An Aria for Nick (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Song of Suspense)

by Bridgeman, Hallee

  Because she often came in so much later in the morning than a lot of the employees there, she rarely had to wait in line at the security station. It was usually very quick, with an x-ray to scan any purses or lunch bags that came into the facility, and a metal detector body scan. This morning, Aria only had to wait in line behind three people, and while there, she chatted with Dave, the head of security.

  "Morning, Dave. Did I see your boat out on the Willamette last night?"

  "You sure did, Doc. It was a beautiful night."

  Aria set her purse on the conveyor belt for the x-ray machine. "I know. I ate dinner at the Fresh Catch Restaurant next to the dock. I love spring. I'm looking forward to the dry summer months."

  "That eastern blood of yours isn't used to all this wet now, is it?"

  "It rained a few times in New York," she said with a smile as she walked through the metal detector. With the all clear, she picked her purse up on the other side of the x-ray machine.

  She left the security center and headed straight for the main administration building. In the main lobby, an armed guard checked ID cards and gave clearance to those allowed passage. He knew her and chatted with her while he checked the list for the morning's meeting, then handed her a security badge that would allow her access to the floor where the meeting would be held. To save time, she used the elevator instead of her standard run up the staircase, and when she arrived on the third floor, she showed the temporary badge to another security guard and informed him her secretary would be arriving with her laptop.

  She entered the conference room, and stopped short when she saw Peter Harrington already seated at the table. He wasn't on the list of attendees she'd seen yesterday and she hadn't been prepared to see him. She'd managed to maintain a façade of calm for two months now. She didn't understand why, in the final decision last week to report what she knew, she suddenly felt nervous. Nothing had changed.

  Except everything.

  Just as she was about to go greet him, Julie rushed in carrying her laptop. Aria intercepted her, whispering a desperate, "Thank you," when she took it from her. The pale, brown haired, very pregnant woman smiled back with a wink, then left the room.

  Aria's hands trembled slightly when she set her computer down, but she kept her face composed. Peter would expect her to go straight to him, so she dredged up a warm smile and sat next to him.

  He had a lean face with thin, dark hair that he wore rather short. His dark rimmed glasses made his brown eyes look intense. He wasn't very tall, maybe five-six, and had a lean, runner's body that saw regular workouts.

  She had started dating him about nine months ago. While she was the project manager, Peter was in charge of the administrative and security portion of her project along with three other projects at the facility.

  Despite being fifteen years her senior, he had thoroughly charmed her and spent a year asking her out. She started off just sharing a lunch break with him, but the more time they spent together, the more comfortable she felt until she was a regular part of his weekends with his daughter and an occasional date with just the two of them. Peter never pressured her for any kind of intimate relationship, and that relieved her because she truly wasn't interested in one.

  Until recently, the biggest problem she had with him was that despite his profession of faith, he didn't seem to live as a man of faith. She never saw him pray, he never engaged her about discussions of the Bible, and he did not attend his own church. It made her hesitant to pursue any furthering of their relationship beyond just an intimate friendship. Additionally, for whatever reason, he didn't act like that bothered him.

  "Hi Peter. How was the visit with your daughter?" she asked.

  "She wants to get her belly button pierced," Peter said with a dry humor that had helped spur Aria's initial attraction to him. "Unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot I can say about it, because her mother got hers done last year." He pulled the carafe of coffee towards him and poured each of them a cup. "What can you do with a fifteen year old?"

  Aria didn't pick up the cup. Her hands weren't quite steady enough yet. "I imagine that it's hardest when both parents aren't on the same page."

  He took a sip of his coffee and looked at her over the rim. "I wouldn't know any other way, sadly."

  "I know. I have no experience with broken families, but looking at it from the outside, I imagine it must be so hard."

  One of the project leads interrupted her to tell her good morning and ask about an e-mail that had gone out the day before. As they finished speaking, she realized that the room had filled with men until every chair at the table and most seats against the wall were taken.

  She looked at her watch, then moved to the head of the table. As she connected the projector cable to her laptop, she smiled at the room full of rocket scientists. "Gentlemen, shall we begin?" She nodded to an associate near the door, who dimmed the lights for her. "I just want to begin by saying that our testing last week was amazing. I think we all deserve a round of applause."

  While the team gave each other an ovation, Aria clicked a few keys on her laptop and pulled up a report that projected onto the screen. "One of the chief complaints during proving trials was the weight of the pack. As sympathetic as I am to those who would have to handle it for transport, the user will be in zero gravity, so I don't think the issue is going to require changing anything in the design."

  A question came from someone at the table. "Isn't weight an issue during launch?"

  Aria shrugged. "I imagine it is. But our specs don't ask for a pack that weighs a specific amount. At this point, I'm sure they're thinking it was an oversight in the specs. I bet Peter can speak to that," she said, gesturing in his direction, "and they may eventually issue a change order. But for now our mission is simply to design a working pack and as far as the results look on my end, we are so very nearly there that the tweaking will be minimal."

  Peter sat forward. "It's too late in the project to make any major changes but the issue NASA has is that it costs about $10,000.00 per pound of payload to get anything into space. You guys are better at math than me so you can see how quickly that will add up in terms of tax dollars, so you can expect a change order. A change order will ultimately cost less than delivering the system as is. Bottom line, if there's any way to cut weight now, without cutting corners, and it fits into your hours and project plans, you may want to get ahead of the inevitable change order."

  Aria said, "The nuclear material is going to weigh what it weighs and additional shielding is going to add weight, not subtract."

  Peter nodded. "I'm not disagreeing with you. The priority is the shielding. We have to keep the astronaut safe and if that means we add weight then so be it. All I'm saying is that we should all remain cognizant of the weight issue moving forward. Lighter is going to be better. So, what is the progress of the shielding? Any good news to report to the government?"

  Aria clicked a button and pulled up another chart showing radiation leakage. "This is over a six-hour period. As you know, these numbers in a single exposure aren't dangerous, but with long term exposure, we could be looking at some issues. We need to figure out how to tweak it to get these numbers down further. We have RFIs out to JPL and DOE that haven't been answered so we'll follow up on that this week."

  With a gesture toward the associate by the lights, she shut her laptop lid and spoke as the lights came up. "This is intended to be a brainstorming session since we know the design best. Keeping weight considerations in mind, if you have any ideas at this point, I'm opening the floor to suggestions."

  ¯¯¯¯

  AFTER Raymond Williams broke her wrist at his son's funeral, any future Aria could have looked forward to as a musician vanished; permanently destroyed. While only a highly trained ear could distinguish the difference in the quality of her present skill from her ability before the assault, her dominant hand simply no longer had the stamina needed to perform professionally.

  It had taken Aria an entire semest
er to face that fact, and the two additional surgeries on her wrist only fully confirmed it. She had some hard decisions to face on her twenty-first birthday, the first being, "what now?"

  Now no future with Nick. Now no future in music. In a short six-month span, her entire life plans and expectations disappeared.

  She spent hours praying about it, trying to battle resentment, trying not to feel angry. Good things had come out of it, and she clung to that. During his time in jail for the assault, Raymond Williams sobered up for the first time in his adult life.

  He experienced such remorse for hurting Aria, and for the years of abuse his own son had suffered at his hands, that he willingly sought God. With Aria's father and oldest brother John present, he gave his life to Christ. He left the jail then went straight into a rehab and never drank again. Now he volunteered at a children's home, teaching teenaged boys how to work on car engines, trying to make up for abusing Nick by helping as many boys as he could.

  Aria clung to that. Every boy he mentored and helped was one more reason she accepted her new future. Seeing the difference Raymond Williams was able to make reminded her that even if she couldn't play professionally, she could still play in ministry and for personal enjoyment and relaxation.

  In the meantime, Aria reluctantly left the School of Music and was accepted into the School of Science and Engineering where she bounced between a computer major and a math major, and finally decided to study engineering. She'd changed her major so many times that it should have taken her five years to earn her degree. Instead, she sweated and studied and cried and prayed, and didn't take a summer off ever again, then ended up graduating not only with her class, but near the top of her class.

  Four years later, in pursuit of her Ph.D., Aria had published several times. In one article, she had taken on jet propulsion principles in a vacuum. Part of her thesis dismantled and corrected an opposing hypothesis published in a widely distributed scientific trade and academic magazine by a well-respected name in the field. During the last few weeks of finishing up the requirements for her doctorate, a Washington D. C. based hiring manager with Northwestern Technologies Incorporated read her article, realized it was spot on, and promptly offered A.C. Suarez an interview.

  Three days after receiving her doctorate in nuclear engineering, Aria packed her bags and left Rochester, New York behind for Portland, Oregon. The people in Portland had been a bit surprised to learn that A.C. Suarez wasn't a man, but was actually a petite blonde who looked a lot closer to 18-years-old than her true 26-years-old, but after a weekend of intense interviews and pretty hard-hitting questions, and with the contract with NASA needing an out-of-the-box thinker, they shook her hand, offered her an impressive benefits package, and hired her.

  NWT Incorporated designed and manufactured nuclear technology, primarily weapons technology, for the United States Government. After the end of the Cold War, most of their focus centered around improving the current technology they had already developed in order to maintain or renew their patents. In the wake of nonproliferation, the time for the mass production of nuclear weapons had passed. Now, the nuclear powers of the world wanted the most advanced weapons, rather than the highest number of weapons.

  Aria's department had nothing to do with weapons technology. Instead, she worked on a contract for NASA, working to develop technology that would help astronauts working outside of a spacecraft or space station — called extra vehicular activities or EVA — work longer, more productive hours in greater comfort and safety. She worked with nuclear technology to create a nuclear power source that could be worn by any person who could then power and operate the suit safely and for a much greater period of time than the current technology allowed. With a small nuclear powered pack, and with less need for fossil fueled power, more room could be dedicated to oxygen in the suit, and give the astronaut much more productive time in the suit.

  The technology they worked on was classified higher than Top Secret in an already secure facility. The people who worked there were an extremely closely-knit group of exceptionally trained specialists, and Aria currently headed a small team that specifically concentrated on the shielding of the device to protect the person wearing it from any kind of possible radiation dangers.

  It had taken weeks to break into the good-old-boy network at NWT. It actually ended up being a lot easier than she originally anticipated. Once people started reconciling the A.C. Suarez who had burned up the industry with her many articles with the woman who worked tirelessly alongside them, they started trusting her.

  In a year they made more progress than they had in the previous three years. Within two years, testing on both the power pack and the shielding showed true promise.

  "Aria, Peter Harrington is on line three," her secretary, Julie said from her office. Aria took off her reading glasses, gritted her teeth, and put a smile in her voice.

  "Hello, Peter," she said.

  "Aria, I tried to catch you after the meeting this morning, but you disappeared before I could. I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight?"

  Aria held the phone in place with her shoulder, and rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to ward off the chill she felt. "Sure, as long as we make it an early night. I have a deadline on an article for Popular Science."

  "Still writing for that science fiction magazine, are you?"

  She forced herself to chuckle. "As long as they pay me for my unclassified opinion, I'm game."

  Peter cleared this throat before suggesting, "Why don't we meet at the deli on the corner of your street, then?"

  "Sounds good. I'll see you there around seven." She hung up the phone feeling grateful that he wanted to meet her there instead of picking her up. That meant he wouldn't have to drive her home, and she could easily beg off and make it an early night.

  ¯¯¯¯

  Chapter 7

  ARIA let herself into her house, rubbing her temples to ward off the headache that had started the moment she walked into the deli. She had never been very good at lying, and the stress of keeping her smile and laughing at jokes had worn on her over the last hour.

  She found her phone where she had accidentally left it sitting on the kitchen counter. She checked it and saw some missed calls. While she put on the kettle for tea, she accessed her messages, annoyed with herself for forgetting it in the first place.

  "Aria, this is Henry. You haven't called in two weeks. Call me back tonight, or I'll call you at five tomorrow morning." Aria grinned, knowing he probably would call her that early. She deleted the message as she moved into the bedroom and started unbuttoning her blouse.

  "Aria, this is Adam. They loved the soundtrack you wrote. Check your calendar and shoot me a text to let me know when you're free to come down here and sign contracts."

  She paused at her bed with a huge smile on her face, her blouse half unbuttoned. One blockbuster movie at a time, her brother Adam was taking Hollywood by storm. She was so proud of him. He always offered her the opportunity and right of first refusal to compose the soundtracks for his films. She'd done it twice now and couldn't believe how much she loved it.

  Conducting the orchestra for the recording was an experience she never imagined she'd have. Writing and conducting were not her focus in school. She'd taken classes, of course, but she'd thought she just wanted to play piano. She never considered the thrill of direction.

  She put her hands to her cheeks and grinned then spun in a little circle. They loved her soundtrack!

  The whistling of the tea kettle interrupted her spontaneous celebration, so she rushed to the kitchen and turned the stove off. She dug through her basket of tea and settled on a spearmint tea. She grabbed a cup and opened the bag, then splashed the boiling water over the bag.

  Carrying the cup, she turned off lights and locked doors and windows on her way to her room. Once there, she set her cup on her night stand next to the alarm clock. She finished unbuttoning her blouse and slipped on a pair of comfortable pajamas. As she took
a sip of hot tea, she played her last voice mail message.

  The voice caused her to flash back ten years. "Aria, um, hey, this is Carol Mabry. Henry gave me your number. I hope you don't mind. Anyway, I'd really love to talk to you and catch up. Please call me, whatever time you get in. I don't mind the time difference. I'm usually up working late anyway. Okay. Well, bye for now."

  Aria sat on the edge of the bed, rested her elbows on her knees, and put her head in her hands. Carol Mabry. They hadn't seen each other or spoken to each other since right after Nick's funeral. Aria never could fully explain the feelings she had for a man who had never, in his lifetime, reciprocated her feelings in the first place, and she didn't know how to defend them. Carol had never understood the depths of Aria's mourning for Nick. She even accused her of using her grief to get attention.

  Aria felt betrayed by her friend's lack of understanding and her criticism. They'd had a big argument, and the two drifted apart. Aria hadn't thought of Carol in years.

  What could she be calling about now? Aria replayed the message. She scrolled through her missed calls and found Carol's number. Carol had the same area code as her brother Henry.

  Had Carol become an attorney as she'd always wanted? Had she married the boy from college she'd dated a few times? Did she still play the violin?

  Suddenly, Aria couldn't wait to call her. The years seemed to melt away as she thought back to three years of high school and two years of college with Carol Mabry as her best friend. She had so much to talk about and tell her about. The job at NWT, remodeling her cottage, playing in the church orchestra, and even her broken engagement with Brandon Laramore.

  She scrolled through the call log again, but as she found Carol's number and started to hit send, the phone in her hand rang, startling her. She answered it on the second ring.