The Unknown Twin

Finally, the nurse at the hospital, Jackie Kellison, acted as if she and Lauren were best buddies.

Hell, maybe Lauren was still out cold and hallucinating.

A doctor poked his head in her cubicle. An older man, he had a full head of gray hair and a kind smile. He looked familiar. “Hello. They treating you okay here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m George Yube, chief of surgery.”

Ah, yes. Perry O’Connor’s friend. Lauren had seen him at the office once.

“I’m Lauren Conway.”

He gave her a fatherly smile. “I know. Perry told me who you were last time I was at his office. And then I recognized you when they brought you in. I just had to make sure you were all right.”

She smiled back.

After asking a few questions about what had happened to her, he squeezed her arm. “Well, glad to see you’re doing fine.” Then he left.

She’d just closed her eyes and sunk into the pillows when the nurse entered. “Look who I found.”

The firefighter who’d kissed Lauren’s hand was behind her. He’d cleaned up and changed into tight-fitting blue jeans, a green Nike T-shirt and sandals. Lauren had often watched the Courage Bay firefighters from her office window in the week since she began work, though she hadn’t met any of them. The whole rescue unit—fire department, police and hospital—was located in a small, two-block area, and was lauded as an exemplary prototype. Their comings and goings had fascinated her. Though macho, high-profile men scared the daylights out of Lauren—and Lily—they were exactly Deirdre’s type.

The firefighter’s hair was damp. He smelled like soap and citrus aftershave, despite the fact that there was still a growth of beard on his jaw. His smile was thousand watt as it broke through the shadow. “Hey, how’s our girl?”

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. This was ridiculous. “I’m fine, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

The nurse and firefighter exchanged worried looks.

“Dana.” He picked up her hand again with that same tenderness as before. “Are you playing another one of your practical jokes on us?”

She shook her head.

As if he had a right to, the guy brushed the long bangs out of her eyes. His fingertips were callused. “And when did you cut all your hair off?”

“About twenty-five years ago,” she said dryly.

The nurse frowned. “Dana, does your head hurt?”

“Look, I’m not Dana.” Discomfited, she picked at the hospital sheet. “But in any case, thanks for rescuing me.”

“You know you were in a fire at the newspaper office. You remember that, don’t you?” The man’s tone was patronizing but concerned. “What were you doing there at three in the morning?”

“I work there.”

After exchanging another look with the firefighter, the nurse said, “Alex, maybe she got hit on the head.”

The man—Alex—raised his dark brows, and his eyes, the color of aged whiskey, narrowed. “Don’t you know who I am?” he said.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Call Doc Murdock.”

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“A psychiatrist.”

“Look, I don’t need a psychiatrist. I know who I am. Lauren Conway. I just moved here from Benicia.”

Alex ran a big hand through his hair. If she had the chance, she’d paint the color with different tones of brown and gold to achieve his natural color. She’d call the painting “Confused Hero.”

He took her hand again. “Honey, no more jokes. We’re worried about you.”

“This isn’t a joke. Look in my purse. At my driver’s license.”

“You don’t carry a purse!”

“Of course I do. It’s got all my stuff in it.”

They just stared at her. She felt her heartbeat speed up. Whipping back the sheets, she made to get up but went into a fit of coughing.

Jackie stepped around Alex and stopped her. “Here, sweetie, get back in bed.” She eased Lauren against the pillows and started to draw up the covers.

But Alex held up his hand. “Wait a minute.” He grabbed hold of her left foot. “What’s this?”

Lauren felt uncomfortable. Right above her ankle, she had a small brown spot which resembled a leaf. “It’s a birthmark.”

“Dana’s birthmark is on her right foot,” Alex said. “But it looks just like this.”

“I told you, I am not Dana!”

Awareness dawned on Jackie’s face. “Wow. Except for your hair, you’re a dead ringer for Dana Ivie. She’s a friend and a firefighter on Alex’s squad.”

Alex peered closely at her. “Not exactly.” He reached out and tipped her chin. “Your features are more delicate. I can see that now that it’s light out and you’ve cleaned up.” He stared hard into her eyes. “And your eyes are a shade darker.”

Jackie frowned. “How could this be?”

Alex shook his head. Whipping out his cell phone, he punched in numbers. “Give me the San Diego Days Inn.” He looked at the nurse, then back to Lauren again. “Yeah, hi. Dana Ivie’s room, please.”

Lauren hugged the bedsheet closer to her chin.

After a moment, Alex’s eyes widened. “Dana? Is that you?” He chuckled. “Nothing, I just wanted to make sure…okay, okay, I know it’s seven. Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

He clicked off.

“She’s there?” Jackie asked.

“Uh-huh.” He turned his interesting eyes on the patient. “So, Lauren Conway. Do you know you have a twin?”