A Kiss in the Dark

by Karen Foley

  “God,” he said, and sighed, his breath tickling her soft flesh, “I want you again. Unbelievable.”

  Her tummy contracted as she chuckled. “And here I thought you weren’t letting me touch you because you didn’t like me.”

  Angel raised his head and looked at her over the enticing mounds of her breasts. “I think we both know that’s not the problem,” he said hoarsely, and slowly worked his way upward to her mouth.

  Man, oh, man, the woman could kiss. The problem had nothing to do with not liking her, he thought as he pulled her closer, and everything to do with liking her way too much.

  11

  “I CAN’T FIND anything wrong with any of them. They all seem pretty perfect to me.” Sedona stood at the edge of the sun-baked flight line and watched as a dozen or more maintenance officers, each clad in a bright-red T-shirt and camouflage pants, prepared to roll two more Coyote jets into the hangar for inspection.

  “Oh, yeah,” purred Petty Officer Heilmuller beside her. “No argument there, ma’am. They’re all prime cuts.”

  Turning to the other woman, Sedona made a sound of exasperation. “I was talking about the jet engines.”

  To her amazement, Petty Officer Heilmuller gave her a broad wink. “Sure you were. Ma’am.”

  Sedona watched the other woman saunter back toward the hangar, idly swinging a long wrench from one hand. It was just her luck the attractive petty officer had been assigned to her inspection team. Although, to her credit, she was an accomplished mechanic, despite her sometimes ribald sense of humor. On top of that, the other woman was right; Sedona couldn’t remember the last time she’d been surrounded by so many young, virile, good-looking guys. Not that it mattered to her, of course. Next to Angel Torres, they were merely boys.

  Shading her eyes, she peered farther down the flight line to where two pilots were conducting a visual inspection of a pair of Coyotes in preparation for a test flight. She didn’t have to see his face to know one of the pilots was Angel. His tall, broad-shouldered physique was difficult to mistake.

  She thought again of the previous night, and couldn’t stop smiling at the memories of what they’d done together. The guy was beyond amazing. He hadn’t walked her back to her own room in the wee hours of the morning as he’d done their first night together. Instead, she’d stayed wrapped around him until the alarm clock on his wristwatch went off at 4:30 a.m. He’d kissed her and left her in his bed while he took a shower. She’d curled up on the edge of the mattress and watched him as he dressed.

  “Sleep in this morning,” he’d said as he knelt next to the bed and smoothed her hair back from her face. “I’ll send a message over to the inspection team that you had a conference call with Joe or something.”

  “That’s okay,” she murmured, smiling up at him. His hair gleamed, sleek as a seal’s, from his shower and he smelled delicious. His flight suit was open at the throat, revealing the drab olive-colored T-shirt beneath. “If you can get up this early, so can I.”

  “Okay.” He leaned forward and kissed her so sweetly she’d been tempted to pull him back into bed. “I’ll try and get back early tonight, okay? Wait for me?”

  Wait for him? Was he kidding? She’d been waiting for him her whole life.

  “I’ll be right here,” she’d responded with a smile. “Well, maybe not right here, exactly. But next door.”

  She longed for the day to be over. She still had the sense that she was part of a surreal dream, and any moment she’d wake up to find herself back in the unexciting, predictable reality of her plain-Jane life. She didn’t want to think too much about what it was that Angel saw in her. She wasn’t superstitious, but there was a small part of her that prescribed to the theory of self-fulfilling prophecy. If she couldn’t understand why Angel was with her, eventually he’d begin to wonder why, as well. She wasn’t naive enough to believe their relationship could possibly last, but she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it, either.

  “Hey, Stewart, want to take a walk with me?”

  Sedona turned away from watching Angel, to see Ken Larson striding across the tarmac toward her. She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Not particularly.”

  “I think you might want to reconsider.” He was wearing aviator sunglasses with mirrored lenses, and Sedona couldn’t read the expression in his blue eyes.

  “Why?”

  He jerked his head in the direction of the hangar. “They just brought in the two Coyotes that experienced in-flight engine failures. They’re over in Hangar 74. The navy investigation team responsible for inspecting the damaged aircraft is going over them with a fine-tooth comb, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to see what kind of damage the engines sustained. Maybe it’ll provide clues as to what we should be looking for.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sedona’s excitement level kicked into high gear. “What are we doing standing here? Let’s go.”

  Finally, something that might provide a hint as to why the Coyotes had crashed. Nearly a week of inspections had turned up nothing. All systems were fully operational and showed no signs of damage or malfunction. She had wondered about the jets that had suffered mishaps, but she hadn’t hoped to actually see any of them.

  “So,” Ken said as they followed the road that led along the flight line to Hangar 74, “what’d you do last night? I sort of hoped to see you downstairs in the lounge, but you never showed.”

  Sedona gave a sidelong look. “Why would I?”

  He spread his hands. “Hey, my offer still stands. I mean, think about it. We’re friends, right?”

  “I guess,” Sedona said warily.

  “Well, we could be friends with benefits.” He swept her body with an appreciative glance. “We could get wild together, take a couple of photos, then give the evidence to the Membership and get promoted, right?”

  Sedona stopped walking and stared at him, mortified. “Ken,” she began, “I’m flattered by your interest, but I already told you—” She broke off with a laugh. “I’m no longer interested in being part of the Membership. In truth, there’s no way I’d ever sleep with somebody just to get ahead in my job. So the answer isn’t just no, it’s hell no.”

  “You know what your problem is, Stewart?” Ken’s voice had turned hard and cold. “You think you’re better than everyone else. I know your kind. I’ve had to deal with bitches like you my entire life. If a guy doesn’t meet your exacting standards, he’s beneath your notice.”

  What the…? Sedona couldn’t keep the astonishment out of her voice. “What is your problem, Larson? That I won’t sleep with you?” She stared at him incredulously. “Get over it. I don’t sleep with coworkers.”

  Ken jerked his sunglasses off. His face was flushed and his eyes simmered with anger at whatever old memories still haunted him. Sedona watched as he visibly struggled with his emotions. Finally, he gave a grim parody of a smile.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, here’s a news flash for you, Stewart.” He leaned slightly forward, until his face was so close, Sedona could see the individual pores of his skin. “There’s only one way to get a promotion in this place and you’ll never see one.”

  Sedona watched through narrowed eyes as he strode away, telling herself it didn’t matter what he thought.

  “Because you don’t have what it takes, Stewart,” he called back over his shoulder, “in business or in bed.”

  She shook her head in bemusement as she watched him go. Why had she never realized what a jerk Ken was? She’d been so duped by his easygoing, friendly manner that she hadn’t seen he was really no better than Mike “Hound Dog” Sullivan. She told herself his insults couldn’t truly hurt her. After all, she was heading up the engine inspection team and sharing bed space with the most perfect guy she’d ever known. All things considered, she’d say she definitely had what it took, both in business and in bed.

  * * *

  SEDONA LEANED OVER Senior Chief Hamlin’s shoulder for a closer look at the damaged engine. She and Ken had been permitted to
come into the hangar to view the jets, but only after they’d promised not to touch anything. While Sedona looked at the first engine, Ken had deliberately moved away from her to look at the second of the two engines. Fine. She didn’t want him hanging over her shoulder.

  The engines had been removed from the aircraft and hung suspended from two enormous rolling hoists. Portable workbenches positioned around the first of the crippled Coyotes were littered with boxes of parts that had been tagged and labeled. The smell of oil and grease hung heavy on the air, and the metallic clang of tools contrasted with the high-pitched whine of electric drills and pneumatic wrenches.

  “Check out the blades on this blisk,” Sedona observed, circling the engine to get a better view of the fan blades. The ends were bent and mangled, as if something small and hard had been sucked through at high speed.

  “Yes, ma’am,” answered the maintenance officer. “We found a loose ball bearing in the HPC module. If the pilot hadn’t shut down the engine when he did, it would have blown out the back and we’d probably never know what caused the damage.”

  “But how—”

  The senior chief shrugged. “Ball bearings are an integral part of the engine components, ma’am. There are several dozen of them throughout. Could’ve been any one of them that came loose.”

  “Hmm. I suppose it’s possible,” Sedona conceded, but inwardly she had her doubts. Without exception, the ball bearings were encased within a titanium or Kevlar housing to prevent them from coming loose. Foreign-object damage was a prime cause of engine failure. To have a ball bearing come loose during engine operation could have catastrophic consequences.

  “What about the other Coyote? Have her engines been removed yet? Have you determined if the damage is similar?”

  The senior chief glanced up at her with an amused smile. “We’re working on it, ma’am. At this point, nothing has been determined. After all, the Coyotes only arrived this morning.”

  Sedona nodded, embarrassed. “Right. Well, I’d be very interested in your findings.” She tilted her head, surveying the bent and twisted fan blades with pursed lips. “These Coyotes are originally from Lemoore, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “They all launched from that flight line, right out there.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the hangar doors. “All within twenty-four hours of each other. Coincidence?”

  Sedona arched a brow at him. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’d better check the remaining birds very carefully, that’s what I think.”

  Sedona turned to look at the flight line. Angel was flying one of those jets right now. The thought of him encountering a problem with the engines midair caused her stomach to clench.

  “Who oversees the flight tests?” she asked.

  “That’d be Captain Dawson, ma’am,” the senior chief replied. “He’s got an office over at command headquarters, but I think he’s been working out of Building 281 while the investigation is going on.”

  Sedona sighed inwardly. The thought of having to deal with Captain Dawson made her temples throb. He reminded her too much of her father.

  “Is there somebody else—a lieutenant or somebody—who coordinates the flight tests? I mean, Captain Dawson has to have someone else doing the bulk of the work for him, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Lieutenant Palmer oversees the plane captains. There’re a dozen or more of them on the flight line. They control the flight plans and perform the final inspections before the jets actually leave the ground.”

  His words reminded Sedona of the previous night when she had seen Lieutenant Palmer on the flight line. She’d completely forgotten to mention it to Angel.

  “Does Lieutenant Palmer also perform inspections?” she asked.

  “Sure. He knows more about those jets than most of the plane captains. Hell,” the chief continued, “he’s spent more time learning how to fly them than anyone I know.”

  “Lieutenant Palmer is a Coyote pilot?”

  “Nah. He went through the training a couple of times, but couldn’t get through the final stage of the flight program. Some kind of medical problem is what I heard.” The senior chief shrugged. “But man, it takes balls to go through that program once, never mind three times, and still not make the cut.”

  “Wow, what a shame.”

  “You bet. I heard he was pretty torn up about it.”

  “So where would I find one of these plane captains?”

  The senior chief nodded toward the flight line. “That might be a couple of them over there. Too far to tell for sure, but one of them looks like Wheeler, and I think the one on the left is Airman Laudano. He’s an aviation machinist’s mate.”

  Sedona flashed him a quick smile. “Thanks very much. And you’ll let me know what you find on the other engines, right?”

  The senior chief saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Leaving the hangar, she made her way across the tarmac to where the fleet of Coyotes were lined up, dull pewter beneath the blue sky. She noted with approval that the jets had been separated into two groups—those that had been inspected and those that had not.

  As she drew closer, she saw three men standing close together, reviewing some kind of paperwork. They each wore a helmet equipped with ear protectors and a microphone. Dark goggles were pushed up onto the top of the helmets, and one man had two bright-orange flight sticks shoved in his back pocket.

  “Excuse me,” she called. “Airman Laudano?”

  The three men lifted their heads. The one nearest her looked like an advertisement for the all-American boy next door. Sedona glanced at his name patch. Ryan Wheeler, aviation machinist’s mate. He gave her a shy smile and nodded toward the man next to him, who stepped away from the others, toward her.

  God, when did they start enlisting babies? The boy couldn’t be more than fourteen. Okay, maybe sixteen.

  “I’m Laudano,” he said warily, peering at the badge she wore around her neck. “Can I help you?”

  He was a handsome kid with dark eyes, but his good looks were marred by a sullen expression. He wore camouflage combat pants, boots, a brown shirt and a camouflage vest. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “I hope so,” Sedona answered. “I’m Sedona Stewart. I’m part of the Coyote inspection team working over in Hangar 29. I oversee the engine inspections.”

  He shrugged. “So?”

  Sedona raised her eyebrows. “So, I want to ask you a few questions.”

  He started to turn away. “I already filed a report with the Aircraft Mishap Board. I told them everything I know. I got nothing else to say.”

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Sedona fell into step beside him. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you.”

  Resentment sparked in his eyes. “I got a good idea. I’m a plane captain. You think because we’re the last ones to inspect the jets before they launch, we must somehow be responsible, right?”

  Sedona frowned. “No. Of course not. Why would I think that?”

  “Because that’s what they all think.”

  Sedona spread her hands. “Well, not me. Look, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m just trying to get an understanding of the whole process, and wanted to ask what it is plane captains do before a jet launches. You know, what kinds of safety checks you perform.”

  He stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”

  Okay, the kid was beginning to irritate her. “Because I happen to have a…good friend test-flying these jets, and it sure as hell would make me feel better to know you and the other guys are doing everything you can to keep him safe.”

  He stopped, hands braced on his hips, and stared at her, and suddenly he looked weary and resigned, and much older than she’d originally thought.

  “Look, it’s a tough job. We work long days, sometimes sixteen-hour shifts. We’re each assigned our own aircraft, and it’s our job to make sure they’re safe to fly.”

  “So you perform inspections?” Sedona prompted.


  He squinted up at the sky and then back at her face. “Yeah. We do constant inspections. We check fluid levels, prepare the cockpit for flight and make sure there’s no FOD, stuff like that.”

  “FOD? As in foreign object damage?”

  He gave her a look that said he knew she was fishing. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  Sedona refused to be intimidated. “So you would notice if a ball bearing, for example, was rolling around inside the engine compartment?”

  Airman Laudano compressed his lips. “Yes, ma’am. I would. I’m the final set of eyes for the aircraft. The safety net, so to speak. The plane, the pilot and the mission rest solely on how well I do my job.” He practically bit each word out.

  “And do you do your job well, Airman?”

  He gave her one long, contemptuous look and then turned on his heel and began walking away. “Speak to my XO. Ma’am.”

  XO? Ah, military-speak for commanding officer.

  “I may just do that,” she murmured.

  As she turned thoughtfully away, she saw two men standing outside the Coyote hangar. Even from a distance, she recognized one of them as Captain Dawson. She squared her shoulders. He might intimidate her, but it wouldn’t prevent her from asking about Airman Laudano’s competency as a plane captain. Even as she made up her mind to do so, Captain Dawson turned away and entered the hangar. As she walked across the tarmac, Sedona recognized the second man.

  “Excuse me, Lieutenant Palmer?”

  He turned toward her with a smile. “Miss Stewart. We meet again.” The surprise in his voice was unmistakable. “What brings you over to this part of the base? I’d think the engine inspections would keep you busy enough.”

  Sedona laughed. “Oh, they do. I was actually taking a look at the two compromised Coyotes that just came in.”

  His smile grew quizzical. “Were they helpful to you?”

  “Yes, actually, they were.” She hesitated. “I was just curious as to which of your plane captains were responsible for overseeing the jets that crashed or had in-flight problems.”