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Sawyer
I stepped out of the jetway, straightening the bottom of my suit jacket, and moved into the bustling terminal. Shouldering my backpack, I had the quick wish that I had my piece on me in this crowd. Traveling at any point near the holidays was a shit show; the amount of people in this terminal alone had my guard up.
Shoot, with the way people were with cops these days, I should probably just start driving to San Diego for these weekend trips. It was only an eleven hour drive. At least then I’d know I had my gun on me and it wouldn’t get lost in some bag mishap that checked bags always ended up in.
When I first swore in as a cop, there were days I almost forgot to strap on my Glock 27. Now I felt naked without the subcompact in my holster. But TSA had a problem with firearms on a person, so I had to follow the rules.
I freaking hated crowds though, especially when I was ‘naked’ of my gun. I took a deep breath and started toward the baggage claim, weaving through the many travelers. It wasn’t like this was the first time I flew; it wasn’t the first time I didn’t have my gun physically on me. It just never got easier.
The crowds thinned out as I moved away from the terminals and soon breathing became easier. Having been in this airport a number of times over the last five years, I quickly navigated the halls until I found the baggage claim.
Thankfully, whoever was working the belly of the plane was quick today, and the turn style already had suitcases on it. I pulled out my phone to let Syd know I made it and was just waiting on my bag. She had texted me while I was in the air, stating she was tracking my flight and would meet me when I landed.
It’s what we did.
I knew she’d pick me up, just as she knew if she were staying in Salt Lake City, I would be at the airport waiting for her, bells and whistles and all that jazz.
No sooner than I sent the text off, my phone signaled an incoming call from Jake.
Not only was the man my partner, we were good friends. I slid the bar over on my screen, accepting the call and putting the cell to my ear.
“What’s up, Bryant?”
I stood in front of the moving baggage claim, my free hand in my jeans pocket as I waited.
“Not much. You make it to sunny San Diego yet?” Like myself, Jake Bryant was a born and bred Utah man. Unlike me though, Jake came from a huge Mormon family. He had three brothers and four sisters, and every single one of them was a blue-eyed blonde. I went to a number of Bryant family functions; they were a fun family. Not strict Mormons, but when you looked at their family pictures, posed in front of red rock mountains, they were the definition of the type.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Jake ended up marrying his current girlfriend. She fit the mold.
“I did,” I answered, rocking back on my heels and watching for my bag. “Uneventful flight. Slight turbulence. The usual.”
“You talk to your sister yet?”
“Just text her.”
“You seeing that pretty Grace while you’re out there?”
That was the problem with close partners slash good friends. They found shit out and held it over your head. He and I shared a number of beers through the years, and he heard a number of stories.
“Don’t know,” I answered, trying to go with careless but I wasn’t incredibly positive that it hit the mark.
Jake chuckled. “Mmhmm. Sure.”
I shook my head but grinned nonetheless. “Shove it, Bryant. What’s with the call? You need something or just checking in?” I joked. He and I had an ongoing battle as to who was the dominant one in our partnership; who went high and who went low. He was only a year older than me, making the two of us the youngest on our task force, but we worked well together.
“You know I wear the pants in our relationship, Meadows. Gotta make sure my boy is where he said he was going.”
“What the fuck ever,” I said around a chuckle. “Your girl leave you already today? Is that why you called? You bored?”
I could hear him click his tongue and could picture him shaking his head in a gesture he typically did. “Yeah, well.” He paused long enough for me to check to see if the call was still ticking. “Stace left last night.”
The way he said it…
“As in…left left, or she went to a friend’s house last night?”
“No, she packed her shit and left.” Jake said it nonchalantly but I knew how much he cared for the girl. Just the other day, I caught him pulling up ring stores on his computer during a rare down moment.
Frowning, I kept my eyes on the turn style but asked, “Why?”
