Chapter Nine
Cassidy’s mind swam with confusion. Between the blast, the near confrontation with Jake about their past, and hours spent spinning on this never-ending merry-go-round, she was completely undone.
She was so tired of watching him walk away. She was sick—literally sick—of being stuck on this ride. She was also feeling fairly fed up with the teams working the site looking at her like she was some kind of helpless heroine. She was working this case as hard as any of them.
And with a bomb strapped to her back.
Maybe not her brightest idea, but she’d acted on instinct. And she’d do it again. Probably.
The click of toenails on metal dragged her out of her sulk. She turned to find Max standing at the edge of the platform,
“You’re right,” she said, addressing the dog as if he were holding up his end of the conversation. “I would. I couldn’t let an innocent kid walk around with it, could I? What if he’d gotten on the bus? Who knows what this lunatic might do.”
Max opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he simply started panting.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, dismissing his nonverbal commentary with a wave of her hand. “Well, sometimes someone actually has to step up and be the hero, you know?”
The dog’s eyebrows twitched, then he turned and plopped his rump down, staring out at the midway, his eyes bright and ears standing at attention.
“Don’t be cute.”
Max cast her a pitying glance, then smiled his doggie smile and returned to his surveillance. Cassidy decided to take a cue from the dog and get busy finding something else to do.
“Fine. You can’t help it.”
She picked up the map Jake had left behind and unfolded it on the bench beside her, smoothing the creases. Jake had marked each of the locations where a device had been located, but they were still on the hunt.
Cassidy was afraid the tormentor may have thrown out any plan they’d originally had when she hadn’t played by the rules, but there must have been one at the start.
They’d taken a gamble in giving the bag to Darien to start but, given the tone of the messages sent, they’d seen it as a calculated risk.
They’d assumed—-correctly—she would step between the boy and danger.
But why scatter bombs around the fairgrounds to start? Simply intent on causing as much mayhem as possible? Was it a mind game? Most likely both, she decided.
The teams had been lucky so far. Despite the sheer number of explosions, only minor injuries had been sustained. And Cassidy wanted to keep it that way.
The sound of a helicopter approaching made her heart drop into the depths of her belly.
She knew any daydreams she might have entertained as far as keeping this confrontation under wraps was shot.
The fairgrounds were surrounded by residential neighborhoods.
Even at midday during the work week, someone had undoubtedly heard the blasts and called the police.
Local law enforcement was already on the scene, of course, but the neighbors didn’t know what was happening.
Bud and the rest of her security team had done their best to dodge the questions of the reporters on site at the time of the initial threat, but now…
It was only natural for the public to turn to the media for answers.
She purposefully avoided thinking about social media. It was beast no one could contain.
Still, she was hopeful. If they could get through this and find out who exactly was responsible, they might be able to get the grounds in good enough condition to open the fair to the public.
But they had to get through it first.
In one piece.
Maybe if she could find the pattern, they could locate the rest of the devices before things got any more out of hand.
Staring down at the map, she let her vision go blurry. Then she blinked it into focus. The second time she did this, she thought maybe she’d spotted a possible pattern.
Without taking her eyes off the map, she grappled for the pen tucked into the crease of the bench.
Drawing lightly, so as not to mark up the document too much, she started sketching a loose arc connecting the north gate to the buildings lining the outer perimeter of the fairgrounds proper.
When she completed the circle, she was gratified to see it encompassed many of the bomb sites already identified.
She made note of a couple of outbuildings that hadn’t been on the list she’d given Jake to start.
Then, placing the tip of the pen on the carousel, she drew a smaller circle inside the boundary she’d already created.
The line ran straight through the Ferris wheel standing silent sentry next to her, to the duck pond game and through the kiddie rides.
Flexing her jaw, she lifted her head and looked out over the midway. “I see you,” she whispered to her unseen terrorist.
Max made a soft, inquisitive noise. It reminded her of old Scooby-Doo cartoons. The canine vocalization of a question mark.
“I think we’re getting there, buddy.”
The dog turned his head, as if awaiting a command, but did not move from his post.
Cassidy stared down at the map again, willing the key to this puzzle to come to her. “They’re getting closer,” she said distractedly. “What’s next?”
Beside her, her phone buzzed, skittering along the bench.
She jerked as if struck by a bullet. The cell Bud had brought to her was not the device lighting up. It was her phone. A text notification blared across the screen. Dread pooled in her gut. “Oh no.” She reached for the device. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
Max keened softly and moved closer, his amber eyes liquid with concern.
She opened the messaging app and found two terrifying words glaring back at her.
I’m bored
A choked laugh of disbelief escaped her. She pressed a hand to her chest, but it did little to quell the hammering of her heart. “Dude, this is your idea of a good time, not mine.”
As if sensing the uptick of tension in her, Max moved to sit directly in front of her, his backside planted firmly on her toes. She gave the dog a puzzled frown. “You trying to hold me captive, too?”
Then something changed.
At first, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
A breeze blew her hair back from her cheek.
She looked up at the cables and trailers scattered along the back of the midway.
Something was different. It was definitely breezier than a minute earlier.
Was there weather moving in? Without thinking, she glanced up, but the canopy of the carousel was now her sky.
She turned to look out at the concourse and found the sun was still shining brightly.
Max’s toenails clattered when he shifted, throwing his weight into her. “Hey now,” she chided.
And then it all clicked.
The carousel was moving faster.
Whipping her head around as they sailed past the controls, she expected to find someone standing near them. But the area around the ride was clear. She locked on to the damaged food stand, silently counting the seconds as she zipped by.
She wasn’t imagining it.
Max sat with his front paws splayed wide, struggling to hold his ground against the increase in centrifugal force. Cassidy placed a hand atop the shepherd’s head, unsure if she was trying to steady him or herself. Either way, it seemed to help them both.
“Someone hit the gas, huh, boy?” Head swiveling, she scanned the entire three-sixty view for anyone who might be responsible for the sudden acceleration.
Then her phone buzzed.
Another message from another number.
Turns out time doesn’t fly when you’re having fun. Let’s speed things up.
“Oh no.” A part of her wanted to surrender to what felt like the inevitable outcome. Give up. Give in. Throw in the towel and tell whoever was doing this they’d won.
She was over it. And if they asked for something—-anything—in moment, she would concede to their demands if it meant an end to the torment.
But they’d made no demands, only taunts.
There could be no negotiation because they’d asked for nothing.
Was it truly possible they only wanted to torment her?
What had she ever done to deserve this? And how, if she was the target, could she make it all stop?
At this point, she’d gladly give herself over to whatever outcome the perpetrator deemed optimal.
But this needed to stop. She needed to get off this ride.
As if sensing the conciliatory direction on her thoughts, Max turned his head and placed his large muzzle on her thigh. Cassidy found herself staring into his stern, vigilant expression, and all thought of concession fled.
He wasn’t giving up.
No one else wanted to give up. Max, Jake and every other person on site was doing the work.
Putting themselves in danger and totally focused on achieving the best possible outcome.
They weren’t throwing themselves pity parties or telepathically negotiating with terrorists because they were tired and their backs ached.
Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she reached for her radio.
“Hey, Jake,” she called. Her voice quavered a bit, but there was no point in trying to pretend she was anything other than completely freaked out. There was a ghost in this machine, and she was stuck here with it.
“Copy,” came his reply.
“I think y’all need to come down here,” she said. “Someone’s messing with this thing.”
A beat passed before his reply came through. “Messing with what thing?”
“The carousel,” she clarified. “Our friend on the other end said they wanted to speed things up. I do believe they meant it literally.”
“Come again?”
“Either the motor on this ride is malfunctioning, or our bomber has a way to control the speed.” She drew a deep breath. “Regardless, I don’t think we’re going to have as much time as we’d like to find those other devices.”
“You have new messages?”
Cassidy found herself hoping the breathlessness she heard in his response meant he was on his way. As much as she wanted this to be over, she wanted the good guys to be the ones speeding up the timeline.