She knew in an instant what had caused the calm, cool, collected man she’d encountered earlier in the day to grab a long wooden pole and go Luke Skywalker on the drone. He’d believed he was bringing down the camera their perpetrator was using to watch them. Watchher.
And if his assumption had been correct, she may have had the chance to ditch the backpack and jump off this wild ride.
But he’d been wrong.
The drone was piloted by a seventeen-year-old boy named Bryce, who lived a few blocks away from the fairgrounds and wanted to get a better look at whatever was causing the commotion. When he’d seen the wreckage left by some of the explosions, Bryce did what any seventeen-year-old in possession of some cool footage would do—he live-streamed the drone’s flight.
The local news affiliates had picked up the stream and were showing it live on the air.
That meant a good portion of the Central Arkansas viewing audience got to see a State Trooper in full tactical gear taking a grand-slam-worthy swing at a teenager’s toy.
Biting her lip, Cassidy pressed Play on the video again. There was Jake, looking handsome and dead serious, swinging a ridiculous pole like he was going after a piñata.
Though she had to admit his final swing showed much better form. It was high, for sure, but the follow-through was major-league. She paused the video at the spot where his strong arms coiled around to his shoulder and his long legs twisted around each other.
Gorgeous form.
Pressing her mouth into a flat line, she calculated the short time it would take for Jake Donovan to transform from hapless cop flailing at a drone to internet hunk intent on saving the day. A wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she envisioned his baffled reaction to viral attention. But it disappeared the moment she saw Jake turn in her direction. His brow was lowered, his expression thunderous. He wasn’t the sort of man who’d readily take criticism for doing what he thought was right.
This flash of stubborn insubordination appealed to her more than she wanted to admit.
Her personal phone rang and she winced. Glancing down, she saw she had a number of messages from unknown callers piled up in her voicemail and text app. Heaven knew how many more calls she’d miss. These days, with witnesses eager to play reporter and wielding their own camera crews, it was impossible to outpace the press.
She was thankful for the privacy setting that sent unknown callers to voicemail. Her new phone rang and she saw Emma Parker’s name flash on the screen.
“Walker here,” she said, her gaze straying to the two men caught up in heated conversation.
“You get my message?” Emma asked without preamble.
“I did. Jake’s getting chewed out as we speak.”
“Poor guy. I’d have done the same thing,” the special agent said.
“Any luck with the files?” Cassidy asked, purposefully turning away from Jake’s dressing-down.
“I think Baker is our guy,” Cassidy said.
The hum on the other end told her Emma had been thinking along the same lines, but might not be entirely convinced. “Based on? All we have is a lot of conjecture and a strong hunch.”
Cassidy laughed. “Oh, well, it’s a lot then. Book him.”
“Ha. If I could be a jury of one, I would. I am on my way over to his house to feel him out, though.”
Cassidy’s brows shot up. “He still lives here?”
She didn’t bother to mask the surprise in her tone. Most people assigned to the base were transplants. Military personnel who went wherever they were assigned. They were deployed when necessary, but unless they had some tie to Arkansas outside of their time in the service, they usually moved on.
“Is he an Arkansan?”
“He was born in California, but it looks like the family moved to Texarkana when he was young.”
“I wonder why he stayed after being discharged.”
“Married a woman from Jacksonville not long after he got out. Everything I find points to a residence in Southwest Little Rock.”
“And you’re heading over there yourself? What are you going to do, ring the doorbell and ask him if he’s been setting off bombs at the fairgrounds?”
“Heck of an icebreaker,” Emma said with a chuckle. “No, I found out he applied to join the Little Rock Fire Department a couple times. Looks like he didn’t make the cut. But that doesn’t mean I can’t follow up as part of a, uh, background check.”
