At thirty-nine, she possessed the energy of a high school cheerleader and the looks to match. After her divorce, she never had a lack of offers, but often declined when asked out. Marriage remained out of the question, at least for the time being. Before walking down the aisle again, she needed to know her man was firmly committed to her and her daughters first, his job second. Her first husband, a former Air Force officer, had been a walking job. Been there. Done that. No thanks.

The man she’d been dating lately worked as an industrial refrigeration contractor and spent the majority of his time in Eastern Europe. At first, she didn’t mind so much. Their reunions often spawned some of the most intense sexual encounters she’d ever experienced. Five years younger, the man was an animal. Voracious. But within the bigger picture, sex played a minor role in their relationship. A union based on sex alone felt empty, like a vacant house. Sex was a fleeting commodity. Here today. Gone tomorrow. Love remained eternal, like a diamond buried in the sand, or more appropriately, adorning her finger. But diamond or not, when her man returned this evening, she intended to greet him in a new pair of Manolo Blahniks. Only the shoes. Not by coincidence, both her daughters were headed for sleepovers after school.

She pulled into the Fashion Valley Mall’s parking garage on Friars Road and realized she couldn’t remember her drive down here. Weird. She had tons on her mind, but having no memory of the thirty minute trip frightened her a little. Had she run any red lights? She hoped not. At least no one had honked at her, she would’ve remembered that. This wasn’t New York. Honking your horn around here was practically an act of war.

Nicole looked at the dashboard clock: 7:47 am. Perfect. She’d have time for Starbucks before Nordstrom opened. Got to have it.

***

USMC Gunnery Sergeant Christopher “Big Kid” Kiddrich slid out of his Jeep Cherokee and stretched. Just under six feet tall, he looked like an aging surfer because he was an aging surfer. Cropped blond hair. Blue eyes. Broad shoulders. Not quite buff, but definitely not flabby. He worked at Miramar as an MP. He liked his job and had his sights on the San Diego PD after retiring. Who said forty was too old to become a street cop?