Chapter Ten
“What’s the relationship between you and Cassidy Walker?” The colonel’s blunt question startled Jake from his thoughts.
Alarm bells rang in his head as he glanced at the older man. But Aronson only gave him profile. The man’s jaw was relaxed and his expression as neutral as his tone.
Jake wasn’t buying it for a moment.
He stalled for time. If the site commander was asking, he obviously considered his acquaintance with the main character in this farce to be relevant.
And if he wanted to remain active on this case, he needed pick his way through this minefield carefully.
Wetting his lips, he opted to go with the barest facts.
“We were high school classmates, but we haven’t been in contact for years.”
“Years?” Aronson slid him a sidelong glance.
“Not since college.”
“You seem to know one another fairly well,” the other man said, allowing his skepticism to creep into his tone.
“We did at one time, but as I said, it’s been years,” Jake repeated, refusing to give up anything more than the most basic facts.
“But you’re worried about her,” he persisted.
Puzzled by the comment, Jake frowned. “Of course, I am. She walked right into a trap set by some jerk who likes to blow things up.”
“A trap we believe was set for her,” Aronson pointed out.
Jake slowed as they approached the tinted-glass doors of Barton Coliseum. “What exactly is your concern, sir?”
Aronson halted altogether, his hand on the door handle.
“I’m concerned by your insistence on running down there every chance you get to sit next to a woman who may or may not have a bomb on her back.
I know we run toward danger, son, but you may be taking it too far.
” He took a deep breath. “My concern is you may not be approaching your work objectively. Or conducting your searches thoroughly—”
“Respectfully, sir, I was the one who ID’d the location of multiple devices—”
“With Ms. Walker’s help,” he interjected.
“Who better to help?” Jake struggled to keep his rising impatience in check.
“If the head of fairgrounds security was standing safe and secure in this arena, I’d be consulting with her here.
But she isn’t. And yes, we know each other…
knew each other…when we were kids. And yes, she is wearing what we have identified to be an explosive device, but we’re taking all the necessary precautions—”
“You think sitting next to her at the top of each hour is taking precautions?” The commander scoffed.
“You think leaving your partner with her when you aren’t there is the cautious thing to do?
” he demanded, gesturing to Max. “How many thousands of dollars did it cost to train him, Donovan? You’re treating a skilled detection dog like an emotional support animal. ”
Jake’s hand instinctively went to Max’s smooth head. “I beg to differ…sir.”
Colonel Aronson blew out a tired breath. “Listen, son, I know it can be difficult when there’s an…acquaintance involved in a case. If I need to call in one of the other K-9 units—”
“No, sir,” Jake interrupted before the other man could give voice to the notion of replacing him. “I promise you, Max and I are on it.”
The site commander studied him for a long, silent moment, then gave a brisk nod. “I’m getting fed up with dancing to this joker’s tune.”
“We all are, sir,” Jake assured him.
“Let’s get cracking then,” Aronson said, yanking the door open wide.
Jake followed him into the dim interior of the arena. A few team leads were hovering around one of the tall counters encircling a support post. Jake was happy to join them there while Aronson conferred with Bud Thompson and a woman dressed in a bright blue pantsuit.
He leaned closer to Evan Furst. “Who’s the suit?”
“Governor’s press secretary.” The other man kept a wary eye on the suit. “Things are about to get interesting.”
“Like they haven’t been already?”
Colonel Aronson broke away from the small knot of people and came over to them. “We’re splitting up on detection. LRPD will cover the outer perimeter, including the auxiliary buildings,” he announced.
Jake murmured to Furst, “I hope they strike out in those buildings. We moved about a dozen head of expensive cattle there earlier in the day.”
Aronson turned to him. “I’m putting you on the inner circle. I need you to cover most of the arcade games. We’ve hardly looked at any of them except the remains of the duck game.”
Jake nodded, wondering if the colonel had given him the inner circle because it would keep him close to Cass, or if he’d given up on trying to make him stay away.
Either way, he wasn’t about to argue with the man.
He stood, shifting his weight impatiently as the other teams were assigned to investigation or intervention.
The moment they were dismissed, he pivoted for the door.
They were stepping out into the afternoon sunlight when an explosion sent them diving for ground.
Max and the LRPD detection dog, a black Labrador named Holmes, strained against their leads, unbothered by the noise but keen in their desire to track down the source of the sulfurous scent wafting toward them.
The glass doors flew open behind them. Aronson and the other officers assembled spilled out onto the asphalt apron.
“Where?” Aronson demanded, head swiveling as Jake and the LRPD handler dusted themselves off.
“South.” Jake nodded in the direction of a thin plume of smoke rising above the buildings behind the arena. “Looks like Poultry.”
Colonel Aronson snatched his radio from its clip. “Yardley, come in,” he barked.
Static crackled, then a voice came across loud and clear. “Yardley, sir.”
“What’s happening?” the commander demanded.
“Sir, we have a failed intervention.”
“Details,” Aronson prompted.
“No casualties. Minimal property damage. Well, aside from Rex,” he amended.
Jake winced as Aronson let loose with an expletive on behalf of them all.
The Arkansas State Police had introduced their robotic dog the previous year to great fanfare.
The four-legged android controlled by a bomb squad specialist was often sent to assess the IED a team had identified and to determine the best path to intervention in disarming the device.
“Damage assessment?”
“Looks like we’re going to be back to using old Rufus for a while,” the man reported, referring to the less-sophisticated robot the LRPD used.
“I don’t think any of the birds were harmed.
This was not very powerful. Noisy, for sure, and Rex was right up in it, but other than disabling the bot, it didn’t do much damage. ”
“I’m sending a team in to help with investigation.”
Aronson’s eyes skipped over Jake. “You and you,” he said, pointing to a couple of firefighters. “Go check the site.” Turning back to Jake and the detection team from LRPD, he said, “I’m getting tired of this bozo setting off firecrackers for fun. Find me the last three and let’s get them disarmed.”
“Last two.” Jake wanted to bite back the correction, but it was out there, so instead he bit the tip of his tongue.
“Excuse me?” Aronson’s brows lowered like thunderclouds.
“It’s two, sir. We’ve located nine on the grounds, but we know where the tenth one is.” The colonel stared back at him, his expression blank. “It’s strapped to Cassidy Walker’s back.”
The blunt reminder killed the conversations taking place around them. The site commander’s jaw flexed, but he nodded once in acknowledgment. “Right.” Aronson turned to the other detection team. “We have two to locate. Go find them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aronson’s phone lit up. Jake saw the words “Governor’s Office” appear on the screen. The head honcho let loose with another soft-spoken expletive before tapping to accept the call.
“Yes, Governor,” he said, turning on his heel and marching back into the dim confines of the arena.
Jake noticed none of the other team leads followed the site commander inside. He caught Evan Furst’s eye and the shorter man shrugged. “Safer out here with the bombs.”
“I hear you.” With a smirk and smart salute, Jake clicked his tongue, and he and Max set off down the hill.
But rather than make a beeline for Cass and the carousel, Jake steered the dog to the long line of carnival games along the east side of the concourse. He moved slowly, giving Max enough lead to work his way methodically from one stall to the next while he did a visual inspection.
The bleat of a police warning siren told him they’d likely gathered an audience.
The relentless whop-whop-whop of a helicopter’s rotor added to the already oppressive sense of foreboding.
As they moved from a water pistol game to darts, he chanced a glance up at the chopper.
Residents of larger cities might be used to the sound of traffic helicopters and the like, but in Little Rock, they usually only saw med flights transporting patients to one of the major hospitals or the occasional military squadron using the Air Force Base for a layover.
The temptation to pull out his phone and check the local news to see what was being said was strong, but he resisted.
When Max lingered at the basketball free-throw game, Jake moved in for a closer look.
Opening the plywood board that served as a gate, he and his partner stepped into the open space between the counter and the hoops.
Jake slanted his head back to check out the enormous stuffed animals and cartoon characters suspended from the netting above the booth.
Turning in the slow circle, he stared up at the three hoops with their chipping plywood backboards.
Judging from his days of playing pickup games at the rec center, Jake estimated the goals hung at least a foot higher than regulation would stipulate.
No doubt the rims were a good inch smaller in diameter, too, he thought with a smirk.
A high-pitched whine of impatience drew his attention. He turned to find Max sitting directly in front of the counter where the barker would stand taunting people into taking a shot.
“What did you find, boy?”