Chapter Three #2
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, and padded straps tugged on her shoulders as if she needed a reminder of the bomb she wore on her back.
“The backpack, I’m guessing. They had to know there was no way anyone would let a little kid walk around saddled with a bomb.
” She tapped on the phone screen. “But I got another message before you took off.” She tapped into another thread and showed him the previous communication.
I’ve given you a dozen reasons. Cooperate.
“A dozen? So, we are thinking maybe twelve bombs?”
She held a palm up. “Who knows? It’s possible, but the timing feels off.”
Jake frowned then unzipped a pocket on Max’s tactical vest. “I want to show you something.” He reached inside the pocket and pulled out a plastic evidence bag.
She frowned as she eyed the red-and-white laminated We’ll Be Back Soon sign with its movable clock hands pointing to straight-up twelve o’clock. “Where did you—”
“We pulled it out of the debris around the ticket booth. It was still thumbtacked to a chunk of particle board.”
She was about to press him for more information, but every question she had was answered when he turned the card over to show her where someone had written “Time’s up” in thick black marker on the back.
“Is this the twelve?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Possibly.”
The only sound she heard as the two of them stared at the sign was the wind rushing past her ears. Or was it her pulse pounding?
“I think there are twelve bombs,” she said, admitting her worst fear at last. “The timing on this might be to throw us off.”
“I do, too,” he agreed.
“Do you think they plan to detonate one every hour?” she mused.
His lips thinned into a tight line. “Possibly,” he repeated.
Jake read the message again, then tipped his head back as if absorbing the information. “But if there are twelve and they started at noon, that only gets us up to eleven o’clock tonight.”
“But midnight is going to be a real banger,” she said, scooting forward and twisting to peer over her shoulder at the backpack. “This one wasn’t hidden. It was handed over.” She paused for a second. “To a child.”
He spoke the part she couldn’t bear to think about too hard aloud. “Because they knew you’d play the hero.” He reached for one of the straps. “We need to get this off you.”
“But they’re watching,” she reminded him, trying to pull away.
“But what if—” Cassidy got one arm and half the sentence out before a bang and the screech of tearing metal filled the air.
Cassidy’s knee hit the deck of the carousel hard. Her breaths came in short, sharp pants as the sounds of falling debris filtered through the residual ringing in her ears.
Shattered glass. The dull clank of metal hitting the ground. Shouts. A cry of agony.
She turned her head and spotted Trooper Rhodes sprawled on the tarmac. Another man held his shoulders down as the young officer writhed in pain.
Her phone vibrated, dancing across the corrugated metal deck. She was still processing the fact that Jake had hurled his own body on top of hers, so she was slow to react. He reached for the device and held it up to her face to unlock the screen.
She vowed to herself she wouldn’t point out the way he sandwiched a bomb between their bodies. He’d acted on instinct, she knew, but still she appreciated his intentions.
“Cass.”
“Huh?” she managed to grunt as she uncurled her body.
“Cass, look.”
The command in his tone sliced through the layer of fuzziness in her head. All of her fragmented thoughts coalesced once again as she snapped back into the here and now.
Blinking rapidly, she took it all in.
More shouts from the midway. A medic pushing people aside to get to Rhodes. Manny’s corn dog stand a mess of twisted metal and broken glass. Someone shouting something about propane tanks. Boots scraping, scrambling, thumping as people ran into and away from danger.
“Cassidy,” Jake said her name a third time, but this time it came out infinitely gentler.
She looked down at the screen. There, under the first two instructions the bomber had sent, they’d added a third.
Do not stop the ride.
Do not get off the ride.
Do not remove your gear, Lieutenant.
“Lieutenant again. Is it possible they know you,” he said, his voice shaky with urgency.
She blinked at him, incredulous. Did he think she hadn’t already gone there?
Was it possible he believed she wasn’t nearly as panicked as he thought she should be?
Had she brought this mayhem in with her?
She wagged her head in a desperate attempt to shake off some of the intrusive thoughts crowding in in on her.
“Anything’s possible,” she conceded at last.
“You need to think. Who could this be?”
Lieutenant. She’d spent most of her career in Security Forces. What used to be known as Military Police. How many people had she arrested? How many careers derailed?
She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard. It wasn’t her fault people couldn’t keep their lives straight. She hadn’t been the one who’d broken the law. All she’d done was do her job well.
“Like you, I’ve spent most of my career catching the bad guys.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “I was good at it.”
He nodded, digesting her assertion as simple fact.
“Okay.” He pushed himself up and brushed his hand down his vest. “While you think on that, I’m going to go check on the situation.
” He nodded to the mangled food concession.
“Then I’m going to meet with Aronson. Can your guy get us detailed maps of the fairgrounds? ”
“I’ve already asked Bud to supply them. Your people should have everything they need.”
Jake gave a soft huff as he brushed down his pants. He peered at her, then offered his hand.
She wanted to bat it away, but then she met Max’s concerned amber eyes.
The dog had scrambled to his paws when his partner rose.
Now he stared back at her, as earnest and eager as his partner.
Jake was trying to help, and she was clinging to childhood hurts.
The realization made her feel more than a little petty.
Wetting her lips, she shifted onto her hip and placed her hand in his.
He hauled her to her feet and steadied her, which wasn’t easy, considering the weight of the backpack and the fact they still spun in slow, sweeping circles.
She stumbled into his chest, but he caught her easily, his booted feet spread wide for balance.
“Thanks.” Her voice came out too breathy for her liking, but she cut herself a little slack. She was dizzier than she cared to admit to anyone, even herself.
He guided her back onto the bench and placed her phone beside her on the seat. The battery saver kicked in and the screen was black once more, but she’d never be able to erase the glaring green message bubbles from her memory.
She was the reason someone was doing this. But why? And why now? She’d been out of the service for years. Nothing made sense.
“I’m leaving Max here with you.” Jake placed his hand on the dog’s head.
“What? Why?” She looked from the German shepherd sitting at attention to his partner and back again.
“He’s a good guard dog, and I don’t think you need to be alone right now.”
“But—”
He made some sort of hand gesture then pointed to her feet.
“Stay.” The dog turned and dropped to his haunches at the spot Jake indicated.
“Listen, Max is highly trained. If he moves from this spot or give you any indication it’s time to bail, I want you out of that backpack and off this ride.
” He jabbed a finger at her phone. “I don’t care what they say. ”
“But shouldn’t he be—”
“There’s going to be plenty of time for Max to do his thing, trust me.
” He paused then said, “Trust him. I wasn’t kidding about his training.
He will sit like this until I get back, but if things start to go sideways, I want you to trust his instincts.
Believe me, they’re sharper than yours or mine. ”
Cassidy looked into the dog’s solemn eyes again, then nodded. “Okay. We’ll sit right here, won’t we, Trooper?”
She saw Jake’s shoulders lower slightly and would swear the dog leaned closer to her, but the latter might simply have been centrifugal force.
“I’ll be back.” He took two giant strides and leaped off the carousel.
“I’ve heard that line before.” Cassidy watched him jog away. When she turned her attention to her canine companion, she found Max watching her with his head tilted to the side. As if he was curious about their story.
Sighing, she reached out and gave the dog an awkward pat on his head. “Same old story. He went away, and I stayed here.” She leaned closer to Max and whispered into his enormous ear, “Spoiler alert. There was a time when he didn’t come back.”