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When I Found You
Kate James
Is she part of the solution…or the problem?It could be a terrorist threat. Or is it some other sinister plot? An unprecedented rash of security breaches at San Diego’s international airport is putting passengers at risk and bringing the competence of the airport’s chief of security, Ariana Atkins, into question. With explosives the weapon of choice, police K-9 unit captain Logan O’Connor and his bomb detection dog, Boomer, might be Ariana’s best, if not only, line of defense. Logan is certain his belief in Ariana, and his growing love for her, aren’t misplaced…but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s misjudged someone's intentions.


Is she part of the solution...or the problem?
It could be a terrorist threat. Or is it some other sinister plot? An unprecedented rash of security breaches at San Diego’s international airport is putting passengers at risk and bringing the competence of the airport’s chief of security, Ariana Atkins, into question. With explosives the weapon of choice, police K-9 unit captain Logan O’Connor and his bomb detection dog, Boomer, might be Ariana’s best, if not only, line of defense. Logan is certain his belief in Ariana, and his growing love for her, aren’t misplaced...but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s misjudged someone’s intentions.
She was the target.
If Logan hadn’t been with her, she might’ve died... But he and Boomer had been. He’d probably saved her life, but he was injured because of that. All these thoughts tumbled over each other. “Oh, God,” she whispered, and stepped into Logan’s comforting arms. When they enfolded her, she broke down sobbing. Of all her concerns, she voiced the one that made most sense to her troubled mind. “You’re hurt. You got hurt because of me,” she said in a quavering voice.
Logan held Ariana as she cried. He never would’ve imagined this strong, determined woman capable of tears, let alone falling apart as she was. Knowing that others would be joining them soon, he encouraged her to pull herself together. He recognized how fragile she was—and that caused a whole maelstrom of emotions to break loose inside him, not the least of which was a reminder of why he’d avoided relationships his entire life.
Dear Reader (#ulink_2869458d-33e7-51d3-895d-42a4f1089572),
It seems like yesterday that I placed my fingers on the keyboard to start writing When the Right One Comes Along, the first book in my K-9 Trilogy. It’s hard to believe this third book is now complete, too.
I’ve spent a considerable amount of time over the past year and a half with Cal, Jessica and Scout; Rick, Madison, Sniff and Nitro; and finally Logan, Ariana and Boomer. I’ve enjoyed discovering these characters’ stories, and their heartbreaks and happily-ever-afters.
When I Found You is a work of fiction. Although it refers to the leaked results of Homeland Security’s inspector general’s 2015 covert testing of the Transportation Safety Administration’s (TSA’s) operations and technology, I want to draw special attention to the difficult and demanding job that TSA’s frontline workforce performs. I would also like to recognize the San Diego Harbor Police, who have responsibility for providing law-enforcement services at San Diego International Airport. Although in the story I assigned this responsibility to the San Diego Police Department, the Harbor Police’s Explosives Detection K-9 Team is currently the only TSA-certified explosives-detection team south of Los Angeles. I hope they will forgive me for the liberties I have taken in the name of fiction.
I hope you enjoy When I Found You, and maybe you’ll miss these characters a little, the way I do. I’ve provided some discussion questions on my website, in case you’d like to use this story for your book club.
As always, I would love to hear from you! You can connect with me at www.kate-james.com (http://www.kate-james.com), www.Facebook.com/katejamesbooks (http://www.Facebook.com/katejamesbooks), @katejamesbooks (https://twitter.com/katejamesbooks) or at PO Box 446, Schomberg, ON, L0G 1T0, Canada.
Kate

When I Found You
Kate James


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KATE JAMES spent much of her childhood abroad before attending university in Canada. She built a successful business career, but her passion has always been literature. As a result, Kate turned her energy to her love of the written word. Kate’s goal is to entertain her readers with engaging stories featuring strong, likable characters. Kate has been honored with numerous awards for her writing. She and her husband, Ken, enjoy traveling and the outdoors with their beloved Labrador retrievers.
To my parents, for selflessly providing me with the opportunities and encouragement to pursue my dreams.
To the men and women who dedicate their lives to law enforcement—they deserve our unwavering support and gratitude.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_c4a64d05-adb9-5689-8f5a-232748ab3f64)
My editor and I considered a number of titles for this book, but none seemed just right. So we asked readers. I was thrilled to see the tremendous enthusiasm demonstrated by many people. As it turned out, we didn’t have just one winner but four: Summer Halls, Laurie Iglesias, June Smalls and Jill Weatherholt. Thank you, ladies!
I would also like to extend my appreciation to Maria Reeves for allowing me to “borrow” the name of her beloved yellow Labrador retriever, Darwin, for the newest four-legged member of the San Diego Police Department’s K-9 Unit. Darwin and his handler, Shannon Clemens, might have their own story one day!
Thank you, once again, to Constable Jim Hilton and York Regional Police (Ontario, Canada). Constable Hilton, a member of YRP’s canine unit, was invaluable to my research for this trilogy.
Finally, none of my books would be what they are without the contribution of my fabulous editor, Paula Eykelhof. Thank you, Paula, for all that you do! Thanks also to Victoria Curran, senior editor, for challenging me and all the Mills & Boon Heartwarming authors to tell the very best stories we can.
Contents
COVER (#u1448b14c-947e-558b-9f44-a90ae87666ff)
BACK COVER TEXT (#u18f3c660-dbd3-58c7-8215-bf256b496b0b)
INTRODUCTION (#u73a505ad-1870-54cf-af4a-235576c8bc7f)
Dear Reader (#ulink_d2c24e20-c0fd-5464-9695-42cc821b3c5f)
TITLE PAGE (#u870e756c-45bf-54ac-8e30-f0c08246aa3a)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u60faeb13-837f-5315-ac0b-e19e004407fc)
DEDICATION (#udb520541-962f-57d0-b36e-b7f648a209f1)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_6012ef48-ec1c-53ef-bb51-e6c89ede5816)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ac99cb9c-14e1-5b19-98a9-fc9ab9072f47)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6f8e8ffb-b711-5702-bbe5-f9a8b6bad21a)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_c101e59b-f82b-5c9c-a261-004ad5cdf1e6)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_2b18202e-f6f3-5d6b-a8e5-a48311e6ffa8)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_f1e17d46-cdcc-5d8e-b8dd-7d19fd06911d)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)
COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_c7f15722-0d3b-5d34-8658-ad4bee03a52c)
“THE PILOT’S BRINGING the plane back?” Ariana Atkins, chief of security and asset protection for the San Diego International Airport, swiveled away from her desk and stared at her senior security manager.
“Yeah. The plane is on its way,” Max Golding responded. He was leaning against Ariana’s door frame, a hand tucked into the pocket of his stylish dress pants. “You know as well as I do, it’s the pilot’s call.”
“Two vacation-going women bound for Barbados overindulge in their duty-free alcohol purchase, are drunk before the plane is out of our airspace, get into a fight on board, and the pilot declares it a security risk and decides to turn the aircraft around? Have I got that right?”
“That sums it up.” Max straightened. “I was told the flight crew had trouble calming them down.”
He moved to Ariana’s desk, fiddled with her mouse and called up the security camera footage he’d emailed her of the women at the gate.
“They were inebriated before they boarded! The gate crew shouldn’t have let them on that flight.”
“I can’t argue with you about that. The San Diego Police Department is sending a team to meet the plane.”
This was news to Ariana. “Why? We can handle two drunken women ourselves with the SDPD officers assigned to the airport.”
Max shrugged. “I would’ve thought so, but one of the charming young ladies uttered a threat against the crew and passengers. She said, and I quote, that she’d blow them all to kingdom come.”
Ariana rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Great. Just great.” That added weight to the pilot’s decision to bring the plane back.
As far-fetched as it was that one of the women involved in the altercation might have a bomb on board, the United States Transportation Security Administration required that all such incidents be taken seriously.
They’d have to hold the plane away from the terminal building until they had confirmation that there were no explosive devices on board. Only then could it taxi to a gate.
Her stomach rumbled and she glanced at her watch. She’d missed lunch. It wasn’t likely that she’d be having dinner anytime soon either.
“I can handle this, Ariana, if you want to go home.” Obviously Max had heard her stomach, too. “You’ve averaged ten-hour days all week. You deserve some downtime.”
She rose, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. “Thanks, but I’m okay. We’ve all been putting in long hours since the budget cuts. Besides, we could be dealing with a lot worse than two drunken women and a planeload of understandably disgruntled passengers.”
“True.” Max’s iPhone pinged several times in quick succession. He checked the incoming messages. “Game time. The plane has landed, and two members of the SDPD K-9 Unit are on their way and authorized for the airfield. Oh, did I mention the plane has a fighter jet escort?” he said over his shoulder as he exited her office.
Ariana groaned at the absurdity of that. She followed Max out and locked her door. “I trust they’re doing it as a training exercise rather than out of a belief that it’s a matter of national security. And to make our day even brighter, we can look forward to spending time with Brody,” she pointed out, referring to SDPD K-9 Unit officer Tom Brody, who was the airport’s primary contact when dealing with bomb-related threats or drills. Brody’s explosives detection canine partner, Nitro, was as efficient and effective as they came. Despite her phobia of dogs, Ariana had a far greater level of unease with Brody.
“No, we won’t,” Max interrupted her musings.
“Sorry. What?”
“We won’t be seeing Brody again. He’s no longer with the police department.” Max’s grin was bright and white, a sharp contrast against his dark complexion. “You hadn’t heard?” he asked as they jogged down the escalator.
She shook her head. “What happened?”
“The department is trying to keep it quiet, but I was told he’d been on the take from one of the Mexican drug cartels. In addition to his other endearing qualities, he reportedly had a gambling addiction he had to feed. Even worse, there was something about a personal vendetta against one of his colleagues.” Max’s smile dimmed. “From what I understand, it’s sordid stuff. If the allegations are substantiated and he’s convicted, he’ll do a long stretch of time.”
Ariana let out a hiss of disgust. How on earth did guys like that get on the police force when they’d rejected her because of a simple heart murmur? She understood the rationale intellectually—but emotionally it festered. “Who are they sending instead?” she asked.
The smile was back on Max’s face. “The captain of the K-9 Unit, Logan O’Connor. The renowned Jagger himself!” he added, bringing up the captain’s police department nickname.
Oddly, Ariana had never met the captain during the year she’d been in her job. It wouldn’t take much to be an improvement over Brody, but she’d heard O’Connor was a first-rate cop and an admirable leader. She was about to find out if that was true.
* * *
LOGAN O’CONNOR WAS feeling mean as a badger. He was on his way to the San Diego airport to deal with an absurd situation involving a couple of inebriated women uttering a bomb threat on a plane. And he was doing it after a long day, following another mostly sleepless night. To add to his annoyance, this was a call that Tom Brody should’ve been taking, if he hadn’t been suspended from the department. Logan shook his head, as much in frustration as to clear his groggy brain.
He couldn’t spend many more nights consoling Becca over her broken heart, or he would lose his sanity. Sometimes relationships just weren’t meant to be.
No wonder he preferred the single life—easy and commitment-free. The promise he’d made to himself because of his mother was important, but so was avoiding complications.
What he wouldn’t have given to spend last night in his own bed. Instead, he’d sat with Becca on her sofa. When she’d ultimately cried herself out and drifted into a troubled sleep, he’d carried her to her bed. Then, as the first tentative streaks of pink and orange had stained the sky, he and Boomer, his explosives detection canine partner, had left Becca’s apartment to return to his own house.
By the time he’d changed, gulped down a strong cup of black coffee, ate a stale muffin and made it to work, he was just in time for the start of his shift.
When he’d finally left the division, the call came in about the situation at the airport. Thanks to Brody’s transgressions, Logan was now the only explosives detection handler on the K-9 Unit. Instead of going home, he was heading to the airport to inspect a plane that almost certainly didn’t contain any explosive devices. At least it would be an opportunity for him to observe rookie K-9 officer Shannon Clemens—whom he was still assessing for a specialization—to see if she had a feel for explosives detection.
Logan stopped his SDPD-issue Ford Explorer at the security gate leading to the airport’s infield and lowered his window. He showed his badge to the security guard. He saw Shannon pull up behind him, and the guard inspected her credentials, too. While he waited for the gate arm to be raised, he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve the dull ache that pulsed there.
The gate arm rose and Logan followed the pavement markings to the aircraft’s designated holding area. He’d been advised the plane had just landed and that security was already there, along with the SDPD officers currently on duty at the airport.
Nearing the location, he saw two airport vehicles and an SDPD cruiser. Three civilian males and a female were standing by the cars, along with two policemen. Logan’s attention was immediately drawn to the statuesque brunette in the middle of the group. She was slim, and dressed in narrow-legged navy pants, a matching jacket and practical, low-heeled shoes. Her dark hair—and she seemed to have plenty of it—was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck.
He parked beside the cruiser and released Boomer from the back of his vehicle. Affixing the dog’s leash to his collar, he waited for Shannon to park and do the same with her dog, Darwin.
As they approached the group, Logan could see that the woman had light blue eyes, a dramatic contrast to the olive skin and dark hair. He noted the strong cheekbones, arched eyebrows and full, unpainted lips. Along with the stunning looks, she appeared capable. From the confident stance and the air of authority, he could readily see she was in charge. Based on that and the fact that she was the only female in the group, he guessed she was Ariana Atkins, head of security for the airport. He hadn’t met her before, but he’d heard she was good...and tough. They’d neglected to mention she was beautiful, too.
The three men gathered around her must have been members of her team. The cops he recognized as being from the airport contingent of his division.
Logan greeted the officers first, then extended a hand to Ariana. Although she offered hers, her gaze swung to Boomer and she seemed to withdraw from him.
Well, what do you know? She doesn’t like dogs.
“Boomer, sit, stay,” Logan commanded. “Ms. Atkins. I’m Captain Logan O’Connor.” When he released her hand, she moved slightly to her left and away from where Boomer sat sedately.
Logan introduced Shannon and the two dogs, and also shook hands with the members of Ariana’s team.
“Thank you for coming, Captain, Officer Clemens,” Ariana said, keeping a cautious eye on the dogs.
When Boomer opened his mouth to pant, Ariana took two small, hurried steps back.
“Ah, here’s the plane in question,” she noted, looking over Logan’s shoulder.
They watched the Boeing 767 wide-body, twin-engine jet taxi slowly into place. A deafening roar briefly drowned out all other noise as a fighter jet soared overhead. Incredulous, Logan turned to Ariana. “A fighter jet escort?”
She shrugged. “Probably a training exercise.”
“That would make sense.” Logan was having trouble keeping his eyes off her. It was more than her appearance. There was an indefinable quality about her that appealed to him. He forced himself to concentrate on the situation that had brought him to the airport. “Nothing came up on the two women involved when we ran them.”
Ariana nodded. “That corroborates what we know. Not surprising. The two women are barely out of college and this, we’re told, was supposed to be a celebration of the start of their so-called independence.”
“Heck of a way to start.”
“I hope their field of study wasn’t law. This little fiasco is likely to leave a smear on their record.”
Logan noticed the slight curving of Ariana’s lips and returned the smile. He was feeling distinctly better than when he’d arrived. Damn, she was beautiful. In addition, she was clearly smart and had a sense of humor. She was the whole package.
He directed his concentration to the approaching plane. It shimmered in the dry heat rolling in waves off the asphalt. He couldn’t resist a sideways glance at Ariana. Her body was angled toward the aircraft. Loose strands of dark chestnut-brown hair fanned around her face. The sharp line of her cheekbone, small straight nose and what he could only think of as pouty lips, drawn in a straight line as she watched the plane advance, made for a profile as striking as her face head-on.
Focus, O’Connor. You’re here to do a job.
Ariana’s phone signaled an incoming call. She stepped away, had a brief conversation and walked back.
“They’re ready for us. We’ll get the mobile staircase in place. Those buses—” She motioned to their right. “They’re for the passengers, to take them to the terminal building once you’re finished with them.”
Another car pulled up as she was speaking. It was marked with the United States Homeland Security crest and the words Transportation Security Administration. A tall, slim man with a slight hunch to his shoulders and thinning blond hair got out and approached them.
“This is Federal Security Director Angus Stewart,” Ariana said. “FSD Stewart, meet Captain O’Connor and Officer Clemens of the SDPD K-9 Unit.”
“FSD Stewart,” Logan acknowledged the other man, mildly surprised by the lack of strength in his handshake and the clamminess of his palm. He had an immediate dislike for the TSA director. Judging by Ariana’s body language, she wasn’t a big fan either. “You don’t have explosives detection dogs at this airport?” Logan asked to confirm.
“No. We mostly rely on electronics trace detection technology.”
Logan wasn’t about to get into a debate with Stewart about the relative merits of the two methods of detection. The data showed that dogs were far superior in terms of accuracy and cost effectiveness.
“The report stated that the women were already inebriated when they boarded. Why were they let on the plane to begin with?” Stewart asked.
“Good question, and one I would like the answer to, as well,” Ariana responded.
“If someone had done their job, it could’ve saved us all a lot of hassle.”
The cat’s-eye shape of Ariana’s lids, which hinted at some exotic heritage, narrowed as she held Stewart’s gaze. “FSD Stewart,” she began in a voice that could have doused a raging fire. “Of course you’re aware that passenger boarding is the responsibility of the airline.”
Prickly, Logan thought, but somehow that just made her more intriguing.
“Yeah, I’m aware of that. If the women were that drunk, shouldn’t the people doing the boarding have called security?”
Her light blue irises were icy as a glacier, but she remained silent. Logan had the odd sensation of wanting to squirm even though her steady-eyed scrutiny wasn’t directed at him.
“They didn’t call security nor did they report it to their own management, correct?” Stewart persisted. “They just took the path of least resistance and let the women board.”
“That’s right.”
“This is a ridiculous and unnecessary use of our time due to sloppy procedures,” Stewart sneered.
Despite the improvement in Logan’s disposition, the headache that had been brewing behind his temples began to throb. He longed for his bed. He shifted from one leg to the other. “Yeah, I can understand your frustration,” he cut in. “You must have a lot on your plate, implementing all those recommendations from the Inspector General’s office.” He resented Angus’s jabs at Ariana. He put it down to how tired and irritable he was that the nasty comeback was out of his mouth before he realized it. He’d implicitly referenced the colossal failure of the TSA in a covert testing of its practices conducted by Homeland Security’s Office of the Inspector General a year ago. The classified results had been leaked and were very much in the public domain. Included in the recommendations was one for the TSA to introduce more dogs, especially at larger airports. Angus must not have gotten the memo.
Angus’s sharp intake of breath told Logan he’d hit the mark. He noted that Ariana’s expression remained inscrutable, but her eyes sparkled. She mouthed the words “thank you.”
He acknowledged it with a slight incline of his head and, when Angus wasn’t looking, a quick grin.
They waited as the mobile staircase was moved into position.
“If everyone is ready, we can start the deplaning,” Logan said and glanced at Stewart for confirmation. The FSD didn’t seem eager to take charge. TSA had jurisdiction, but without detection dogs there was little they could do in this situation. “Okay, then.” Logan turned to Ariana. “Two hundred and six passengers and crew in total, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Boomer and I’ll check them for explosives before they board the buses. Officer Clemens and Darwin will assist. Once the passengers are all off, we’ll sweep the aircraft.”
“I’ll need you to take the two women involved to the division,” Logan addressed the other cops. “Ms. Atkins,” he turned to her again.
“Ariana is fine.”
“All right, Ariana. I would appreciate it if members of your team could hold all passengers until we’re done with the aircraft.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Anything you’d like to add?” Logan asked Stewart.
“No. Let’s get this done,” he grumbled.
Man, no wonder TSA had problems, Logan thought as the passengers started to disembark.
Although Darwin was still in training, Logan had Shannon do the primary check of passengers with her dog. It was good experience under low-risk conditions.
They deplaned the two women first. The other passengers followed, their irritation apparent. Who could blame them? They were losing valuable vacation time.
Logan did his best to ignore the pounding in his head, and to be polite and pleasant as he and Boomer did a brief secondary check. When all passengers had disembarked, he and Boomer, aided by Shannon and Darwin, went to work on the aircraft itself. An hour later, and with the headache hammering so hard behind his eyes it made it almost impossible for him to see, Logan led Boomer down the stairs, Shannon and Darwin right behind him.
“Good job, Shannon.” He bent down to scratch Darwin’s ear. “You did great, too,” he praised the dog. “I’ll see you tomorrow to debrief,” he said to Shannon.
“I can go back to the division with you now, if you’d like.”
Logan couldn’t fault her for enthusiasm, but going back to the division was the last thing he wanted to do. “Thanks for offering, but there’s no need. We can cover it tomorrow.”
“Great. Thanks.” Shannon said her goodbyes and headed back to her SUV with Darwin.
As Logan and Boomer walked back to where Ariana, Max and the others waited, all eyes were on him, but it was Ariana’s gaze he held. It surprised him that he felt a powerful tug of attraction despite his blinding headache. “The aircraft’s clear,” he announced, trying not to stare at her. “There was no sign of explosives on board. Not unexpected.”
Ariana glanced at Boomer, but held her position. “No, it’s not,” she agreed, her gaze lingering a moment longer on the dog. “You’ve taken the women into custody?”
Logan nodded, and just that slight movement made his head feel as if it was about to explode. “Yeah. They should be on their way to the division by now.” He glanced around, noting that Stewart and his car were gone, too. “What happened to the FSD?”
“He had more pressing matters to attend to.”
There was that hint of a smile again. Logan wished he was feeling better so he could’ve taken some time to get to know her. That wasn’t happening today, though. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for your cooperation,” he mumbled and started to move toward his vehicle.
“That’s it?” Ariana called after him. “Officer Brody usually stayed on site to discuss the incident with us.”
Logan turned back. He nearly winced from the sharp pain that cleaved through this head. “I’ll write up a report at the division. You’ll have a copy tomorrow.” Answering his phone when it vibrated, he trudged off with Boomer beside him.
* * *
ARIANA STOOD WITH the other members of her team and watched Logan’s retreating back. He was tall and fit, as would be expected for his job. The short-cropped black hair and the way he moved would have told her “cop” even if she didn’t already know it. She hadn’t expected to like him, but she did. He’d scored major points with her when he’d taken that shot at the FSD. Two other area airports were part of Angus’s responsibilities along with San Diego International. The average failure rate for the covert testing of the three was actually higher than the abysmal national average of 95 percent. And, Angus loved to criticize her.
Ariana liked the spirit Logan had displayed. Not many people would go toe-to-toe with a Transportation Security Administration director. Yet he appeared weary as he walked away. Uncharacteristic, from what she’d heard about him.
She felt a flutter in her belly, and this time it wasn’t caused by her unease with the dog trotting along beside him.
She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on his telephone conversation, but since her attention was focused on him, she unintentionally overheard his side of it.
“Look, Becca, I’m sorry I left while you were sleeping this morning, but I can’t be with you 24/7. I have a job, for Pete’s sake! You’ve got to...”
He was too far for Ariana to hear anything else. She found herself unexpectedly—and unreasonably—annoyed at what sounded like the cop having walked out on his girlfriend. Or was she bothered by the fact that he had a girlfriend?
Ridiculous!
She might have found him attractive, with that rough and rugged, macho thing he had going on, but she wasn’t interested in him...or anyone. Her career came first. She’d been in her job for barely a year, and in the airport industry that was nothing. In addition, she’d always avoided relationships in the workplace. Logan might not be employed by the airport, but it was close enough. Also, based on what she’d heard, he was seeing someone.
“Well, that was an incredible waste of time and money.”
Ariana spun around to face Dave Langdon, one of the supervisors in her department. A former SDPD officer, he’d worked at the airport for over ten years, first as a security guard and the last four as a supervisor. Dave was one of the people who consistently made her feel like a newbie. Conversely, she’d questioned time and time again why Dave had been kept on as long as he had. He might have experience, but his work ethic was lacking and she couldn’t find a kinder phrase to describe him than “mean-spirited.” She knew he’d applied for her job, and it didn’t surprise her that he’d been passed over.
“Do you have a problem with the FAA protocols, Dave?” she retorted, referring to the Federal Aviation Administration.
“Nah. It’s just a lot of trouble for two drunken women. You know how the airport’s CEO and the board are all about keeping expenses down these days. This’ll cost us and the airline.”
“What would you have done differently?” Ariana asked, her voice cool and professional. It wasn’t her style to challenge an employee in front of others.
Dave had defied her authority before. It had never been overt enough for her to call him on it officially, but it had been an undercurrent since she’d been in her position. Now he was sounding a lot like FSD Stewart and doing it in front of two other members of her team, who stood silent and watching.
“It always has to be your way, doesn’t it? Those of us who’ve been on the job would do it differently.” He stalked off before she could respond.
And there it was again. That disdainful tone he used with the innuendo that he was better than she was, because he’d been a police officer. She didn’t think Dave had any way of knowing about her failure to get on the force because of her health condition, but he seemed to like dropping those little barbs. She’d worry about that later.
Seeing the outrage on Max’s face, she gave him a look that left no doubt that she didn’t want to talk about Dave. The other security officer, a young man she’d hired recently, was obviously uneasy with what he’d heard, if the pink tips of his ears and the fact that he was preoccupied with studying his shoes were indications. She couldn’t be concerned about his reaction either. Right now, she still had work to do.
Dave hadn’t been far off in his “waste of time and money” comment, she thought as she drove back to the terminal building with Max. She’d already squandered at least five hours of her own time getting the report writing and follow-up done. Considerable departmental resources had also been expended. Since the cuts, she didn’t have a lot of room in her budget.
She understood that as nonsensical as it might seem to have brought the plane back, the pilot had no real choice once a threat had been made, despite the considerable expense to the airline and the airport. She hoped the women had learned an important lesson.
It had been a shock, although not an unpleasant one, to learn that Officer Tom Brody was gone from the police department.
She wondered again how a guy like Brody had been able to get on the force in the first place.
Ariana’s thoughts veered back to Logan as she unlocked her office. She was glad that she wouldn’t have to see Brody again, although she wasn’t convinced that SDPD K-9 Unit captain Logan O’Connor would be easier to deal with, for entirely different reasons.
As much as Ariana tried to concentrate while she worked on her report, Logan kept creeping back into her thoughts. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing, and it would be difficult to find fault with him professionally from what she’d seen. And on a personal level? When Logan smiled, he was hard to resist. But what was all that she’d overheard about him sneaking out on his girlfriend in the middle of the night?
She was attracted to him, no question, but he was definitely off-limits.
With her mind wandering, Ariana lost track of where she’d been in her report to her boss. She had to finish it before she could go home. She refocused, and ten minutes later she clicked Send. The email, with her report attached, was on its way to Calvin Murdoch, the airport’s chief executive officer.
The final task of her day complete, she felt as if she’d crashed into a wall. She hated to think of the mood she’d be in tomorrow, if she didn’t get home and recharge.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_650d128b-ce74-51dc-8a17-516ed95609d8)
ALL LOGAN WANTED to do was fall into bed and get some sleep. He didn’t care that it wasn’t even nine yet. As soon as he took the turn onto his street, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Becca’s red Mustang was parked in his driveway. As he got closer, he could see her sitting on the bottom step of his porch, legs crossed, elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her fisted hands.
Although she had a key to his place, she must have forgotten it.
She looked sad and forlorn. He couldn’t hold back the sigh, but thankfully it escaped before he’d gotten out of his SUV. As soon as he let Boomer jump out of the back, the dog bounded over to Becca, enthusiastically nuzzling and licking her. She shoved Boomer’s head away and wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Logan leaned against his truck and folded his arms across his chest. He’d figured if anyone could cheer Becca up, it would’ve been Boomer. Yet she just kept pushing him away. He resolved the impasse by climbing into her lap—no easy feat for an eighty-five-pound dog. Boomer whimpered and rested his head on Becca’s shoulder. Finally giving in, Becca wrapped her arms around the dog and buried her head in his glossy fur.
Almost instantaneously, her body convulsed with sobs.
Logan sighed again, and dropped down on the step, draping his arm around her.
“Men...are...horrid,” she managed between sniffles.
It was the same refrain Logan had been hearing for days now. He turned his head toward her. “Yes, we are. It’s a burden we have to bear.”
Becca jerked her head up, bumping his chin. Logan let out a muffled “ouch.”
“No, I didn’t mean you,” she protested.
He tested his jaw, and rubbed it to ease the discomfort. He’d always known she had a hard head, but this was the first time he’d felt the brunt of it physically. “I’m a man, aren’t I?”
She gave him a watery smile. “Brothers, especially good ones like you, don’t fall into that category.”
He was relieved to see the smile, as feeble as it might have been. It was the first he’d seen from her in days, since she’d broken up with that punk Winslow after she’d caught him cheating on her. Becca had done the right thing, but Logan hated to see her hurt. So much so, he was tempted to have a chat with Winslow—what kind of a name was Winslow anyway? “There are lots of women who might disagree with you,” he joked, hoping to keep her spirits up.
“What do they know?” she said, and her smile firmed.
Sleep was overrated, Logan decided. Becca had been his top priority since they’d lost their parents. Since then, it had been just him and his kid sister.
He wished he could’ve spared Becca the heartbreak of a first love gone wrong. As he couldn’t, the least he could do was support her and help her through it. “How about I throw some burgers on the grill and you make the salad?”
“It’s got to be nine o’clock by now,” Becca said with a hiccup.
“At least. Have you had dinner?”
She averted her gaze. “No.”
“Lunch?”
“I had a bowl of ice cream.”
Logan rose. “There you go. I’m making us dinner. I’ll even toss the salad myself.”
He held his hand out to her. When she placed hers into his, he tugged her to her feet, eliciting an annoyed whine from Boomer as he was dumped unceremoniously from her lap.
“C’mon,” he said and whistled for Boomer to follow.
* * *
DESPITE THE LATE NIGHT, Ariana was at work at seven the following morning, as usual. She didn’t get as much done the evening before as she’d hoped, because her thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the day and a tall, attractive cop. Although she could appreciate looks, they weren’t of highest importance on her list, so she didn’t understand why she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Logan.
She was walking through the passenger concourse when her phone rang. Seeing Max’s name and number on the caller ID, she answered without slowing her pace. “What’s up?”
She could tell right away that there was a problem, from the tone of his voice.
“We had another security breach early this morning. A passenger wandered out of the secure international departure lounge into the domestic area.”
“How did that happen?” Ariana asked, switching her phone to her other ear.
“The door had been left propped open.”
“What? That can’t be right.”
“Sadly it is.”
“But that’s a secure door. Only about twenty of us can open it.” Ariana moved to the edge of the corridor and stopped. “Do we know who left the door open?”
“We checked the video footage. It was Dave Langdon. For whatever reason, he hung around the airport last night. He wasn’t on duty, but he didn’t go home after our incident yesterday. He must’ve slept in the office and gone out to the airfield early this morning. On his way back, he passed through from the international to the domestic area and left the door open. We have him on camera.”
“What was he doing on the airfield?”
“You’d have to ask him. My guess would be he went out to have a smoke. Can you believe it? All for the sake of saving himself a couple hundred yards of walking?”
Ariana did a slow turn to face the wall. “You’ve got to be joking. Even if he was stupid enough to do that, why didn’t the door alarm go off?” She knew it was programmed to do so.
“We’re trying to determine that.”
“Get me the video file. I want to see it as soon as possible. Check his restricted area identity card record for the entire evening, too, would you?”
“Sure. Why?”
“If he accessed any other secure areas while off duty, I want to know about it.”
“Okay.”
“And the passenger? What happened to him?”
“It seemed to be an honest mistake. We took him through security again and to his proper departure lounge. He’s probably boarding his flight now.”
“Was there anyone else impacted?” Ariana was hoping not, given the earliness of the hour. If other passengers were involved, in addition to inconveniencing them, it could have caused flight delays.
“Fortunately not.”
“All right. Let’s discuss it once I’ve had a chance to watch the video. And I want to see Dave, if he’s here.” This could be the last strike for Dave Langdon, if in fact he had left that door open. “Wait, are you in your office now?”
“I am.”
“And you’ve got the video file cued up?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m closer to your office than mine.” Max was in the terminal, near the screening areas, for rapid response if needed. Her space was in the administration section. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Ariana holstered her phone. Since the day she’d started, she’d been trying to tighten security at the airport. If she’d learned one thing from her time working for a private security company before she’d joined San Diego International, policies and protocols had to be tight, effective and strictly adhered to. Not that her predecessor had been lax, but times had changed, and she’d been steadily making improvements to the extent her budget allowed. The TSA covert testing outcome had been a wake-up call. Yet every time she felt she took a step forward, there seemed to be something else that dragged her back. She bought two coffees on her way to Max’s office. Handing one to him as she entered, she placed the other on the corner of his desk. “Show me.”
Max held his chair out for her and started the video clip. Dave’s face wasn’t visible, but his movements, general body type and the clothing he wore—the same he’d had on that day—left little doubt that it was him. And if that wasn’t damning enough, Max confirmed that Dave had used his access card to open the door.
When the video segment ended, Ariana rose. Leaning against Max’s desk, she took a sip of her coffee. “Dave’s not stupid. He’d realize we’d know it was him. Does he want to get fired?”
Max shrugged. “I can’t answer that. I’ve never been able to figure the guy out.”
“Is he in the building?”
“Last time I checked before you got here, yeah.”
“Get him to my office in fifteen minutes. I need to talk to Human Resources first.”
* * *
IT WAS A crazy morning for Ariana. As much as she disliked Dave Langdon’s attitude, she hated firing people more. Human Resources had supported her decision and the deed was done. Dave had tried to deny that it was him. He’d claimed that he’d stayed at the airport overnight because he and his wife had had an argument that morning, and she’d kicked him out. He claimed that he’d slept in the office and hadn’t been walking around. That it must’ve been someone else who’d lifted his card and accessed the secure area.
He made the point that he’d changed, as she could see for herself, so the clothes he’d worn yesterday had been stuffed into his locker. He suggested someone could have taken them. When he’d realized that she wasn’t buying it, that she was really going to terminate him, he’d become belligerent and threatening. So much so that she reminded him she could have him escorted off airport property immediately. In the end, she persuaded him that wouldn’t be in his best interest, and allowed him to save face. She let him pack up his belongings, and Max walked him out.
The rest of the day hadn’t gone much better for Ariana. It seemed to be one niggling problem after another. It was well past six when she finally left.
Ariana let herself into her apartment, tossed her bag and keys on the hall table, and pulled the restraining band from her ponytail. She dragged her fingers through the length of her hair, slipped out of her shoes and placed them neatly inside the hall closet.
By the time she’d finished, her cat had sauntered over. She bent down and stroked her tortoiseshell-and-white coat. “Hey, Sabrina. How was your day? Better than mine, huh?” she murmured.
Taking her briefcase and placing it on the dining room table, she walked into the kitchen, pulled a Coke Zero out of the fridge and took a drink straight from the can. A second long drink went a considerable way to soothing her parched throat.
Soda can in hand, she walked back to the dining room and set up her laptop.
Her apartment had two bedrooms. The smaller one was configured as an office, but she seldom used it. If she had to work, which she did most nights, she preferred to do it with a view of the ocean, visible through the dining room window.
As her computer booted up, she made herself a large spinach salad for dinner and hunkered down with her laptop to catch up on her emails and various other mundane matters that she hadn’t gotten to during the day. If she had time, she wanted to review her risk map, to decide which area she would next target for improvement.
With a long-suffering meow, Sabrina threaded between her ankles a few times. Ariana couldn’t resist picking her up and taking comfort from cuddling her for a few minutes. When she placed Sabrina back on the ground, the cat leaped onto a chair, curled up and in minutes was snoring contentedly.
Ariana kept working for as long as she felt she was being productive, crawling into bed near midnight.
It seemed she’d just rested her head on the pillow when her alarm went off at five thirty. With bleary eyes and a sluggish body, she got ready for work and wished for a quieter day.
Thankfully, it turned out to be uneventful. Ariana did some follow-up on the incident involving the two drunken women and initiated the hiring process to find Dave’s replacement. On the plus side, she had the opportunity to tour a group of schoolchildren through the airport’s emergency operations center. By late afternoon, she had her second wind and was feeling energized rather than drained. She was engrossed in a proposal Max had presented to her for upgrading their security cameras in the parking garages. An enhanced video management system was her current focus.
The knock on her door frame caused her to jump, and she pressed a hand to her racing heart. Spinning her chair around, she felt her heart rate accelerate further.
Logan stood in the doorway, dressed in indigo jeans and a pale blue polo shirt. She glanced down quickly to see if Boomer was with him. Not seeing the dog, she shifted her gaze back to Logan. He had one arm causally braced against the jamb, the stance emphasizing the muscles in his arm and torso. His dark hair glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights of the corridor. He had a smile on his lips and in his eyes. And those intense blue eyes mesmerized her.
“I’m sorry to startle you,” he said, drawing her out of her reverie.
Realizing her hand was still on her chest, she lowered it. “Oh, it’s not your fault. I was reviewing a report and must’ve been absorbed in it.” She felt her lips curve in response to his smile.
“I was here debriefing with the officers on site,” Logan said. “We were discussing new operating procedures in view of what happened the day before yesterday. I wanted to fill you in and see if there were any new developments on your end.”
She shook her head. “No. We’ve closed the file on that incident. Have the two women been charged?”
“Oh, yeah!” He gave her that appealing smile. “So do you have a few minutes or do you need to get back to your report?”
She glanced at her watch.
“We can do it some other time,” he suggested. “If you’re busy right now.”
Ariana realized she didn’t want him to go, and it wasn’t just professional curiosity as to what the SDPD’s new procedures were. “No, that’s okay. I’m ready to call it a day. Come in.”
Logan dropped his arm and took a step forward, but paused, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Since you’re calling it a day, why don’t we get out of here? I’ll buy you a coffee or, better yet, a drink. We could probably both use one.”
Ariana was about to agree. Then his conversation with his girlfriend, Becca, came to mind. She opened her mouth to decline.
“We can discuss the procedures,” he said quickly before she could respond, and cast his gaze around her small, sparsely furnished office. “But in a more comfortable environment. If you don’t already have plans, I’ll throw in dinner to sweeten the pot.”
There was that smile again. Ariana laughed. “No need for dinner, but okay to getting out of here.” It was going to be a business discussion, that’s all. She routinely had coffee or lunch with men in the course of her duties—her profession was male-dominated. Why would it be any different with Logan? Whether he had a girlfriend or not was irrelevant. The butterflies in her stomach aside, it was going to be nothing more than business. “Let’s go have a coffee,” she said.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a1876c65-09d7-5124-9314-af60aa6d23a0)
BY THE TIME they reached Ariana’s car, Logan had somehow convinced her to have a drink with him instead. He suggested Buster’s Beach House Bar.
Ariana had never been there, but Logan must have frequented the place, if the number of people who said hello or had a quick word with him were any indication.
He motioned for her to precede him to the back of the room, and she slid into a corner booth. A waitress appeared almost before he sat down.
“Hey, Carly,” Logan greeted her.
“Good to see you, Jagger. The usual?” she asked and gave him a flirtatious smile. It made Ariana wonder about the relationship Logan and the waitress had. She felt guilty about her curiosity as soon as Carly turned an equally warm and welcoming smile on her. “And for you?”
Ariana found herself smiling back. “What’s his usual?”
“Corona, with a slice of lime, straight from the bottle.”
“I’ll have the same but with a glass. Thanks.”
“Sure thing,” Carly said, placing two cardboard coasters on the scarred wooden table.
“I was wrong,” Logan said after Carly left.
“Wrong about what?”
“I would’ve bet a month’s salary that you’d be a wine drinker. A white—smooth and well-chilled.”
Ariana laughed. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been known to have a glass of chardonnay or sauvignon blanc now and again. Working in the field that I do, beer has become an acquired taste. Hanging around so many men, I’ve learned to enjoy a frosty glass of Corona as much as a glass of wine. So, tell me, how’d you get the nickname Jagger?”
Logan cleared his throat and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed uncomfortable with her question and appeared relieved when the waitress returned.
“Appreciate it, Carly,” he said, when she placed the bottles and glass, along with a small bowl of nuts, in front of them.
“I like adaptability in a person,” he said with a chuckle when they were alone again, gesturing to her beer.
Obviously he wanted to change the subject.
He raised his bottle and clinked it to Ariana’s glass, then took a long, slow sip. “What made you choose security as a career?” he asked.
“I thought you wanted to discuss your new procedures.”
“I do. It doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other a little first. With Brody gone, we’re likely to be working together again.” He flashed her a smile.
Ariana placed her glass back on the coaster, reached for a candied nut, popped it in her mouth. Okay, they could play it his way. She was curious about him, too. “It matters to me to make a difference. Keeping people safe is important.”
“And why the airport?”
She tilted her head. “I’ve been fascinated by airplanes since I was a kid. My father was an engineer. He went to school in England, where his father was from. I learned about mechanics and laws of physics from an early age, but to this day I remain in awe of the fact that we can get a nearly four-hundred-thousand-pound, one-hundred-and-fifty-or sixty-foot wingspan piece of machinery, loaded with people and cargo, into the air, and it stays there over great distances.” She laughed. “Silly, I know, but flying fascinates me.”
“I never thought of it that way.” He watched her for a few moments. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look British.”
“My grandfather was English. My grandmother, Brazilian.”
His long, contemplative gaze caused all sorts of odd sensations inside her.
“That explains it,” he said, and surprised her by touching the back of her hand. “And it explains the color of your hair. But where does the eye color come from? Your father?”
She chuckled. “My mother’s side. She’s blonde and blue-eyed, as mostly everyone is on her side of the family. American for generations, but her ancestry is Swedish.”
“That’s an interesting combination. Do your parents live in California?”
“No. They moved back to England a couple of years ago. Enough about me,” she interjected before he could ask her more questions. She didn’t want him digging any deeper, even though she found it effortless to talk to him. “What about you? Why did you become a cop?”
“I wanted to make a difference,” he said with an easy smile, echoing her own words. “I wanted to contribute in a positive way to people’s lives. And it runs in my family. Both my father and grandfather were lifers on the job. My father was the chief of police for Burbank.”
She thought his eyes were clouded with sorrow for a moment.
“My parents, my mother in particular, might have wanted for a different career for me,” he continued. “Maybe a doctor or a lawyer, but that wasn’t happening. I wanted to be a cop as far back as I can remember.”
His comment made her think of her own childhood dream of becoming a police officer, but she pushed it aside. “If you’re from Burbank, what brought you to San Diego?”
He raised a shoulder, let it drop again. “My dad was a hero. A figure larger than life. As much as I loved and admired him, I didn’t want to live in his shadow. I also wanted to know that I’d be making it on my own. Not because of who he was, what he’d accomplished or how highly people regarded him. I wanted it to be on my own merits. I wanted to build my own career.”
Ariana watched him carefully, searching for any sign of bitterness or envy, but all she saw was pride and admiration. To her, that said a lot about Logan, and it was all good. She saw a decency and a depth she hadn’t expected.
“Speaking of making a difference,” Ariana said with a smile. “What will happen to the women on Flight 396?”
Logan grunted. “Yeah, we made a big difference there! They’ve been charged, as I said. Public mischief. It’ll probably be reduced to a misdemeanor. Even before they sobered up, they were both bawling. It only got worse when their parents showed up.” The laughter was gone. “They won’t soon forget it. Nor should they.” He reached out, brushed his hand over hers again. “But it gave me a chance to meet you.”
His proximity and especially his touch triggered those sensations again. She absorbed the warmth that had come into his cool blue eyes. “There is that,” she said softly, and meant it, but she leaned back, subtly sliding her hand out from under his.
Logan reached for his bottle and took another drink. “So, will there be civil consequences for the women? They inconvenienced nearly two hundred other passengers, and the cost to the airline, the airport, not to mention the military for the fighter jet escort...” He rolled his eyes at that. “The expense has got to be substantial.”
Ariana didn’t know what to make of the feelings he was stirring up inside her and tried to remind herself of all the reasons why she wasn’t interested in him. With effort, she concentrated on the question he’d posed. “Yes, there are significant costs associated with the incident, but I don’t think there’ll be any legal action. The airline might do some posturing, mostly as a deterrent to other would-be troublemakers. They’ll have to cover costs associated with rebooking passengers who might’ve missed connecting flights to some of the outer islands and, if need be, overnight accommodations as well as the expense of bringing the plane back. Pursuing a claim against the women would cost them more money than they could hope to recover.” She shrugged. “The military escort? I have no idea how much that would’ve cost. We got confirmation that they used the incident as a training exercise, as we suspected. For the airport...” She smiled again. “It’s all in a day’s work for us. What about the police department?”
“All in a day’s work, too. For us, the real issue is that while we’re dealing with something like that, we’re not out there addressing real threats to the public. With our limited resources, it’s about trade-offs. We prioritize based on risk—likelihood and potential outcome. Though the likelihood of an explosive device being aboard that plane was deemed negligible, we couldn’t ignore it. That means we weren’t dealing with other matters.”
“I get that. There are never enough resources to do all that needs doing,” she murmured. She was thinking of her own department as much as the police.
“You’re right.”
Sipping her beer, she looked around. She watched a young couple sitting near the middle of the room and frowned.
“Hey, you with me here?”
Ariana shifted her gaze back to Logan and let out a short laugh. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s sort of a game I play, whenever I have a quiet moment in a public place.”
“What kind of game?”
This time the discomfort came through in her chuckle. “Since I was a kid, when I first decided I wanted to...” she’d been about to say “be a cop,” but caught herself “...to work in my field, I’ve tried profiling people. Maybe that’s the wrong word. I don’t mean like what law enforcement organizations do. Just reading people better, I suppose. I took a course in college, too. I do it mostly to amuse myself. It does come in handy at times in my field, though, as you can imagine. Studies have shown that profiling airport passengers based on their behaviors can be an effective adjunct to security screening. I like to watch people and try to figure out what they’re all about.”
She saw his eyes track to the couple she’d been observing. He motioned with his bottle toward them. “So, what’s their story?”
“Oh, I don’t think I want to do this. Certainly not with you!” She felt the heat on her cheeks and glanced away.
“Okay, how about I go first?”
That made her smile. “All right.”
He took a few moments to study the couple. She did the same and noted again how the man seemed to be attentive and interested, until the woman’s head was turned. Then his eyes landed on or followed the nearest female.
“They’re married, maybe five years,” Logan began. “No kids. He’s a midlevel manager. She’s probably in PR or advertising and earns more than he does. She loves him, although the shine has dulled over the years. He begrudges her some for being the higher-income earner, and he has a straying eye. Although he probably hasn’t cheated on her yet, it’s only a matter of time. He feels he’s entitled and believes he needs to do it to make himself feel more of a man.”
Her startled laugh erupted, and she put a hand over her mouth.
Logan turned incredulous eyes on Ariana. “You find that funny? That he’ll probably cheat on his wife?”
“No. No. That part is sad. It’s what you said about them. All of it.”
Logan smiled. “Are you laughing because you think it’s ludicrous or because you know I’m right?”
“The latter,” she said, still chuckling. “You’re good at this game!”
“So you agree?”
“Mostly. All the tells are there. The husband’s roving eye when she’s not paying attention. The fact that he handed her the bill when the waiter brought it, and so on.”
Logan nodded. “Now it’s your turn.”
Ariana scanned the room. She wanted to pick carefully to be as on the mark as he had been. Not only because of her competitive nature. Maybe it was silly, but it mattered that she gained his respect.
She was considering the man who’d just entered the bar when Logan motioned to the new arrival. “How about him?”
She scrutinized the tall Hispanic man standing with his back to them. “Okay,” she said. She had more or less settled on him already.
He was chatting with the occupants of a booth close to the entrance. His dark hair was longish, nearly reaching his collar. His clothes, although casual, were of good quality. Expensive. His stance and manner were confident. He was highly aware of his surroundings. When he turned his head, she could see he was attractive, but there was a dangerous—not quite tame—aura about him.
He was wearing a light windbreaker. She was experienced enough to recognize that he more than likely had a concealed weapon under it. Her smile faded and she shot a tense glance at Logan. He was watching her, heedless of the man, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Ariana leaned in. Her voice was low, her tone serious. “The man you picked? Don’t look!” she whispered as Logan’s gaze started to drift toward the man. It snapped back to her, and he had a considering expression on his face.
“He’s confident, self-aware,” she continued in an insistent whisper. “He’s not easily intimidated or one to shy away from confrontation. In some cases, he might welcome it. He seems dangerous and resigned...somehow fatalistic. He comes off as laid-back, relaxed, yet he’s intense and perceptive. He’s got money. Probably quite a lot, but he doesn’t flaunt it. My guess is he’s involved in the drug trade. Likely a drug dealer for a cartel out of Tijuana,” she concluded.
Logan started to smile and shifted his eyes again. She placed her hand hurriedly on top of his. “No. Don’t look,” she repeated urgently. “He’s carrying. I’m certain of it.” She glanced at the man. “Okay. He’s facing the other way. You can look now.”
Logan did, slowly and discreetly. Nonchalantly he took another drink, keeping his eyes in the general direction of the man they were discussing. Ariana saw the moment the man’s eyes met Logan’s. A look she couldn’t decipher passed between the two of them.
She saw the narrowing of Logan’s eyes, the tightening of his lips. A knot formed in her stomach. She wondered if the new arrival was known to Logan.
Ariana could only gape when Logan placed his bottle on the coaster, pointed a finger at the man and beckoned him to approach.
“What are you doing?” Ariana murmured uneasily.
Brows furrowed, he glanced at her briefly. “You’ll see. Just stay calm,” he added.
Ariana gazed back at the man as he sauntered up to their table. He aimed assessing eyes on her before meeting Logan’s gaze. “You want something?” he asked.
“I do. Yes,” Logan replied, leaning back in his chair.
Ariana’s heart was thundering. This close, she was more convinced that the man was carrying a gun. There was an element of fearlessness, almost recklessness, about him. She looked around quickly. The bar had filled while they’d been there. It was packed. There were people everywhere. What was Logan thinking, confronting a potentially dangerous criminal in a busy public place? If either of them drew a weapon, there were bound to be casualties.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Logan said in a tone that broached no argument, almost as if he’d read her thoughts.
Ariana nearly missed seeing the man’s mouth twitch, as if he was enjoying the confrontation that was unfolding between him and Logan. Could there have been something else going on here? Something she wasn’t aware of? Before she could explore that thought, the man slapped his palms on the table. “Good enough for you?” he asked with an amused drawl.
He found this funny? Not a good sign.
“Now, using your left hand only, empty your pockets,” Logan instructed. He tapped a finger on the tabletop in front of Ariana. “Put your possessions right there.”
What was Logan doing? Ariana wondered in alarm. Had he lost his mind? He hadn’t even identified himself as a cop. She had no time to deliberate further, as the man—surprisingly—did exactly what he’d been asked. It appeared he was enjoying himself, and that made no sense. Her earlier thought returned. Could this be a joke?
She watched the man draw objects out of his coat pocket first. A package of gum, a San Diego Padres ticket stub, a set of keys on a chain, a separate key on a Harley Davidson motorcycle key chain. When he reached for the front pocket of his jeans, Logan shot a hand out. “Easy now. Do it slowly.”
The man angled his head, seeming to be holding back a smile. He reached into his right front pocket with his left hand and slowly drew out its contents. Palming whatever he had in there, he held his hand out and let it hover over the table. He watched Logan expectantly.
Logan gestured to the small pile in front of Ariana. “Go ahead,” he encouraged.
The man spread his fingers.
Holding her breath, Ariana watched as the object clattered onto the table’s surface.
She was staring at a San Diego Police Department badge.
With narrowed eyes, she looked up at Logan.
“Ariana, meet Sergeant Rick Vasquez,” Logan said. “Rick, this is Ariana Atkins, head of security at the San Diego airport.” He motioned for Rick to take a seat.
Rick extended a hand to Ariana, which she shook briefly. He then sat in the chair next to Logan.
“Rick’s a member of the K-9 Unit,” Logan explained. “He specializes in narcotics. He’s now working with Tom Brody’s former canine partner, Nitro, and is retraining him for narcotics detection. Their job is to thwart the drug trafficking that takes place across the San Ysidro border between Mexico and the United States.”
Although Ariana had started to suspect it might have been a joke and could see the humor in it, she felt a little foolish. Logan must have realized it, as a tinge of red crept up his cheeks.
“You did great!” Logan assured her. “If Rick seems like a cartel operative, it’s with good reason. He’s supposed to. His job often requires him to go undercover.”
Logan held up his hands. “I’m sorry. Really. If it makes you feel better, you were right on with your assessment. You read Rick exactly the way a person is supposed to.”
There was no harm done. If Ariana had been in Logan’s shoes, she probably would have done the same thing. She smiled.
Rick appeared contrite, as well. “I was an accidental participant, but I apologize, too. As much as I’d love to stay, have a beer with you and find out what this was all about, I get the sense that I’m a third wheel.” He pushed out of his chair and grinned at Logan. “I’m going to leave you to each other.” Turning his smile on Ariana, he held out a hand to her again. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope our paths cross again, under more...conventional circumstances.” He rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “We’ll catch up tomorrow, Jagger.”
After Rick left, Logan gave Ariana a conciliatory smile. “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that. When I saw you zero in on Rick, it was just too tempting. Besides, you were right on the money. Rick has to be good enough to fool the cartel bosses—his life depends on it. If he can fool the cartel, he should be able to convince most people, including those in law enforcement.”
Logan had a point. If Rick didn’t have good cover dealing with the cartels, it could cost him his life. She glanced down at the glass in her hand, and felt the fatigue she’d been trying to stave off all day intensify. She sensed Logan’s eyes on her and looked up.
“You all right? I really didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It’s not that. I’m just tired. It’s been a long couple of days.”
“Yeah, it has. We both could use an early night.” Logan pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, much more than what two beers would’ve cost, and placed it on the table. He waved to Carly as they walked through the crowded room.
Nearing the door, Ariana suddenly turned, causing him to bump into her. This close up, his eyes were even bluer than she’d thought.
“Did you forget something?”
“Uh...we never discussed your new operating procedures.”
Logan chuckled and held the door open for her. “Good point. Rather than having you think it was a ploy to get you to go out with me, how do you feel about having dinner with me sometime soon to discuss them, so I can prove we really do have new procedures?” he asked when they’d stopped beside her car.
Ariana had enjoyed herself. Logan wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She was on the verge of saying yes when she remembered Becca.
She sensed Logan’s interest in her was more than professional and she was drawn to him—something that didn’t happen often. But if he had a girlfriend, she didn’t want to encourage him. A dinner with Logan would be more than strictly business.
She couldn’t say yes, but she couldn’t say no either, lost in those eyes of his again. “I’ll let you know,” she said, noncommittally.
As he said good-night and was about to leave, a thought occurred to her. “Was it?” she asked.
Logan paused. “Was what?”
“Was the idea of discussing your procedures a ploy? To get me to have a drink with you?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, and she could readily see his charm.
“That would’ve been conniving of me, wouldn’t it? And very unprofessional.” With a quick show of white teeth and a jaunty salute, he strode away toward his own vehicle.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_3674fed6-d399-5620-839b-7347d57b56b0)
ARIANA WASN’T ONE of those people who could function with little sleep over an extended period of time. She wasn’t a morning person either, regardless of the hours she kept at work. Refreshed and buoyant weren’t generally words she would apply to herself early in the morning, especially after only five hours of sleep. Yet this morning she was unarguably both!
And she was thinking of Logan O’Connor.
Maybe Logan’s relationship with Becca, whoever she was, wasn’t serious. He wouldn’t have asked her out, would he, if it was? Logan seemed decent and ethical. Or maybe she’d misinterpreted, and his suggestion to have dinner was entirely business-related. Had it been wishful thinking on her part? She was interested in him, although she had her reasons for why she shouldn’t be. Somehow, she couldn’t seem to recall exactly why some of those reasons had seemed so important.
She tried to remember the last time she’d had a serious relationship. It was before she started working at the airport.
She tried to put Logan out of her mind as she showered and dressed. Suddenly feeling lonely, she reminded herself to call her parents.
The day was uneventful and passed quickly, as did the following two. Ariana took the opportunity to catch up on routine reports and paperwork, and to get her team started on the tender for the enhanced video management system. Their technicians hadn’t been able to determine why the door that Dave Langdon had left open hadn’t set off an alarm, so she asked Max to get quotes to inspect all held-open and intrusion alarms at the airport. She hadn’t budgeted for it, but she’d have to find the money somehow.
That morning, Ariana received a call from her predecessor, George Dennison. They’d stayed in contact since his retirement. She still thought of him as a mentor, and she appreciated that he was always available if she wanted to bounce ideas off him or simply catch up. She regretted not having told George about the problems she had been experiencing with Dave, as George was stunned and dismayed when she informed him she’d terminated him.
She knew George had always prided himself on his team. Even so, it surprised her when he said he’d never had the slightest issue with Dave. That led Ariana to wonder if it was something lacking in her leadership style. George had been the one who encouraged her to apply for the position when he’d decided to retire. She hoped he wasn’t questioning his wisdom about that, but she was too busy to dwell on it for long.
Periodically throughout the day her thoughts returned to Logan. Would he call her to follow up on his invitation to dinner? Or was he expecting her to contact him? A couple of times she nearly picked up the phone, but she either talked herself out of it or was distracted.
By Friday afternoon, she was nearly up to date with work. If she put in a half day on Saturday, she’d be completely caught up.
At the light tap on her door frame, Ariana glanced up from the incident reports she was scrolling through on her computer. Cynthia, her executive assistant, stood in the doorway.
“It’s after six,” Cyn told her. “Why don’t you pack it in for the evening?”
Ariana smiled. “I will, but I want to go through the rest of today’s reports first.”
“The reports will be waiting for you Monday. Knowing you, you’ll get back to them tomorrow morning anyway. There’s nothing noteworthy. I already checked. Max and I, and some of the supervisors, are going to grab a drink at The Runway,” she said, referring to the popular bar in one of the hotels close to the airport. “We’d really like it if you joined us. It’s been a while since you’ve come out for an after-work drink.”
Ariana pushed back her hair and tucked it behind her ears. “Thanks for the invite, but I should finish the reports.” She pointed to a stack of file folders on her desk. “The work is piling up.”
Cyn came into the office and stopped in front of Ariana’s desk. “It would mean a lot if you came along. Everyone’s worried about you.”
That’s exactly what Ariana didn’t want. The department was under enough pressure right now with all the cost-cutting that had been going on. Not wanting to burden her team, she’d been carrying the brunt of it. She knew they looked to her to set the tone. If she avoided them, it would only make matters worse. Cyn was right.
Ariana offered a weak smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
She’d get everything done, even if it meant continuing to work at nights and on weekends, but they didn’t have to know that. She’d lead by example and show her team that all was well.
Even if it wasn’t entirely true.
“You’re right, Cyn. Thanks. I’ll meet you at The Runway in thirty minutes or so,” Ariana said and turned back to her computer screen.
“Nope.”
Ariana glanced up with surprise.
“If I leave you here, despite your best intentions, it’ll be a lot more than half an hour before you’re out the door. By then you’ll probably have changed your mind about joining us. Come now.”
Ariana sighed. She couldn’t argue with Cyn. They’d been working together for as long as she’d been at the airport, and Cyn knew her well. “Fine,” she conceded.
“Great!” A smile spread across Cyn’s face. “I’ll buy you your first drink.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Cyn shrugged. “I might as well. A couple of the guys bet me you wouldn’t show. I knew you would. There’s a twenty in it for me—times two.” She flaunted the smile again. “So, I might as well share the spoils with you. I’ll go freshen up, come back and get you. That’ll give you ten minutes to finish up.”
Ariana watched Cyn stroll out of her office. Her assistant’s parting comments were a wake-up call for her. Her team was betting against her—even if just related to social matters—and she couldn’t let that happen. As a leader, she needed to be present, calm and steady. She thought again about her discussion with George and wondered if she could have done anything differently with Dave.
She’d have to thank Cyn, she decided, as she sent off the authorization to proceed with the upgrade of the video management system in the parking area and shut down her computer. She pulled her handbag out of her bottom drawer, changed her practical work flats for a pair of high-heeled pumps and was running her brush through her hair when Cyn returned.
For Cyn, freshening up meant reapplying her makeup, undoing the updo she’d had her golden-blond hair in, and adding a slick coat of bright red lipstick. She’d also removed her off-white jacket, exposing the siren-red sleeveless dress she wore beneath.
“All set?” Cyn asked.
“Absolutely. And thanks,” Ariana added softly.
The Runway was busy, as it usually was on a Friday night. They bypassed the entrance to the restaurant on their way to the lounge and squeezed by the throng gathered by the bar.
Ariana watched with amusement as heads turned their way, the men no doubt giving the undeniably beautiful Cyn appreciative glances.
The crowd was eclectic as always, a mixture of traveling business executives on layover, airport workers, law enforcement types assigned to the airport, construction tradesmen, and women either there to mingle with the men or—Ariana knew plenty about the seedier side of executive travel—those working and hoping to meet a john.
She was relieved when they made it through the worst of the congestion and incredibly loud noise, and she spotted the table that their group had commandeered.
Max rose and waved to them from across the room. It warmed Ariana to see the genuine pleasure on the faces of her team members when they saw her. She smiled and waved back. As they wound their way between the tables, Ariana’s attention was drawn by loud cheers from a group to the left. She recognized a couple of faces and frowned. Logan’s coal-black hair and brilliant blue eyes were unmistakable. Also at the table was the other cop...Sergeant Rick Vasquez. The one she’d met at Buster’s Beach House Bar. There was another man with them. Judging by the haircut and demeanor, she assumed he was a cop, too, but one she’d not seen at the airport. The three cops were surrounded by a bevy of attractive women. The two on either side of Logan were the most striking of the group. A slender, elegant blonde sat on his right, and the most stunning redhead Ariana had ever seen was on his left.
Just as she and Cyn reached their table, out of the corner of her eye, Ariana noticed Logan push out of his chair, nearly toppling it, and draw the redhead out of hers and into his arms. The redhead wasn’t petite by any means, but Logan lifted her off her feet as if she weighed no more than a feather. He spun her around before giving her a smacking kiss on the lips.
“Now, why can’t I have luck like that with women?” Max murmured into Ariana’s ear as he pulled a chair out for her, thankfully not giving her direct view of the table where Logan was. “That guy earns the right to his nickname.”
After greeting everyone, Ariana tried hard to keep her gaze from wandering back to Logan and gave Max a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
Max chuckled. “You haven’t heard about how he got his nickname?”
She shook her head, not wanting to admit that she’d been curious about it.
“You do know O’Connor’s nickname is Jagger, right?”
She nodded. “As in Mick Jagger? Thank you,” she said to the waitress when she was handed a glass of white wine.
“I took the liberty of ordering for you when Cyn texted me that you were on your way.” Max raised his bottle of beer to her glass and tapped it with a clink. “Good to see you out. As I was saying, yes, as in the Rolling Stones.”
“He sings?” she asked, incredulously.
Max laughed, barely managing not to spit beer on everyone around the table, and caused heads to turn his way. “No. He earned his nickname because of his moves with women. Mick Jagger is famously successful with them.” Max made a subtle gesture with his bottle toward Logan. “It seems the captain shares that trait.”
The image of Logan lifting the gorgeous redhead into the air and placing his lips on hers was vivid in Ariana’s mind. Against her better judgment, she peered around Cyn, seated on her other side, and cast a furtive glance at Logan. He was sitting down again and leaning back in his chair, a huge grin on his face. He had an arm draped around the back of each of the chairs occupied by the redhead and the blonde. When his hand squeezed the redhead’s shoulder and he whispered something to her, her rich and sensual laugh could be heard clearly. As Ariana watched, the redhead leaned in and rested her head against Logan’s shoulder briefly before glancing at Rick.
Was the redhead Becca? Ariana experienced an unusual sensation watching the vignette. Trying to put a name to the feeling, she astonished herself. Jealousy? She was feeling jealous, watching the cop she barely knew with a woman! “Well, more power to him,” she grumbled in response to Max’s statement. “As long as he does his job and does it well for us, what he does with his personal time is no concern of ours.”
* * *
LOGAN WAS THRILLED for Rick and Madison. His sergeant and the K-9 Unit’s veterinarian had just announced their engagement. If that wasn’t enough happy news, Cal Palmer, one of his best K-9 officers, and his wife, Jessica, were expecting their first child together, to join Cal’s daughter, Haley, from his first marriage, and Cal and Jessica’s adopted daughter, Kayla. They had a lot to celebrate. When Rick had announced the engagement, Logan had been the first to sweep Madison up into his arms and congratulate her, before he gave a hearty bear hug to Rick, too.
He glanced at the blonde on his right. He wouldn’t have known Jessica was pregnant if they hadn’t announced it, despite the pregnancy being nearly four months along. His colleagues across the table, Rick and Cal, were both wildly in love with their women. Logan couldn’t have been happier for them. Their impromptu celebration included Shannon Clemens, the newest addition to the K-9 Unit, and the unit’s administrative assistant, Beth. Madison had invited two of her colleagues from the Mission Bay Veterinary Clinic: Heather, their office manager, and Jane, one of the other veterinarians who used to work with the SDPD dogs until Madison had come along. As Logan listened to what Heather was saying, he noticed a table behind her, at the far end of the room.
She sat tall and erect, long dark auburn hair hanging more than halfway to her waist. Her back was to him and partially blocked from his view, but there was no mistaking the thick, pin-straight hair or the quarter profile he glimpsed. He’d just been thinking about how lucky his friends and colleagues were to have found such special women: intelligent, warm, caring and—never one to underestimate the importance of it—beautiful, and Ariana had popped into his thoughts. He’d meant to call her, but then one thing after another had come up. Or, if he was honest, he’d avoided it because he was wary of the emotions she’d stirred in him in the short time he’d known her.
As if he’d conjured her, she was sitting not more than a hundred feet from him. He saw her flick her hair back and laugh.
Logan tried but was unable to keep his eyes from repeatedly drifting back to her. When she rose, said what appeared to be goodbyes and slung the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, he stood, too, as if drawn by a magnet.
“Enjoy the rest of the evening,” Logan said to the table in general.
“Leaving so soon?” Rick inquired. “I figured my engagement might be worth a few more rounds at least.”
Logan chuckled. “Believe me, we’ll have many more rounds for an occasion as monumental as this. Besides, I’m driving tonight.” He glanced toward the front of the room, and saw Ariana winding her way through the crowd around the bar. He noted more than a few admiring glances cast her way and what he assumed were pickup lines, as well. “Uh...I just remembered something I have to do.”
He kissed Madison’s cheek and shook Rick’s hand. “I’m very happy for you two.” He offered congratulations to Jessica and Cal a final time. With a wave to everyone else at the table, he hurried out of the lounge.
Logan was glad he’d decided to follow Ariana when he saw that someone else had the same idea. Except Logan was convinced that the other guy’s intentions were less honorable than his, based on the way he was leering. The guy was definitely headed toward Ariana and her car, when Logan dropped a firm hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so, pal,” he stated in a no-nonsense tone.
“Hey! What the heck?” The man tried to shove Logan’s hand away and took a drunken swing at him.
“I wouldn’t try that again, if I were you.” Logan hung on to him by the back of his shirt and pulled his badge out of his pocket with his other hand. “Go back in the bar and have one of your buddies take you home. You’re in no shape to drive.”
The realization that he was tangling with a cop must have permeated the guy’s alcohol-sodden brain. He mumbled an apology, made two attempts to yank his shirt back into place and, with his head hung and shoulders slumped, hightailed it back into The Runway.
The incident had given Ariana time to get into her car and start backing out, evidently oblivious to the little drama that had unfolded. That annoyed Logan. What kind of a security professional was she, parking in a remote, unlit area of the lot, and so unaware of her surroundings that she didn’t realize that an inebriated jerk had followed her? He didn’t want to think what could’ve happened, if he hadn’t been there to intervene.
Logan’s mood was decidedly sour by the time he stalked up to Ariana’s car and stood in front of it. He could see the surprise register on her face. He stomped over to her window and signaled for her to lower it.
He didn’t let her get a word in before he spoke. “You should know better than to park in the farthest and darkest corner of the lot. What were you thinking?” He hadn’t realized how much it bothered him to contemplate that drunk harassing her.
He couldn’t explain the protectiveness he felt toward her. It wasn’t akin to what he felt for Becca, because there was nothing sister-like about his feelings for Ariana.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Captain,” Ariana said with a forced smile and syrupy-sweet voice. “Are you here to deliver the safety tip of the evening?”
“No.” He’d followed her on impulse and was glad he had. “Did you...” He trailed off, ignoring the curious expression on her face. There was no point enlightening her about what had happened. He was starting to think logically again. Being around Ariana seemed to frazzle his brain. She wasn’t careless. She’d arrived late, after him. The bar and the parking lot were both already full when he got there. She’d probably taken the only spot available.
“Did I what?” she prompted.
“Uh...” He recalled the reason he had followed her out. “Will you have dinner or a drink with me?”
She laughed. Light and airy. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her laugh, but it appealed to him in a way he couldn’t explain.
She gestured toward the building. “I just had a drink, and, Captain...” she put distinct emphasis on his title “...one drink is my limit if I’m driving.”
It was his turn to chuckle. He rested a hand on her window frame. “I didn’t mean right now.”
An odd expression flitted across her face. “Of course not. Is there a new development I should be aware of?”
Logan didn’t know if she was being coy or had forgotten about their discussion. He never had this much trouble asking a woman out on a date. Despite her laugh, she seemed reserved and, well, standoffish. He had no idea what had changed. He’d thought they’d hit it off the night they’d gone to Buster’s. “No. Not for business. Just a chance to spend some time together...get to know each other better,” he clarified.
Her eyes darkened and a vertical line formed between her brows. She swung her gaze toward the entrance to The Runway before meeting his again. “I think you have enough company to keep you entertained, Captain.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but this time her use of his title sounded derogatory.
“C’mon. Have dinner with me.” He offered his best smile. “There’re always the policies to discuss.”
“Thanks, but I’m busy.”
“I haven’t suggested a night yet.”
“Right. Well, that night that you’d be suggesting, I have plans.”
He had to draw his hand away quickly as she raised the window. If he hadn’t taken a step back, she might’ve run over his foot, too, as she pulled away and out of the lot.
Logan heard a hearty laugh and turned toward its source.
Cal stood some twenty feet away, his arm around his wife. Jessica was grinning ear-to-ear.
“Crash and burn! I don’t think I’ve seen you strike out before, Jagger,” Cal remarked.
Logan knew the reputation he had at the division. He didn’t know how he’d earned it. He was no more a player than most single cops. Although he avoided romantic entanglements, he tried to never hurt a woman he was seeing. That was more than could be said for some of the others. Having a witness to his strikeout with Ariana was mildly embarrassing, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “It’s not the first time, nor do I expect it’ll be the last,” he said pleasantly. Waving good-night to Cal and Jess, he headed to his own vehicle.
It irked him more than he cared to admit that the beautiful security executive had brushed him off. There was no denying his attraction to her. When they’d ended their evening at Buster’s, she wouldn’t commit to dinner but he was certain the appeal hadn’t been one-sided.
Logan shrugged. Probably for the best if it didn’t go anywhere. At least until he either finished training Shannon or hired a replacement for Brody.
And of course, there was the whole reason why he avoided getting serious with women and why he’d procrastinated calling Ariana. Despite how happy his close friends were in their relationships, he’d seen up close, with his mother, what being married to a cop could do to a person.
His attraction to Ariana was unlike anything he could remember experiencing before, and he wasn’t prepared to risk thinking long term.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_4f570425-e058-56b9-9ed4-a9f463b6e31e)
MONDAY MORNING IN the terminal building, on her way to her office, Ariana grabbed a coffee—strong with a splash of milk. She placed the cup on her desk, her bag beside it. Sitting down, she turned to slide her laptop into its docking station and stared in surprise at the plain white envelope propped up against her monitor. It hadn’t been there when she’d left Friday night. Few people had access to her office: a cleaner, her duty supervisor, Max, Cyn and herself.
A quick scan of her office revealed nothing else was out of place. She nearly reached in her drawer to pull out a pair of blue latex gloves, to put them on before she handled the envelope.
She chuckled at herself. It was undoubtedly a corporate memo that had been delivered to her door and the cleaning lady had brought it in. Overreacting was an occupational hazard in her field, always expecting the unexpected from simple situations. As the saying went, you planned for the worst and hoped for the best. Ariana slit the envelope open, pulled out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it.
Reading the typed message, she felt a rush of adrenaline.
She snatched up the phone, began dialing, then stopped. It was before seven in the morning, and Cyn wouldn’t be in for an hour. She called her duty supervisor instead. “Get me the video footage for the hall outside my office, would you please, Trevor?”
“Of course. What time frame would you like?”
Ariana gave him the duration between when she’d left the office Friday evening and when she’d arrived just now.
“Anything you want me to check for?”
She considered his offer and decided that, under the circumstances, she wanted to do it herself. “No, thanks. Just get me the file as soon as you can.”
“Right away, boss.”
She quickly composed and sent out an incident notification. The message would reach the appropriate parties at all the devices they had registered in the system. She added Logan to the distribution list, because he wasn’t registered in the system as one of the normal recipients. After hitting Send, she tried FSD Stewart’s cell number. When it went straight to voice mail, she didn’t bother leaving a message. The emergency notification system would already have done that.
Ariana’s next call was to the San Diego Police Department and Logan. Last Friday morning she’d been thinking about him, and contemplating calling him to take him up on his suggestion about dinner. What a difference a couple of days made. More accurately, what a difference it made learning about his reputation and witnessing firsthand how he’d earned it.
She assumed it would be Logan, working in collaboration with the federal authorities, who’d be looking into the letter she was holding. He was the key contact regarding the investigation of the two women on the Barbados-bound flight; it made sense he’d be assigned for this latest development, too. The officers stationed at the airport would be supporting the investigation, but Logan would probably be the lead for the SDPD. Unable to reach him, she left an urgent message for him to get back to her. She called the division’s dispatch and advised them, too. Her final call was to her boss, Calvin Murdoch, the airport’s CEO.
If genuine, this had the potential for being a significant occurrence. In keeping with protocol, he needed to be informed that she was initiating their critical incident response plan. Calvin would have to be available for key decisions on her recommendation, such as a possible ground stop, diversion of aircraft and—if it came down to it—an evacuation of the airport or portions of it. He didn’t answer his cell and wasn’t in his office so she asked his executive assistant, Marlene Harris, to have him call her as soon as possible.
When Cyn poked her head into her office, Ariana was glad that her assistant had arrived early. “We have a situation. I need you to get Molly for me,” she said, referring to the vice president of communications for the airport.
Cyn gave her a questioning look but didn’t say a word. She knew that Ariana would fill her in when she had the time and if appropriate. Ariana said silent thanks, as she had on many occasions over the past year, that she had someone of Cyn’s qualifications and caliber to support her.
When Ariana’s cell phone rang, Cyn left the office and discreetly closed the door behind her. Seeing the blocked number, Ariana assumed it was Logan responding to her messages.
She was correct.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly,” she said.
“I only wish you’d called to tell me you changed your mind about dinner. But I know why you did. I saw the incident notification.”
“Good. That’ll save some time.” She went on to explain the details of the situation.
“I’m on my way,” he said as soon as she finished. “I’ll brief the officers on site and have them meet us at your office. Have you spoken to FSD Stewart yet?”
“Not yet. He’s on the notification list. I tried calling him, too. I’ll mobilize the multiagency security committee in the meantime. I’ll get anyone presently at the airport to meet us. What’s your ETA?”
“I should be there in less than twenty minutes. Once you’ve got everyone together, start without me. We don’t know if the threat is credible, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”
As soon as Ariana hung up, she called Angus again. San Diego was the largest of the airports he was responsible for, but it was still no surprise he wasn’t on site. Contacting Max, she gave him clear instructions. She paused to take a call from Calvin and filled him in on what was happening.
Cyn tapped on her door. “Molly’s not in. I have her on the phone. Can you take her call now?”
Ariana nodded. As she was finishing briefing Molly, Trevor, her supervisor on duty, arrived. Not bothering with the docking station, she inserted the USB drive he handed her into the port on her laptop.
Trevor rested a forearm on the back of her chair and leaned in to watch the screen with her. “What are we looking for?”
“Someone accessing my office over the weekend.” She played the video clip in fast-forward, slowing only when there was movement in the corridor.
“Why? What happened?” Trevor asked.
Ariana pointed to the sheet of paper lying on her desk without taking her eyes off her monitor. “That. Put on a pair of gloves before you touch it. Top right drawer,” she instructed.
She set the video to run at regular speed when the cleaner entered the frame, unlocked her office door and went in and out, to and from her cart, as she performed her duties. She backed out of the office vacuuming the carpet. Pushing her cart, she moved out of the camera’s range.
“Is this for real?” Trevor asked, his voice shrill, as he placed the letter back on her desk.
Ariana shrugged. “We have to assume it is. At least until we prove otherwise.”
“So there’s a—”
“Wait!” Ariana cut him off. “Look at this.”
She rewound and slowed the video clip. A random dot pixel pattern of static, commonly referred to as snow, was all that was visible on the screen.
“Electronic noise. How could that happen?” Trevor asked.
“That’s what we have to find out. The elapsed time was one minute and forty-eight seconds,” she confirmed from the timer on her watch that she’d started when the disturbance had begun. “Long enough for a person to come down the hall, access my office, leave the envelope and disappear.”
“After he’d disabled the camera,” Trevor stated.
“It’s not a far stretch to think someone can hack into our video management system, if he or she wants to. This won’t help us for now. Let’s get going.”
Ariana thought about the new system she had just authorized Max to acquire and the additional security features it had. That system would make hacking more difficult, but even then it wouldn’t be impossible. At the sound of a knock, she swung around. Two of the SDPD officers assigned to the airport stood in the doorway. Carl Rossi she knew but she hadn’t met the other cop. Rossi made the introduction to Officer Haughton. “Captain O’Connor and his explosives detection dog are on the way.”
“Good. Let’s move to the emergency operations center boardroom and meet them there.” Ariana put her laptop in sleep mode. She rose, grabbed it and her jacket, and led Travis and the two cops out of her office at a brisk jog.
“Captain O’Connor filled you in when you spoke to him?” she asked Rossi.
“Yeah. You’ve got the letter with you?”
Ariana nodded as she entered the meeting room. A few of the members of the multiagency security committee were already present. She briefed them as quickly and succinctly as she could.
“I don’t think I need to say this,” she said to everyone in the room. “But you’ve got the full cooperation and assistance of my team. Let me know what you need.”
Even as she said it, she heard footsteps, accompanied by the clicking of canine nails on the hard tile surface of the corridor. A moment later, Logan O’Connor stood in the doorway with Boomer. Ariana had a peculiar sensation seeing Logan, so imposing and virile. She suppressed her reaction. There was no time for it.
Nor could she dwell on the moment of fear at seeing the dog by his side in the doorway. No escape route, flashed through her mind before she quashed that thought, too. She took a determined step forward to extend a hand to Logan.
“Didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” Logan said to Ariana with a ghost of a smile, voicing her thoughts.
Quick introductions were made to those who’d not met before.
“The SWAT team is right behind me, as are two explosive ordnance disposal technicians. The EOD techs should be here any minute.” He gave Ariana a quick appraising glance, the only hint of anything remotely personal between them. Then he was all cop. “Can I see the note?”
Logan pulled on gloves and accepted the sheet of paper from Trevor. Ariana didn’t need to see the letter again to know what it said.
You think you’re smart? So secure? Can you find the bomb before it detonates? Look where you’d least expect it. Will lives be lost because of your failings?
“Is it credible?” Ariana asked, as others filed in.
“Specificity and intimate knowledge are indictors that raise the threshold to a real threat. ‘Where you’d least expect it’ could imply knowledge of the airport’s operations. Impossible to say if it’s credible based on what we have. We can’t ignore it, though.”
Ariana nodded. She felt the same.
Although Homeland Security’s Office of Intelligence and Analysis hadn’t picked up any online chatter or other advance warning, they couldn’t discount the incident being the act of an organized terrorist cell.
“Where’s Stewart?” Logan asked the TSA supervisory special agent present.
“On his way, I’ve been told.”
Logan was well aware of the hierarchy, which gave the FBI overall responsibility, but they had no time to waste for all the key participants to arrive.
“We’ve got to get moving.” Logan said, taking charge until someone else stepped up to do it. “What else do we know about the person or persons responsible and consequently where the bomb might be? The airport has an enormous floorplate for us to cover. If we can prioritize, it would help.”
He turned to Ariana. “How did he get into your office? Did you check for tampering with the lock?”
“Yeah.” Trevor responded, as he’d been the one to do it, while Ariana initiated the critical incident response plan. “There’s no indication of the lock being forced. The guy had a key or knew how to pick a lock.”
“So it’s someone who has access to your corridor, has a key to your office or is skilled at picking locks. He knows where the security cameras are located and has the expertise or access to resources to tamper with them. What do you make of the comment about it being where you’d least expect it?”
Ariana glanced at Trevor and Max, who’d just joined them, to see if either of them had any ideas. When they shook their heads, she offered hers. “I’d interpret it in one of two ways. Either a noncritical area where the bomb wouldn’t do much damage, or a secure area where the person would’ve had to get in through a TSA checkpoint or alternate means of security screening, for example a gate to the airfield. Since the note mentions lives being lost, I favor the latter. A public area with a concentration of passengers—for example when they’re congregated at a gate just after arrival or before departure, or in security screening lines—would be my guess.”
“Makes sense,” Logan said.
“Do we have any reason to suspect it would be a domestic or international area?”
Ariana gave the question some thought. “Not that I can think of.”
“Anyone else?” he asked.
When no one had other thoughts, they quickly reviewed the airport plans to establish a strategy.
“Should we begin to evacuate the airport? Even partially?” Max asked.
“That’s not my call to make,” Logan responded. “If you want my opinion, we don’t have enough to go on at this point. The likelihood of a major event is low but the consequences, if it happens, are significant. We have no corroboration that the threat is credible. We have no location. Without a known or suspected location, with a full-scale evacuation, people might get injured because of the hysteria that could result. Our dogs are trained to search with members of the public present and with distractions. It won’t compromise their effectiveness. We should reassess if we learn more.”
Again, Logan’s comments were in line with Ariana’s own thinking.
“All right, let’s get going. We have no idea how long we have if this isn’t a hoax. We need to work fast, and our best chance is our explosives detection dogs.”
Ariana’s breath hitched at the mention of dogs—plural.
Logan gave her a quizzical look. “I have two more dogs and handlers coming in to cover the areas as quickly as possible. Rick Vazquez and his dog, Nitro, are on their way. You’ll remember meeting Rick,” Logan said with a small smile. “So is Shannon Clemens, and Darwin. She was here the other day. We’ll work with Boomer and Nitro off-leash, for maximum speed. Is that a problem?”
Ariana forced her head to turn side to side.
“Good. The airport is too large to cover in any reasonable time otherwise. To keep passengers calm about a couple of dogs running around, I suggest you make an announcement that we’re conducting a drill. Let people know that they shouldn’t be afraid of or interfere with the dogs.”
“Of course,” Ariana said, her voice tight, trying not to think of two big dogs off leash and a third one, leashed or not, likely in close proximity to her.
At the sound of people and dogs approaching, Logan turned to the doorway. “Great. Thanks for coming in,” he greeted Rick and Shannon. “Sergeant Rick Vasquez works narcotics mainly but his dog, Nitro, was an explosives detection dog before he was retrained for drugs. Nitro’s smart and fast. He’s worked the airport previously. Officer Clemens is new to the K-9 Unit as is her dog, Darwin. They’ll assist us,” he said to everyone in the room.
Both dogs were sitting between Ariana and the door. Including Boomer, Ariana now had three dogs between her and her escape route from the boardroom. She gulped some air. She knew her best defense against panicking was to breathe deeply and distract herself enough to let the fear subside.
She had a bomb threat to deal with, and this one carried more weight than the ones they experienced periodically. She wouldn’t let her phobia get in the way of doing her job.
Although Ariana managed to hold off the anxiety attack, she breathed easier when everyone present, the three dogs included, left the boardroom.
Logan slapped Rick on the back, before they headed in opposite directions at a run. Logan and Boomer took Terminal 1. Rick and Nitro, with Shannon and Darwin assisting, Terminal 2.
FSD Stewart showed up just as they were heading out. He was out of breath and disheveled. He grabbed Ariana’s arm as she was rushing past. “What’s the status?”
“Go with the captain,” Ariana told Trevor. “I’ll follow when I’m done here.” She had no choice than to provide a brief overview to Angus. Ariana excused herself as quickly as possible so she could catch up to Logan, leaving Angus and his subordinate, who’d stayed back after the briefing, to notify other area airports as they deemed appropriate. There was no way of knowing if it was an isolated threat or others might be targeted, too.
Ariana’s priority was her San Diego International.
Before long, the airport was swarming with law enforcement officers. The FBI rapidly assumed leadership of the investigation along with the Department of Homeland Security through FSD Stewart and TSA. Although detection dogs were the best, if not only, line of defense in this type of situation, the TSA didn’t have any to deploy on short notice. As such, Logan and his team retained primary responsibly for sweeping the airport for explosive devices and associated components. They hadn’t wasted any time starting the process.
Ariana found Logan near Gate 8 and fell in step beside him. He glanced at her without slowing. “What are you doing?”
“Sergeant Vasquez has Max to give him access to restricted areas. I’ll do the same for you.”
“Trevor’s with me. We can manage.”
She’d debated leaving Trevor to do it. Then she wouldn’t have to be near the dog, possibly in confined spaces. But this was a serious matter and it was her responsibility. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—delegate it.
They both fell silent as they listened to the announcement over the public address system, advising passengers that a security exercise was under way. With no time to waste, they carried on. Boomer was already hard at work and, with little guidance from Logan, moving at a rapid pace. He was thorough, checking passengers, goods, luggage and storage spaces.
Ariana walked toward a children’s play area and came to an abrupt halt. A young mother was holding her infant on the seat of a small seesaw, while a toddler grasped a monkey bar and bounced up and down with a happy gurgle. It terrified Ariana to think that someone could be so depraved as to set an explosive specifically targeting children. She did a careful visual inspection of all the components, forcing a smile for the young mother. For an instant, she second-guessed herself if she should have ordered an evacuation of the airport, as a precautionary measure.
No. Based on the intelligence they had, it wasn’t warranted. Everyone present had agreed.
All seemed to be in order, but Ariana was still relieved when she saw Boomer approaching. She stepped back so the dog could clear the area. Boomer was oblivious to the children, who squealed excitedly at seeing the animal.
“He’s a police dog,” Ariana told the anxious mother. “He won’t hurt your kids. We’re running a drill.” She repeated what had already been communicated. Even with the added assurance, the mother lifted the infant and, taking the other child by his hand, led them to a seating area.
Ariana rejoined Logan and Boomer. They were inside a retail shop when there was a loud rumble and an unmistakable vibration, strong enough to cause the glassware on the shelves to rattle.
Logan’s arm shot out in front of Ariana to bring her to a stop.
It was eerily silent for a few heartbeats, before panic ensued.
People were yelling and running. There was general chaos.
In near unison, they yanked out their phones. Ariana called Trevor. “Do you know what just happened?”

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