When I Found You. Kate James

“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

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