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been, how very close indeed...
    But then, if he had been doing his job properly, she wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. 
    His poor judgment had very nearly gotten this young woman killed. 
    He should have been closer, quicker, wiser!
    Should have recognized the danger, seen Barry coming.
    There were a hundred and one things he should have done differently... 
    In truth, none of them mattered now.
    Hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all.
    As he looked again at her restful face, he was surprised to see her stir in her sleep...
                                           *       *          *
    Miranda was waking.  Through her drug haze, she sensed that there was someone else in the room. 
    She caught a whiff of men’s cologne and her suspicions were confirmed.
    “Daddy?” She said weakly, trying to open her eyes. 
    She just caught a glance at the back side of a tall and broad shouldered dark haired man leaving her room for the hallway beyond.
    Whoever that was, he’s gone now , she thought and fell immediately back to sleep.
*          *          *
    Brian had felt the need to leave her room hastily, despite the intense longing he had to speak with her, to explain his shortcomings the night she was hurt. 
    There was no need to upset her with his strange face, especially not when this was the time she needed to be surrounded by those who knew and loved her most. 
    So long as he was on Russ Gundy’s payroll, paid to look out for Miranda’s needs, he would try to keep his distance. 
    Outside the door, he turned to the two young security guards who were seated there in black Logan Security and Investigations uniforms. 
    They were in their early twenties but nearly the size of Brian himself.
    Brian knew better than anyone how size could intimidate people into obeying a man. 
    His employees would have no trouble in getting people to adhere to the security parameters they had installed in the Miranda’s best interests.
    The press, both the respectable papers and tabloids alike, were having a field day with the story of her injury and the shooting death of her equally famous fiancé. 
    Brian’s mind was filled with disgust as he recalled the image of the Mercedes on the front page of many of San Francisco’s dailies.
    Yes, the press hounds were out and sniffing about because the curious public wanted to know what was happening to the infamous Miranda Fowler.  They were speculating about the extent of her injuries, eagerly awaiting a leak from a hospital staff member.
    Brian didn’t want those vultures anywhere near her. 
    Not if he could do anything to help it.
    “Let me see that list of approved visitors again, mate,” he directed the nearest bodyguard gruffly.
    “Yes, sir.” The brunette obediently passed his boss the clipboard.
    Was he in trouble? 
    He would do anything the boss instructed him to do, just as he had in the past. 
    He respected his employer immeasurably .  Brian Logan himself was not officially on the list, at his own request but Chris had let him in to see Miranda Fowler, anyway – Russ Gundy had okayed it. 
    Thee Miranda Fowler... He hadn’t actually seen her yet but he knew she was in there, not only because he had read the newspapers and seen her on TV but also because Mr. Logan told him so.
    “As you are well aware, besides the doctors, nurses and police officers who’ll be seeing her from time to time, I’m to be the only exception to this list.” Brian handed the clipboard to the second bodyguard and tapped its single sheet of paper, indicating the short list of names in large black print. “Check every ID badge from anyone claiming to be seeing her in any official capacity.  Got it?”
    “Got it,” they said in unison.
     “Only Russ or Nancee Gundy can authorize any other visitors, no matter what that visitor’s claim to fame may be.  Understand?”
    They nodded and made noises of