Chapter Eleven #3
She glanced down at the phone clutched in her hand as Jake relayed her additional requests. He cast a sidelong glance at her, then added, “And something sweet. A cookie or brownie. Something with some sugar.”
She pinned him with a curious stare as he settled back onto the bench. “You think I need sugar?”
He shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
Cassidy chuckled, her cheeks warming with pleasure despite her best efforts to play it cool with him. “You’re probably right.”
He tilted his head as he studied her, looking every bit as curious as Max. “You’re not saying something.”
She shook her head. “I’m not…I can’t…” She gave a full-body shake and let out a grunt of frustration, then thumped her temple with two fingers. “There’s something right there about the Baker case, but I can’t quite pin it down.”
“Let’s talk about something else for a while. Maybe it will come to you if you’re not pressing so hard,” he suggested.
Knowing he was right, she waggled the phone at him. “Did Colonel Aronson show you the footage?”
Jake wet his lips, then shook his head. “No. He was too busy telling me what a damn fool I was, and that I might as well have knocked down a hornets’ nest.”
Leaning in, Cassidy pulled up the message containing the clip and let it play. “I wasn’t kidding about your farm. You can still swing for the fences.”
Jake’s grim expression softened, but his eyes narrowed as he watched. “I don’t regret taking it out,” he said as the video stopped.
“I would have done the same.”
“Aronson tells me the governor’s press person is having a fit.”
“No doubt.”
With Max resting at their feet, they lapsed into companionable conversation, discussing the bureaucracy surrounding their jobs, the members of the various response units they’d encountered throughout the day and the repairs that would need to be addressed if the fair was indeed going to open after all.
She had no idea how much time had passed, but it was significant enough that Jake sat up and looked around.
“Your pal must have had to go off site to get some food.”
“I guess so.” Cassidy scanned the area with each pass.
It seemed hard to believe, given how the scent of tantalizing fair food lingered in the air.
“Maybe I should have had Manny stay behind after all,” she said, tipping her head in the direction of the battered food stand. “I could go for a corn dog.”
“I can radio for someone else,” he offered.
She waved the offer away. “I’ll get Bud to raid my office. I have everything there.” She placed a quick call to her second-in-command, who responded right away.
Minutes later, Bud pulled up on his golf cart with bottled water. “I’ll go raid your desk drawer for protein bars,” he said as he tossed bottle after bottle to Jake, who snagged them like fly balls.
“Hey, in the center drawer there’s lip balm and a little bottle of ibuprofen,” she called as he climbed into the driver’s seat again. Bud raised a hand in acknowledgment then took off.
The mention of the painkillers brought forth the memory of the stash Trevor Baker’s brother had been transporting when the Jacksonville police had searched his car.
There was some connection to the brother’s arrest she couldn’t quite pin down.
Cassidy grabbed her phone and jabbed the screen until Agent Parker’s number rang through.
Emma answered the call with a harried, “Hello?”
“Have you left Baker’s place?”
“A minute ago. Hang on.” Emma huffed and puffed, clearly juggling her phone before she came back on the line. “Hey. Sorry. Getting back to my car.”
Cassidy held her breath as she waited to hear Agent Parker’s findings. “You’re still at Baker’s place?”
“Parked out front. I don’t think this is the Baker we’re—”
Emma’s assessment was swallowed up by the sound of shattering glass. Cass looked up, taking in Jake’s concerned frown.
“Emma, are you okay?”
A string of highly indelicate swear words streamed from the speaker. They were somewhat reassuring but were soon overridden by the sound of squealing tires.
“Parker, what’s happening?” Jake demanded.
“Someone threw a brick through my rear window.” She swore under her breath, but the words were nearly swallowed up by the roar of her car engine.
“A brick?” Cassidy said, dumbfounded.
But Jake snatched the phone from her fingers and raised it to his lips. “Pull over.”
“Uh, negative,” Emma responded.
“Are you sure it was a brick?” he demanded, his tone rising with urgency.
The squeal of brakes made both Cassidy and Jake wince. But Emma Parker had moved past swear words. Cassidy stared at Jake, her breath tangled in her throat, her mouth dry, as they listened as a series of clicks and snicks accompanied ragged, shallow breathing.
“Emma?” she shouted into the phone. “Emma, are you okay?”
But Emma didn’t answer. There was a grunt and the sound of a car door opening. Cassidy and Jake sat knee to knee, not daring to breathe. He held the phone between them, the green speaker icon lit against a black screen.
Then they heard a sound they’d grown all too accustomed to hearing.
An ear-splitting bang.
Booming reverb.
Screeching metal.
A shower of falling debris.
Then a truly terrifying whoosh.
The call dropped and the screen went blank.