Chapter Seventeen
Cassidy had finished her story about the Baker brothers’ arrests when another call came through.
“Picnic area is clear. Confirm deactivation.”
Jake smirked and let out a chuckle. “Sounds like Winter’s team, sir.”
Aronson nodded his understanding. When he turned away to respond to the report, she looked over at Jake.
“I can’t shake the feeling he’s hanging close,” she said.
“I don’t think he cares enough to set off the bomb in the Swine Barn.
I think, if anything, the backpack is the one we have to worry about. ”
“Agreed.” He leaned closer. “Assuming I’m correct in believing the RV is rigged and not a remote detonation.”
Max’s toenails clicked and scraped on the concrete floor as he shifted. Cassidy looked down at the dog who’d become her companion. He twisted around and was nibbling at the gauze wound around his leg to keep the dressing in place.
“Do you think he needs pain meds?”
Jake looked at his K-9, who ceased his exploration the moment he placed a quelling hand on him. “I think he’s okay. But if he can’t leave it alone, he may get stuck wearing the Cone of Shame.”
When the dog’s ears twitched and he turned his magnificent nose up, she laughed out loud. “I think he understood you.”
“Oh, I have no doubt he did.”
Colonel Aronson turned back to them. “The team at the Swine Barn says they are almost done,” he told them. “Leaves us with the backpack and the RV.”
“Ms. Walker believes Troy Baker may be somewhere in the area,” Jake informed him.
Aronson’s attention swung to her. “What makes you think he is?”
Again, she could only answer with a shrug. “Gut feeling? This is a vendetta, Colonel. He’s not going to be satisfied until he takes one last shot at me.”
Aronson quirked a single brow. “You may be right.” Their eyes met and held, his stare challenging, hers telling him she felt up to the task.
“Sir, we can’t dangle her out there like bait,” Jake argued.
“We can if I say we can,” Cassidy countered. When he opened his mouth to argue, she held up a hand. “I appreciate your concern, Jake, but I’ve been in this up to my neck since the beginning.”
“Yeah, but you’re out of it now,” he countered.
“For how long?” She tilted her head, brows lifting as she waited for his answer. She stood. “Colonel, I’m going to take a walk down to check in on Bud and the rest of the team.” She tipped her head toward the door. “You and Max coming with me, or do you prefer to skulk at a distance?”
Jake’s expression turned stormy, but before he could retort, the door opened and a silhouetted figure called to them. “Does anyone in here need water? Chief? Sorry I couldn’t get back to you, Ms. Walker. My unit needed me.”
She squinted against the afternoon glare. The trainee fireman who’d brought her a sandwich earlier stood backlit in the open doorway, but she could read the white print on the snug navy T-shirt he wore. She raised a hand in a wave. “I’m okay, thanks, T.B.”
“We’re good here,” Colonel Aronson said in a clipped tone.
When the door swung shut again, Jake smirked at her. “I think that guy has a crush on you.”
Cassidy laughed and rolled her eyes. “Well, of course he does. Look at how pretty I am after being terrorized and held hostage on a runaway merry-go-round.”
She rose from the chair and Max scrambled to sit tall. He looked so bright, so alert and ready for action, it was hard to believe he’d been injured. “You don’t skulk, do you, big guy?”
“Never,” Jake said as he stood, too. “We’re sticking with her, sir,” he said to Colonel Aronson. A statement, not a request.
“I had no doubt you would.”
Cassidy tried to hide her smile as she strode to the doors, confident Jake and Max would be right behind.
When they emerged, the sun was close to the horizon, the golden rays of the autumn day morphing into orange and red in their last hurrah.
In the shadowy corners of the fairgrounds, lights were coming on.
She looked to her right and saw the golf cart was missing.
“We’ve been cart-jacked.”
“It was probably your water boy, gone off to fetch you whatever you might need, Ms. Walker,” he mocked.
She snorted. “Keep it up. I haven’t seen Jealous Jake since Andy Schmidt asked me to come over to his house so he could copy my biology notes.”
Jake scowled and her smile widened. He’d been no slouch back when they were in school, but Andy had been the quarterback and captain of the football team.
She’d thought she’d reached a diplomatic solution by getting the secretary to let her run off copies in the school office, but teenage Jake had simmered for a day or two after.
He was so cool and contained now, it was hard to imagine him seething over anything.
“I’m not jealous.” He looked down at Max, his lips quirking at the corners. “Much.”
For his part, Max strained at his shortened lead.
“He looks ready to get back in the action.”
Jake nodded but still failed to meet her eyes. “He loves his job.”
Deciding she’d let him off the hook—for now—she started down the hill. “Let’s let him get back to it.”
She’d only gone a few yards when the German shepherd caught up to her, towing Jake behind him. “Hey, no overdoing it, buddy,” she admonished, giving him a pat on the neck. “Light duty for you.”
They were passing the dairy farms booth when they ran into the team lead for the firefighters.
“Hey,” Jake said to the man with “Furst” printed above the emblem on his chest. “How’s it going down there?”
“I have a team finishing up in the hog pens.” He nodded to Cassidy. “Talked to your guy a couple minutes ago. He had nothing suspicious to report.”
“Thank you.” Then, remembering the golf cart, she said, “Hey, I think your trainee took off with my cart.”
Furst looked puzzled. “Trainee?”
“Yeah. He’s been checking on me all afternoon,” she told him, hoping to jog his memory. “If you see him, would you tell him to bring the cart down to where Bud and the other guys on surveillance are set up?”
“Uh-huh,” Furst said with a vague nod. As they started to move past them, he reached out and snagged her arm. “Wait. We don’t have any trainees on site.”
“What?” She blinked, confused by both his assertion and his firm grip.
“We don’t bring trainees out on calls like this,” he said, his voice growing strident. Jake shot a pointed look at the man’s hand and the firefighter instantly released her, holding his hand high as if swearing an oath. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Cassidy could not have cared less about the man’s hand.
Her brain was pinging. She glanced at Jake then back to Furst. “There’s a guy here wearing a navy-blue shirt with the word ‘Trainee’ printed below the LRFD.
He’s been checking in on me regularly.” She paused.
“Had a hat like yours.” She pointed to the cap Furst wore.
Furst tilted his head. “Our trainees don’t have special shirts. They wear standard issue. We have them wear vests when we’re running a drill but…” He shook his head. It was clear from his expression he knew no such person existed.
Whirling, she pinned Jake with a stare. “You saw him, right?”
Jake nodded. “Earlier, and again a few minutes ago,” he confirmed. “What did you call him?”
Everything slowed inside her, sound and light blurring and slurring in the moment before the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. “T.B.,” she murmured. “He said everyone called him T.B. Troy—”
“Baker,” she and Jake said at the same time.
“Now we know how he always knew what was going on.”
“He was walking right up to me all day,” she said, incredulous. “He’s been toying with us the whole time.”
Jake grabbed her hand. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm her or to keep her from running off to look for Baker. Either way, it was effective.
“Would you catch Colonel Aronson up?” Jake asked Furst, hooking a thumb toward the arena. “I’m betting Baker has a radio, so I don’t want to broadcast it. He’s seen Cassidy and knows she’s still on the case, so I think it’s safe to assume he’s around here somewhere.”
Furst nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Cassidy stood rooted to the spot as they watched the other man jog up the hill. “All day. Right there.”
“We knew he had eyes on you. And ears, I guess.”
Flexing her jaw, she drew a deep breath and set out for the midway. She didn’t have to break stride for Jake and Max to catch up to her easily.
“What are you planning to do?” Jake huffed.
“We’re going to draw him out.”
“We need a plan.”
“Plans haven’t gotten us anywhere,” she snapped.
“We’ve been making up plans and pulling threads all day.
” She stopped, throwing her arms out wide.
“It’s all unraveled now, Jake. We don’t have time to think and plan.
It’s going to get dark soon, and the minute it does, everything shifts even more to his advantage.
We need to act. The sun is going down and so is this jerk. ”
Without waiting for him to reply, she set out on a trajectory straight for the crumpled carousel. The wreckage of the Ferris wheel cast creepy, elongated shadows on the pavement. The glitter-and-gilt-painted horses beneath the crushed canopy were not only garish, but a little ghoulish as well.
“Looks like the set of a horror film,” she said.
“Don’t even,” Jake growled. “Cass, I can’t let you go off half-cocked like this—”
“You’re not letting me,” she shot back. “And I’m not half-cocked. I’m locked and loaded. I’m telling you I’m over this.” She made a chopping motion with her hand, then cast a wary glance at the carousel where she’d been held captive for hours. “It needs to stop. I’m getting off this ride.”
She looked back at him, but rather than glaring down at her with his familiar scowl set in stone, he was staring off at a spot south of the mangled amusements.
“What?”
Whirling to follow the line of his stare, she froze when she saw what had captured his attention. There, parked alongside the Mystery Maze Fun House, sat the golf cart they’d left outside the arena.
The one Troy Baker had likely commandeered.