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.
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