ll love the Wall.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll show you.”

He led her to the far side of the room to the Remembrance Wall. It was filled with names and pictures of rescue personnel who’d died in the line of duty. “This is remarkable.” Lauren ran her finger along the frames, studying the faces of the men and women who’d lost their lives saving others.

“The Goodmans’ son is here.” Toby pointed to a picture.

A young, redheaded boy stood, looking proud in his fire department blues. She saw so much life there, so much missed. It made her sad.

“He was a paramedic. After he died, Larry and Louise put up this wall.”

“A lovely tribute.”

They headed to the back, to what was called the Function Room. She laughed when she saw it. It was a man’s paradise: three huge TVs, pool tables, darts and framed photos and articles around the perimeter. It even smelled male—with a faint hint of aftershave. “Did you write any of these articles?”

“I’ve written some they’ve hung in the bar, though I don’t think there are any of mine in this room. I don’t hang out much in here. I’m not good at these games.”

Lauren perused the pictures. One was captioned “Captain Saves Little Girl.” The captain was Alex. He was smiling broadly, holding a small child. His face was grimy, and he was dressed in turnout gear, which was dirt smeared. For a moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

She followed Toby, looking at other articles, photos and various memorabilia in the back room, then they went to the bar. More accolades were out there.

More Alex. A casual shot of him with his crew. Lauren’s eyes zeroed in on a woman. Dana. Damn. She looked even more like Lauren in this picture.

Toby gave voice to her thoughts. “She could be your twin.”

Lauren peered over at him. “You must know her, Toby. Why didn’t you ever say anything about how much I resemble her?”

He shrugged. “You’ve only been here two weeks. Truthfully, I thought maybe you were related, and since you didn’t say anything, you must not want to talk about it.”

“That was thoughtful. But we’re not sisters, or anything else.”

“Okay. Just fate, I guess.” He nodded to the wall. “Here’s an article I wrote.”

She moved closer. Please don’t let it be about Alex.

It was an off-the-job rescue. Alex had been out of town on vacation and drove past a house on fire. He’d spotted a kid in the window two stories up. He’d called 911 and then shinnied up a tree to rescue the child. On the way down, a limb had cracked and they’d fallen. The girl was fine, but Alex had broken his arm. He’d received a medal from the mayor for his actions.

By the time they left the grill, Lauren felt she’d been to dinner with Alex Shields—he’d been in her thoughts so much and his pictures had been all around. Damn. She got her car from the newspaper office parking lot and drove home, wondering about her preoccupation with the man. She was distracted as she parked in the driveway, got out and hurried up to her house. When she had moved here, she’d wanted her own space. Since she had the money, she’d rented, with an option to buy, this small stucco one-story home on a quiet street. The landlord had even agreed to go half on any redecorating. She liked the place, she thought, as she reached the porch and unlocked the door.

But once inside, she stopped in her tracks.

It could be nothing, but…the room smelled different, almost like cologne. The scent was male.

And the desk drawers were slightly ajar.

And her throw pillows were on the floor.

Lauren was neat, and knew she hadn’t neglected to close the drawers. She hadn’t scattered pillows on the floor before she’d left, either.

With a sinking feeling, she realized somebody had been in her home.

CHAPTER THREE

ALEX STARED out at the second-graders and thought about the fact that by now he could have had a seven-year-old child. He was thirty-four. Sometimes he regretted that he hadn’t already married and started a family. Sometimes, he was glad as hell. Still, he wanted a woman to share his life with, to eventually have kids with. It just hadn’t happened yet.

“Alex?” The teacher, Hannah Nielson, smiled up at him. She was engaged to his friend, Vince Wojohowitz, a cop, and Alex liked her. “You with us?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m a little vague. I was on last night and we had calls.” Then, when he finally did get to sack out, he’d dreamed of…damn, he wasn’t going to do this.

“Well, we’re ready to start if you are.”

“Sure.”

“Hannah?”

Both of them turned to the door. Lauren. Jeez, what was fate up to here?

“Hey, Lauren.” Hannah smiled. “Have you met Alex Shields, one of our bravest?”

Lauren bit her lip. Some lipstick—the color of rum—came off on her teeth. “Yes, I have.” She smiled. “He’s the one who pulled me out of the fire.”

Hannah’s brows arched. “Oh, Lord, I didn’t know that.”

Lauren’s eyes filled with emotion. “I’m very grateful to our bravest.”

“Just part of the job, ma’am. And those cookies you made—we feasted, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m glad you liked them.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“I volunteer in Hannah’s classroom.”

Hannah squeezed Lauren’s arm. “We were roommates at UCLA.”

As with Toby Hanson, Lauren had thought it curious that Hannah hadn’t ever mentioned her likeness to Dana. She had asked about it earlier, and Hannah said she’d never met Dana personally in the year she’d been in Courage Bay. She associated more with Vince’s cop buddies. When Lauren had found a picture of her on the Net and showed Hannah, her friend had gasped at the similarity. She, too, found it hard to believe they weren’t related. Lauren wished people would stop saying that.

“How about you?” Lauren asked. “Why are you here?”

“Alex does most of the fire instruction in this school. I think he’s a frustrated teacher.”

“Please, I could never handle them on a day-today basis.” He nodded to the class.

“Speaking of which, I think the natives are restless.”

Flushing, Lauren stepped away. “I’ll just go to the back of the room.”

Alex watched her walk away. She wore a gauzy sage-green skirt, which swirled around her calves, and a matching top. It was a peasant kind of style with the tie around the neckline. Her dangly earrings accented the outfit. They were made of tiny green stones.

Damn! What was wrong with him, noticing every little thing about the woman. He turned to the students. “Hi, guys. Remember me?”

“Captain Shields.” They all spoke at once.

One kid asked, “We gonna get to do the fire extinguisher again?”

“Not today. We’re going to talk about what a person should do if he or she catches on fire.”

From the back of the room, Lauren gasped.

He threw her a knowing grin. “Some people think we shouldn’t scare you with all the possibilities of what could happen, but we’ve already talked about how to prevent fires and precautions to take. It’s important to know what happens in the event of a fire.”

Lauren blushed. He gave her a smile that was meant to ease her embarrassment. She blushed deeper.

“So, look up here.” He turned and wrote on the board. “Everybody repeat this for me.”

The kids yelled, “Stop, drop and roll!”

“I don’t suppose there are any volunteers who want to help me illustrate the technique?”

Sixteen hands shot up. God, he loved this. Maybe he was a frustrated teacher.

THE MAN UNNERVED HER. Lauren was right to have said no to a date with him. So what if she couldn’t get him out of her mind? She would, if she could stop having contact with him. Who would have guessed that he’d be at school today? She’d agreed to help out Hannah with some end-of-the-year art projects, and never imagined she’d run into the one guy she’d been thinking about way too much.

Concentrating on the stars she was drawing, she listened to his strong baritone and the rumbles of laughter from him and the kids. She stole a sideways glance at them. He didn’t seem to mind being on the floor with the kids, even though he wore a nice outfit: a red silk T-shirt that outlined his broad shoulders and washboard abs, and pressed khakis, which highlighted his trim hips and long legs. “Man At Ease With Children,” she’d title the scene at the front of the room. He had the kids circled around him. A little girl was demonstrating the technique of Stop, drop and roll. Alex spoke softly to her. Gently he eased her down to the mat he’d spread out. The tender gesture made Lauren think of husbands and fathers. Her own father had been a wonderful man, even if both her parents had been as different from her as desert to ocean. They’d loved her dearly and were stymied by the fact she’d always felt a sense of not belonging. Thoughts of the loving man and woman who had raised her made her eyes mist.

Damn. She was feeling too much today. Probably because she hadn’t slept enough last night. When she’d gotten home, she’d been sure someone had been in the house.

First, there was the scent of the man’s aftershave in the air. The policeman who’d come had thought she was crazy….

“Let me get this right,” Officer Carlos Jerado asked after he’d checked out the house and taken her statement. “You smelled somebody?”

“I know it sounds silly, but I have a heightened sensory awareness. Besides, there were the other things.”

Like the pillows that weren’t where she’d put them.

“You know where every pillow is?” Jerado had asked, indicating the ten or twelve in the living room. “As for the desk drawers, you sure you closed them?”

By the time the cop left, Lauren had felt like a fool.

Still, she knew she wasn’t imagining things.

Would Alex have believed her?

Ah, back to the sexy captain, who right now was laughing so hard with the kids he was holding his stomach. It made her own stomach do a funny little two-step.

“GOODBYE, CAPTAIN SHIELDS.” Interesting how a group like this could speak in unison.

“Bye, guys. I hope I see you next year.”

Hannah came up to him. “Thanks, Alex. I’m going to take the kids to an assembly now.” She looked to Lauren, who sat facing the back of the room. “Lauren, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Lauren glanced over her shoulder. “Okay, Hannah. Goodbye, Alex.” She returned to her task.

After Hannah left, Alex stared at Lauren. Drawn to her like fire to air, he ambled back, not exactly sure what he was going to say. Over her shoulder, he saw she’d cut out stars and was sketching faces on them. The faces were those of the kids who’d just left.

“Those are beautiful.”

She jumped. “Oh.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. Her hair gleamed in the overhead lights. He could smell the lemony scent of her shampoo. “Sorry.”

She pivoted in the chair, dislodging his hand. “No, that’s okay, I’m just spooked today.” She smiled up at him. Mauve smudges shadowed her eyes. “Sounds like you had a good time there.”

“I love working with kids.”

“They obviously love you. I’m sorry if you thought I was critical before.”

“No, it’s okay. A lot of people are afraid to talk to kids candidly.”

“Yes, I know. I always felt that protesters of sex education in schools were nuts.”

Sex, huh? “Me, too.” He studied the lines on her face. “What did you mean you were spooked today?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She stood then, so she was more on eye level with him. “Last night when I got home, I thought somebody had been in my house.”

“What?”

“No, let me clarify that. I know somebody had been there.” She told him about the clues. “The policeman thought I was crazy. He said there were no signs of anyone breaking in.” She shrugged. “He finally suggested the landlord had come in without telling me.”

“Did you ask the landlord?”

“No, he wasn’t answering his phone last night or today.”

“Does anybody else have a key?” Alex asked.

“Hannah. She told me she wasn’t at my house last night.”

Arching his brows, he couldn’t help flirting with her. “No guy has a key?”

Her brown eyes twinkled. “No, no guy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What, that there’s no man or about the break-in?”

“Definitely about the break-in.”

She shook her head, then turned, as if uncomfortable with the exchange. “Well, I’ve got to get back to this.” She nodded to the artwork. “I wanted to finish before the kids return from the assembly.”

Her dismissal stung. “Sure.” He straightened. “Take care.”

Feeling like a second-grader himself, he headed out to his car. This was dumb. The lady was definitely not interested. He tried to shrug off his pique as he strode to his Blazer and slid inside. He was tired, so he’d go home, sack out, then find something interesting to do tonight. For a minute, he stared at the school. Lauren was an enigma. And it looked as if she was going to stay that way.

He caught sight of the morning’s paper that he’d tossed on the front seat. Hell. He picked it up and leafed through the pages. Sure enough, another Dee and Me.

Frame One:

The muscle-bound boy, still holding on to her arms, smiles at Lily. You okay?

Lily is being shy. Oh, sure.

Frame Two:

They’re off the dock now. Lily peers up at the boy. Bubbles indicate her thoughts: Jeez, he’s so big. So handsome. Eyes the color of amber.

Amber? Alex’s eyes were light brown. That was amber, wasn’t it? He read on.

The boy has a goofy expression on his face. Wanna go get a soda with me? he asks.

Frame Three:

Um, no thanks.

Oh, okay. Looking dejected, the boy walks away.

Frame Four:

Lily appears despondent.

Deirdre is on the scene. You wanted to go out with him. Why didn’t you?

He makes me uncomfortable.

Frame Five:

Deirdre shakes her head in disgust. Boys are supposed to do that to girls. It’s their job.

Alex stared at the cartoon. If this wasn’t a message, he didn’t know what would be. Right then, he saw her exit the building. He got out of his truck as she walked toward her car, which, apparently, happened to be near his. Must be fate, he decided.

She came up to him. “Something wrong?”

His grin was cocky. He held up the newspaper. “Not that I can see. I read today’s Dee and Me.”

Talk about being uncomfortable. She shifted on her feet. “Oh, did you, um, like it?”

“Lauren, you really do want to go out with me, don’t you?”

“I said I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

He tapped the newspaper on his leg. “Then why did you write this?”

“It’s a cartoon, Alex.” But he could see her blush. “And from the input on the Web site, readers like the hook of the muscle-bound boy.”

“I think your unconscious mind knows you want to go out with me.”

Her smile was dazzling. It gave the sun competition. “Are you always this persistent?”

“I don’t usually have to be.” Never in his life had he pursued a woman so aggressively. Like jealousy, it just wasn’t in his dating repertoire.

The arrogant comment drew a smile from her. “I don’t doubt that.” His phone rang. “Well,” she said, like a prisoner given a late pardon. “You’d better get that.”

“I will.” He grasped her wrist, his fingers easily encircling it. “You are staying, however.” He dug out his phone and flipped it open. “Shields.”

“Alex, this is Sam Prophet.” The arson investigator. “The cause of the fire at the newspaper office has been officially declared arson.”

He saw Lauren’s quizzical look.

“I see.”

“We’ve already done interviews with everybody, but we’re going to talk to your men again, as well as the occupants of the building that night.”

That would include Lauren. “Sam, hold on a second.” He covered the mouthpiece. “The fire was arson.”

“Oh, dear.”

“The investigator wants to talk to you again.”

“Of course.”

Sliding his fingers from her wrist to her hand, he spoke into the phone. “Sam, I’m with Lauren Conway. You should talk to her right away.”

“I’m swamped this afternoon.”

“I think you’ll want to do it soon. Her house was broken into last night.”

The investigator muttered an expletive. “Do you think the incidents are connected?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“Can she come over right now?”

Her face had paled when Alex told her about the arson. Now that he’d made a connection with the break-in, she was ashen. He felt an urge to protect her.

“Lauren, can you talk to the investigator now?”

She nodded.

“I’ll bring her,” he told Prophet, and clicked off.

She squared her slim shoulders and withdrew her hand from his. So she had some grit. That trait reminded him of Dana. Thoughts of his friend made him wonder if Lauren’s resemblance to Dana had any bearing here. He’d been…disconcerted by that right from the start. Was the fire somehow linked to her similarity to Dana? Was there something sinister in that connection?

She said, “You think the fire and the break-in at my house are connected?”

“Let’s just say it’s a big coincidence.”

“So you think…” Her voice broke off. Fear flashed in those dark brown eyes. “You think somebody wants to harm me?”

“It’s a possibility. Come on, let’s go see Prophet.” He took her elbow and began to usher her around to the other side of his Blazer.

“My car…”

“We’ll come back and get it.”

She looked away. “All right. Thanks, I appreciate you going with me.”

He grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “Well, I’m sure Dee would approve.”

She smiled and he opened the car door for her.

SAM PROPHET WAS a big man—they seemed to grow them that way here in Courage Bay. He was over six feet tall with dark blond hair and smoky gray eyes. Though he smiled, he was all business. “Ms. Conway, nice to see you again.”

Lauren stared at the arson investigator. This whole thing was turning into a surreal dream. “Nice to see you again, too.”

He shook his head, watching her. “I can’t get over how much you look like Dana Ivie. I thought that when I first met you.”

“Everyone’s been saying so.”

“It’s somewhat uncanny.”

She shrugged.

“I take it you’ve recovered from the fire.”

Nodding, she said, “The smoke inhalation wasn’t that bad.”

“So, it’s arson.” Alex sat beside her facing the captain. She glanced at him when he spoke. His long, rangy body was stuffed into a small chair, and his legs were stretched out to accommodate his size.

“Yeah, and we know the source of the fire. I wanted to talk to you again, Lauren, to see if you’ve remembered anything more that might have looked or felt suspicious.”

Concentrating hard, Lauren sighed. “I don’t think so, Captain. I fell asleep in my office about midnight, which means I’d been out three hours before Alex rescued me.”

“Hear or see anything when you came into the office?”

“I’d been there all day. The only people I saw that night were Perry O’Connor and Toby Hanson.”

“Yeah, they were working late, too, you said.”

“Truthfully, I just assumed they were working late. But Toby told me the other night he’d left at the end of the day and come back.”

The investigator knit his brow. “Then he wasn’t there the whole time…”

“Is it important?”

“It may be. We’re trying to get a bead on the comings and goings of everyone who works in the building.”

“What was the cause of the fire, Sam?” Alex asked.

“It was set in a storage room where back issues are kept. The torch ignited them. We found evidence of gasoline. Definitely amateur. It doesn’t fit the arson-for-profit profile.”

Lauren didn’t understand. “Excuse me?”

“There are several types of arsonists.” He held up a folder. “We’ve got profiles on each one. They’re broken down by kinds of fires set, accelerants used, personality types for each one.” He pointed to the computer. “With new software, we can draw some of our own conclusions.”

“That’s good,” Lauren said. “Then you know what you’re looking for?”

“Except in this case, the guy doesn’t really fit any of the profiles.”