Cassidy turned her head, searching out another spot at the center of the ride she could latch on to while Jake conferred with the other members of law enforcement. She wanted to be looped in. When Jake came back on, she’d insist on having access to their radio communications. There was no way she was sitting here being spoon-fed bits of buffed and polished information like she was some kind of victim to be protected.
But she wasn’t. She was stuck on this stupid ride all by herself. Synced up with no one.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Two minutes.”
In those brief minutes, she allowed herself to feel the weight of being both the victim and the probable target in this mess. She gave herself over to the thrumming headache at the base of her skull and acknowledged the churning in her gut. The urge to plug her ears with her fingers was nearly unbearable. She wasn’t sure what it would do for her—block out the wind, keep every intrusive thought she was having trapped inside, or maybe stop things up so she imploded before she exploded? Curling her fingers into fists, she clamped her jaw tight and began humming. At first, it was tuneless, something to drown out the panic. But within a minute, it morphed into a pop song. One she and Jake used to mockingly belt out as it played at full volume in his car. A song she secretly loved.
“Ma’am?”
She opened her eyes to see a slim man wearing cargo pants and a navy T-shirt proclaiming him to be a LRFD Trainee standing near the carousel. He wore the curved brim of his LRFD cap pulled over his eyes, but the lines fanning from them told her he was squinting against the bright sunlight.
“Yes?”
“Can I get you anything? Water? Food?”
He sounded hopeful. Eager to help. It reminded her of Trooper Rhodes, and her stomach curdled. “No. Thank you,” she added with weak smile. “I’m okay.”
“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be around,” he assured her.
“I appreciate you.” He turned to go, and she had a flash of Trooper Rhodes doing the exact same thing. “Hey,” she called to him. “What’s your name?”
When she came around again, she caught the tail end of a self-effacing shrug. “Everyone calls me T.B.”
She nodded and raised a hand as she spun toward the back again. “Thanks, T.B.”
Closing her eyes again, she ignored the ever-present rush of wind in her ears and concentrated on taking air in. After three cycles of box breathing, her heartbeat finally slowed, only to have it kick up when the platform shook beneath her.
“Cass?”
Her eye sprang open and the first thing she saw was the time displayed on her phone: 12:59. Then she focused on the pair of boots in her peripheral vision and the gold-brown paws beside them.
“I thought you were supposed to be falling back until after the top of the hour.” She practically spat the words at him, her heart hammering with fear and anticipation.
“We are.” Jake sat down beside her.
“If you haven’t noticed, one of the bombs is on this ride,” she reminded him tightly.
“I have a feeling that one is the midnight special. This is probably the safest place on the grounds.”
Cassidy recognized the stubborn streak in his tone, and she couldn’t say she was sad to hear it. The noble thing to do would be to send Jake and his gorgeous dog as far away from her as they could possibly get. But she wasn’t feeling noble. Or brave. Plus, she agreed. The bomb she carried was probably meant to be the finale in this pyrotechnics display.
After clearing the lump of emotion from her throat, she asked, “Where are we at with everything?”
“We disarmed the device at the pirate ship. They’ll start working on the cattle barn location once the animals are moved. Max and I are waiting to check the—”
An explosion at the south end of the grounds shattered the relative calm.
Cassidy stared at the smoke rising into the air, mentally calculating proximity and the possibilities of people working nearby.
“Arkansas Building.” She turned, needing to see him. What if she’d hallucinated his return? What if he and Max—
“What?” Jake tore his attention from the teams running past them toward the blast site.
She bobbed her head in the direction of the explosion but couldn’t take her eyes off him. Wetting parched lips, she spoke again. “I’m afraid that may have been the Arkansas Build—”
His radio squawked to life. It seemed like every user was trying to talk at once. Finally, Colonel Aronson’s baritone broke through the noise. “Arkansas Building. Let Fire through first.”
Jake started to rise, and for the first time, wobbled a bit. He hit the bench seat beside her hard, his eyes wide with realization.
