The weeks leading up to the fair were a grind of endless meetings and walk-throughs. Once the gates opened to the public, the action kicked into high gear. Parking-lot fender benders. The constant competition and sometimes outright sabotage between vendors. Fights breaking out in the lines for the carnival rides. Tearful reunions between frightened parents and their wandering kids. The neon lights. The obnoxious cajoling and taunts of the barkers running the games.
These ten days encapsulated the kind of mostly harmless bedlam she thrived on.
Instinctively, she checked the sky again. Still no sign of rain clouds. This year would be different. Exhaling long and soft, she allowed her shoulders to relax. There’d be no torrential storms dampening attendance numbers and setting tempers on edge. Conditions looked to be optimal.
The grounds should be crowded during the day. On the weekdays, office workers would come for lunch and teenagers would rule the nights. The weekends would be packed with families.
It was a good day, and if her luck held, it would be an even better week.
Cassidy’s phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She pulled it out and saw a text from an unknown caller. Not unusual. Nearly every exhibitor, vendor and fair worker had her mobile number. Still, if anyone truly needed her, they’d call over the radio.
“Should we go again?”
The governor’s suggestion was met by the cheers of the children. Between them and her exaggerated groan, they almost managed to drown out the familiar calliope music blaring from hidden speakers.
There were ten thousand other tasks she should be handling. But she couldn’t bail with the governor on the ride. Not for anything short of an emergency. Gripping the pole tighter with one hand, she pulled her radio from her belt with the other. She needed to check to be sure things were good to go for the rest of the day’s events.
Pressing the button, she raised it close to her lips. “Bud, you read me?”
A moment passed before her second-in-command answered her call. “Thompson here.”
She turned away from the other adults on the ride and spoke quietly. “Hey, the big guy is having a good time down here. Looks like we’re going around again. Everything good up there?”
“We’re set up for the tasting. A few media types have wandered up here. I think they’re afraid they’ll miss out on the…” he paused for dramatic effect “…Cream-filled, Strawberry-dipped, Deep-fried, Chocolate-drizzled Funnel Cake on a Stick.”
“Holy cow,” she said with a chuckle.
“Nope, I think the cow would be the BBQ Bacon Pineapple Cheeseburger.”
Cassidy smiled. Bud Thompson’s affinity for fair food oddities was a running joke between them. “Well, you’ve got a good thirty minutes before they set up. Someone checking to be sure everything is under control in RV city?”
“Ten-four, boss.”
Smirking, she hooked her radio on her waistband. She cast a glance at the livestock barns as they spun past. The first rounds of judging had started the previous weekend. Many of the exhibitors camped within the fairgrounds so they could care for their animals while in competition. It wasn’t unusual for there to be territorial disputes between families, and while the temps they hired for security were enthusiastic, they lacked Bud’s experience in deescalating tense situations.
Resolved to enjoy this moment of peace, she closed her eyes and focused on the feel of the warm breeze on her face. She refused to think about what the constant swirl was doing to her once-cooperative hair.
Her phone buzzed again.
She reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out the device. Sure enough, missed messages from unknown numbers were stacking up. Sighing, she opened the app to the green bubble of an SMS message.
Do not stop the ride.
What the hell…She looked up and down the midway. Aside from the merry-go-round, only a handful of carnival rides were active.
A moment later, a second message appeared.
Do not get off the ride.
Her heart dropped into her stomach as she reread those chilling words, and her grip tightened as she stepped closer to the edge of the platform, scanning the area as she turned.
She scrolled back to the first of the messages.
Hang on tight. I have a surprise for you.
Her mind racing, she thumbed through the rest of the texts she’d put off reading. One from a food vendor looking for a lost delivery, another from the woman who was overseeing one of the arts and crafts competitions. Then there was one that made her breath catch in her throat.
I’ve planted explosive devices throughout the fairgrounds.
