Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [121]
“Nearly.” She nodded, and his blue eyes took in every inch of her, as if validating what his ears were being told.
“I can’t believe it.” Still holding his coat, he sat down on the corner of his desk. “Wow.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Ron Bishop was all business. “Now, listen. J.R. was half-kidding when he brought this up, but I think it would be a nifty attention-getting angle to put her on your show, you know, act like she’s Marquise during the lead-in, something like, ‘Is this Denver’s most celebrated missing person?’ We’ll check with Tess O’Shaughnessy”—he turned to face Maggie—“she’s now the executive producer of the show—”
Maggie wasn’t going to be bullied into anything. “Wait a minute.”
“—but it would be something along those lines, then you start interviewing her, not as Marquise, but as her twin. Wouldn’t that generate a helluva lot of interest? People are already curious, and the viewing public has a fascination with twin stories—they’re all over the miniseries and soaps. And here we’ve got it all rolled into one. A bona fide mystery and a twin deal and, of course, it could help us all find out what happened to her. That’s the most important facet, the real reason for the impersonation. The more people who watch the show, the more likely someone will call in with information.”
Craig was starting to warm to the idea. “Later in the show, we could have other twins come on—or twins separated at birth, that sort of thing. Explore what they have in common, why with different parents they still have the same mannerisms and interests and tastes.”
“Exactly.”
“Hey, slow down.” Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’m not interested.”
“What?”
“I just came to Denver to find my sister, not exploit her.”
“But you’d be doing her a favor. Maybe even help find her. One of our viewers might have seen her.”
“Wouldn’t they have called by now? Surely they’d recognize her.”
“But we could do some special advertising, draw a bigger audience. What do you think, Ms. McCrae?”
Maggie wasn’t going to be drawn into this ratings-driven, testosterone winner-take-all mentality. “I’d just like to talk to you,” she said directly to Craig Beaumont.
“Mr. Bishop?” A rail-thin woman with doe-shaped eyes and a smart black suit poked her head in the door. “You wanted me to remind you of your meeting with Mr. Danvers at the Brown Palace at eleven-thirty.”
Bishop checked his watch, mumbled his apologies, and reminded Maggie that she’d be doing her sister a favor if she agreed to be interviewed on Denver AM or the news, then hustled out of the tiny room.
“Sorry about Ron. He’s…well, he’s just Ron,” Craig said. “Always thinking ratings.”
“The nature of the beast,” she said with a shrug.
“All of us are geared to improving the quality of the show as well as improve our market share.”
“I understand, but as I said, I just want to find my sister, and I thought you could answer some questions for me.”
Craig eyed her for a second, then nodded, and for the first time Maggie saw a deeper side to this man whom her sister had once referred to as “a poster boy for ex-surfer dudes.”
“Sure. But let’s talk outside the station,” Craig suggested. “There’s a restaurant two blocks down the street where we might have a little privacy.”
Maggie agreed. Here, in Marquise’s workplace, she felt everyone’s eyes upon her. “Lead the way.”
Thane drew blanks. Anyone he talked to had little or nothing to say. The convenience store clerk had a faltering memory and the people who worked for Mary Theresa thought she was an angel—that was the word used by Raoul, who handled the yard work. “An angel sent down from heaven.” An elderly man with six children, two of whom still lived with him, he was devoutly religious and thought that the last five years of his life working for Marquise had been the best.
Her personal trainer, Laslo Rolf, was a surprise. Because of his own prejudices and Marquise’s usual taste in friends, Thane expected the guy to be a major flake. But he’d been wrong.
At twenty-eight Laslo had the body