Chapter Twelve
Her fault.
This was all because of her.
A thousand thoughts, both useful and inane, swirled through her head in the eerily quiet moments after the call dropped, but one circled back time and time again.
This was all her fault.
Cassidy blinked at Jake. The darkened phone still balanced on his open palm, her disbelief reflected in his eyes. Then his jaw tightened and he tossed the phone into her lap. He grappled with his radio, yanking the clip with a force that made her flinch.
“Command?” he barked into the radio. “Command, come in.”
The urgency in the request sent a ripple down her spine. Her toes tingled and her fingers twitched as she came back to her senses. Someone had tried to blow up Special Agent Emma Parker. Someone had blown up Agent Parker’s car. With her in it?
Jake’s phone rang and he reached for it. “It’s Aronson.”
“Oh no.” The words slipped out on a moan. Colonel Aronson would not be calling Jake unless there was news he didn’t want relayed to the entire team. Emma Parker was dead. Cassidy’s vision shrank down to a pinpoint as horror pumped through her veins like adrenaline.
A woman she didn’t even know had been killed because someone wanted to kill her. How could a day that had started out so well go so unspeakably wrong?
Cassidy sat staring at her fingers twisted in her lap.
Baker.
Emma had gone to see Airman Baker.
A man discharged over a decade before because Cassidy had snagged him on a gate check.
Had he waited all this time to get back at her?
He’d been busted for possession. Sure, it had derailed his military career, but it wasn’t like the arrest had ruined the guy’s life.
He’d barely been twenty-one. It wasn’t like he couldn’t start again after leaving the Air Force.
Something wasn’t adding up.
The timing was all off.
Timing.
Jake’s warm, broad hand landed on top of hers. A tidal wave of emotion rose inside her. Cassidy bit her lip hard, but she wasn’t sure she could outrun it.
While Jake spoke into his phone, she turned to look at the colorful booths as they whizzed past. The explosions had been timed. One per hour. And when they didn’t go off as planned, they were capable of being set off at will.
A quick glance down at the phone screen showed the four o’clock hour had come and gone without an explosion on the fairgrounds.
Was it Baker? Had the perpetrator been so busy fending off Emma Parker they hadn’t had time to stick to their own deadline? And they were watching her. Waiting for her to break. To try to run away.
Passing her tongue over her front teeth, Cassidy inhaled as she sat straighter. They’d miscalculated. She’d wear their bomb until they blew her sky-high. She’d never give up. Never back down.
“Parker is okay.” Jake leaned in closer and gave her clasped hands a gentle squeeze. “It was a stun grenade. They did break the window with a brick, but they tossed the flash-bang in after.”
“She bailed?” Cassidy’s voice was barely more than a croak.
“She did. Ended up with some bruises from where she hit the pavement. Her car is toast though.”
“But she’s okay,” Cassidy confirmed.
“She’s fine.”
“Did she see him? Was it Baker?”
“We’re getting details thirdhand at this point, but no.” Jake gave his head a shake, then shrugged. “They say she didn’t get a good look at whoever did the smash-and-blow, but she says she doesn’t believe it was Trevor Baker.”
“Awfully coincidental to not be him.”
Then she remembered the last few words Emma Parker had said before the explosion.
I don’t think this is the Baker we’re—
Cassidy frowned as she turned the words over in her mind.
She couldn’t help feeling they’d been on the right track, but they were missing something crucial.
Even if Baker had gone after Emma Parker the minute she turned away from the house, he would have had to gather his weapons before following her to her car.
It didn’t seem probable, but something wouldn’t let her scratch Baker off her mental list of suspects entirely.
“But he was home?” she prompted.
He covered his phone and answered her without pulling it away from his ear. “Yes. She said he confirmed his identity when he answered the door.” He went back to the call. “When we talk to her again, we need to ask her if he said anything about a brother.”
Biting her lip, she turned away as she processed the information. Southwest Little Rock meant he didn’t live far from the fairgrounds. It was entirely possible the person who carried out the attack on Agent Parker was nearby.
“Can we get a location on the Baker home?”
One corner of his mouth rose as he held up a finger to ask her to wait as he took in more information. He scribbled something on the edge of the battered paper map, bobbing his head as the person on the other end of the call continued to talk.
Growing impatient, Cassidy unlaced her fingers and shifted to sit on her hands, flattening them beneath her legs and anchoring herself to the bench. The second he ended the call, she pounced.
“Where is the house?”
He gave her a wry smirk. “Over on West 32nd Street.”
“West 32nd?” she repeated as she tried to get her bearings. “You mean…” Her words trailing off, she hooked a thumb over her shoulder, momentarily oblivious to the fact they were riding in circles.
“A few blocks west of here. Maybe five minutes’ walk?” He blew out a breath. “According to Emma Parker’s superior, she’s convinced the elder Baker is connected, if not the culprit. They’re checking her out at the hospital now, but she wanted to let us know she thinks we’re on the trail.”
“It’s possible for someone to get over to 32nd and back quickly.” Cassidy turned the possibility over in her mind. Then she recalled another possibly crucial piece. “They missed four o’clock,” she pointed out.
“It’s been noted.” He heaved a sigh, then scrubbed a hand over his face.
Sensing he was getting ready to leave, she scrambled to get some of her own questioned answered. “Hey, did Bud get the guy from the attractions company yet?”
“Not that I know of,” he said, gazing out at the midway.
“I’ll nudge him to reach out again,” she told him.
Jake grimaced. “I have to get back to the search. Can you document everything you can remember about the Baker case? Make a voice memo if you don’t think you can type it into your phone.
” He sucked in a deep breath then squeezed his eyes shut.
“I have no idea how you’re still holding it together on here. This would be killing me.”
“Everyone underestimates my stubborn streak.”
“Not me.” Jake rose and Max clattered to get his paws under him again. “I know exactly how stubborn you can be.”
She would have objected to his statement, but he’d already moved to the edge of the platform, preparing to jump.
“Hey!” When he turned back, she tried for a stern stare.
“Be careful, okay? At this point, I’m willing to let them blow the whole place to pieces, but I don’t think I can handle anyone else getting hurt. ”
“I will,” he promised her, his gentle smile reassuring. “Focus on dredging up every little detail you can. At this point, we have no idea what may be useful, so don’t leave anything out.”
“I won’t.”
He bent his knees, as if preparing to jump, but then he turned back. “Hey, Cass?”
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t care about the property damage, we could get you out of this pack and off this thing,” he noted.
She swallowed hard. The same thought popped into her head every few minutes. She could save herself, but then what? Whoever was doing this would still be out there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Willing to strike again at the first opportunity.
Could she live that way? No.
“Yeah, but…if they don’t have me, we’ll never get them,” she pointed out.
He bit down on his bottom lip as if he had to physically repress whatever he wanted to say, then nodded once before taking the leap.
“I’ll be back to check in,” he declared without so much as a glance over his shoulder.
“You know where to find me.” She shrugged, but the joke was wearing as thin as her nerves.
This time she forced herself not to follow his retreating form. Watching him go was torture, and she was getting tired of beating herself up over their situation. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not with Jake. Not with Baker or whoever was doing this. And she was tired of absorbing the hits.
It was time to strike back.
Opening the memo section on her phone, she tapped the little microphone icon and began to speak.
When she was done dictating the gist of the story, she stopped the recording and slanted her head back, closing her eyes and trying to conjure the scene.
She’d worked in security and law enforcement long enough to know the key to most locked boxes was often lying in plain sight.
She needed to relax and try to piece together the whole picture.
She’d traveled back in time to the day she’d first encountered Airman Trevor Baker. She’d had a corporal working with her that day. A trainee. Not new to Security Forces, but new to the base. They were going through the motions. A routine check for ID and guest clearance.
The car was sporty. She’d always been bad at identifying models, but she knew for certain it was a Chevrolet. Newer. Shiny and sleek but outfitted with one of those rumbly exhaust systems designed to draw attention. It had sure caught hers.
Her mobile phone buzzed, jerking her out of the memory.
She looked down at the device in her hand, but the lock screen displayed only a reflection of the sunny weather. Groaning, she reached for her original phone and clicked open the messaging application.
Miss me?
She gave an indelicate snort but didn’t bother typing a reply. It vibrated again a second later.
How’s life in the fast lane, Lieutenant?
This time, her anger overrode her impulse control. Tapping the reply window, she answered.
I love it here.