Chapter Two
“What have we got?” Captain Jake Donovan slid from the driver’s seat of his state-issued SUV. Squinting into the late--morning sun, he raised a hand to shade his eyes before reaching for a black cap with the Arkansas State Police logo.
“Bomb threat.” The firefighter hooked a thumb over his shoulder, then offered his hand. “Sergeant Evan Furst. I’m lead technician with the LRFD bomb squad.”
He shook hands with the young man in the LRFD shirt who’d met him at the south gate in an ATV, intent on taking Jake straight down onto the fairground’s colorful carnival midway.
“Where are we at?” Jake walked around to the passenger side of his vehicle before pressing the button on his key fob to release the rear door. He gave a short, sharp whistle and Max, a ninety-pound German shepherd, jumped out of the vehicle and promptly sat at Jake’s feet.
“We’re assembled near the corn dog stand, but Colonel Aronson is in the arena at the moment.” Furst gestured toward the midway.
“Let’s head down there first, then I’ll check in with the boss.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the carnival rides. “What have we got?”
Furst nodded. “We believe there’s at least one device on the merry-go-round.”
Beyond the food stand, the garishly outfitted carousel spun in a slow circle. Jake frowned as he noted it was the only ride in motion. The only one with people on it. But there was no music playing. The entire carnival was oddly quiet.
“It’s on there? Why is it running?”
“Instructions from head of Security, sir,” Furst explained with a grimace. “The threat came through to her via text message. Whoever is doing this said not to stop the carousel.”
“Text message?” Jake turned his head sharply, his brow furrowed in confusion. “And we think the device is on the ride?”
Sergeant Furst’s lips thinned into a tight line as he nodded. “The informant gave specific instruction not to the stop the ride. They claim there are multiple devices scattered around the grounds.”
“Do we know how many?”
“Head of Security is guessing twelve, but we are not certain.”
“Twelve?”
His tone was sharp enough to elicit a head tilt and a grunt from Max. Without looking, he reached down and placed a hand on his K-9 partner’s head to reassure the dog. Max sometimes had a better read on his emotions than he did himself.
He bent to be sure Max’s lead was securely clipped to his harness. The breakaway feature of the leash allowed him to deploy Max when they needed his speed and agility, but there were too many people around, and Jake didn’t have a clear picture on where they should begin their search.
“Who are all these people? I didn’t think the fair opened until tomorrow.”
“Media Day.” They set off in the direction of the corn dog stand.
“There are also workers finishing setup.” An autumnal breeze carried the scent of smoked meats and cooking grease.
“Food prep, too, I imagine,” Furst added with a wry smirk.
“They were taking photos with the governor and some kids from one of the local schools when Security called us in.”
“The governor’s here?” Jake’s eyes widened.
“Safe. His personal detail got him off the ride and into Barton.” Furst pointed toward the old arena in the center of the fairgrounds.
“And there was no detonation?” Jake asked.
“No, sir. We’re not sure what might trigger one, though,” Furst admitted.
Once the premier entertainment venue in Central Arkansas, Barton Coliseum lost its headliners to newer, flashier arenas, but still served as home to rodeos, monster truck rallies and other regional events.
Jake looked around. “And where is this ‘head of Security’…?” he prompted, letting the question dangle.
“Walker,” Furst advised.
Jake’s steps slowed as he caught sight of a blonde woman on one of the carousel benches, holding hands with a gangly boy seated across from her.
The fanciful seahorses on the ends of the seats sported glittering blue-green paint.
The boy sat on the edge of his seat, a black backpack looped over his narrow shoulders.
“Why is there a kid on there?” But before he could pick up the pace again, the woman moved to sit on the same bench as the boy.
They hugged, then seemed to tussle a bit.
“What the—” Jake clicked his tongue once and took off in a flat run.
“Hey, lady! Miss!” He sprinted toward the carousel. “Ma’am! Stop!”
Max galloped easily beside him, insultingly unwinded and enjoying the uphill jaunt.
“Ma’am,” Jake tried again, but he was too late.
Somehow the woman had managed to loop her arm through one of the backpack straps as the boy slithered loose. Now her young friend stood at the end of the bench and the black straps were settled firmly on her shoulders.
“Somebody grab him,” she shouted as they spun past again.
The wind caught the little boy’s oversize orange T-shirt as he stared at the ground swirling past the edge of the platform, his hand wrapped tightly around one of the poles supporting the canopy.
Using his nephews as a gauge, Jake guessed the kid was no more than six or seven. Tears ran down the boy’s face as he inched closer to the edge. Jake heard the woman call out again, shouting for someone to help the boy down.
They pulled up inside the metal fencing around the ride. Unfurling some slack in Max’s lead, he gave the dog the command to stay and then stepped forward. “I’ve got you, buddy.” He reached out to the boy the next time he passed. “You can meet my dog.”
The ride made another circuit, but this time Jake could see the kid wanted off but was scared to make the leap. All long, gangly arms and knobby knees, the boy braced to jump. “You’ll catch me?”
“Absolutely,” Jake shouted after him.
When he came around again, Jake counted down in a firm, commanding tone. “Three, two, one, jump!”
Max added emphasis to the prompt with a short, sharp bark.
The boy flung himself at Jake, who stumbled back on impact. The kid’s skinny limbs wrapped around him, and he hung on like a koala clinging to a tree trunk.
He wrapped the boy up tightly. “There you go, little man,” Jake said, breathless. “Good jump.”
“I was scared,” the small boy said, speaking into the crook of Jake’s neck.
“I know, but you did good.”
The boy peeled himself away enough to frown down at the bulky tactical vest Jake wore. “You’re all lumpy.”
Chuckling, Jake nodded as he turned away from the ride, determined to make the promised introduction then hand the boy off as soon as possible. “I guess I am. Wanna meet Max?”
Lowering the boy to the tarmac, he set him down beside the dog outfitted in matching tactical harness. Sitting at attention, they were almost the same height, but a good portion of his stature could be attributed to the dog’s ears.
“Trooper Max, meet… Hey, what’s your name?”
“Darien.” The boy stared back at him with eyes almost as big as Max’s ears. “He’s big. Does he bite?”
“Nah, never the good guys,” Jake said, giving Max’s head a gentle stroke to let the dog know all was well.
Darien mimicked the move, then instantly stepped back. “I never petted a big dog before,” he confessed. Then, as though he feared he’d insulted Max, he quickly added, “He’s real soft though.”
“Yes. Very soft.”
Furst reappeared with a woman wearing a T-shirt that matched Darien’s.
After identifying her as his teacher, Jake flashed her a quick smile in response to the profusion of thanks and admonishments flowing from the woman’s lips.
He patted Darien’s back and gave him a gentle shove into the woman’s grasping hands.
“Go on, buddy. Max and I have work to do.”
Straightening, he watched her lead her young charge away before turning to the firefighter. “Where’s this Walker person?” he demanded, switching gears without missing a beat.
Sergeant Furst nodded to the ride as the blonde wearing the backpack came whirling past again. “There.”
“She’s the head of Security?” Jake caught a glimpse of wispy blond hair she disappeared around the other side again.
“Cassidy Walker,” Furst affirmed. He glanced down at a small notebook. “Been working for the state fair for nearly three years. Former training officer for US Air Force Security Forces, 19th Security Forces Squadron, Little Rock AFB.”
“Cassidy Walker.” Jake’s mind reeled as if he was the one stuck on a merry-go-round.
“Excuse me,” the woman on the carousel called as she swung past them again.
Both men looked up in time to see her hold her mobile phone high. But they waited until she came around again to catch what she was shouting at them.
“He’s watching.” She waved the phone again. “They saw—”
Jake waited a beat then gave his partner the signal to come to heel. “Who saw what?”
“—saw me take the backpack,” she shouted on her next pass.
She spun around to the other side again and he stepped closer. “Come on, Max.”
The dog didn’t have to be told twice. Quickly taking up the slack in his lead, he leaped agilely onto the slow-moving ride. Jake had no choice but to follow, since his partner was clearly onto the scent of something at the base of one of the stationary horses.
He allowed the dog a moment to sniff his fill, then retracted some of the leash. “Whatcha got, boy? Something good?” Max looked up, his amber eyes bright with excitement. “Good boy. Come on, let’s see what’s happening here.”
Gripping poles as they walked against the movement of the ride, he kept his eyes fixed on the woman seated in the seahorse seat.
Her back was to him. Stands of streaky dark blond hair flew into her face.
He watched as she batted them away impatiently.
Her head swiveled as they came around to the midway side again.
He caught her frown in profile, then spoke softly, not keen to startle the woman who may or may not have willingly strapped a bomb onto her back.
She wouldn’t be the first possible terrorist to work from the inside.