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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.
