“Do the State Police perform background checks for municipalities?” Cassidy’s brows drew down into a frown.
“No, but I doubt Baker knows how the process goes. I flash my badge, tell him I saw where he’s applied to the LRFD, and I want to talk to him about his discharge—both true—and see if I can get a read on him.” Cassidy caught a long gust of an exhale. “He worked in munitions, remember?”
“Right.” Something itched at the back of her mind. Something Cassidy had wanted to tell Emma when they’d discussed Baker before, but she couldn’t recall what it was.
“Okay. I’ll check back with you after and give you the rundown.”
“Sounds good.”
She looked up in time to see Jake step back, thrusting the bag and the disabled drone at Aronson, a mutinous set to his jaw. The beeps indicating the end of the call sounded in her ear as the angry colonel turned on his heel and marched back up the hill.
Cassidy couldn’t take her eyes off Jake. His back was ramrod-straight and his chin angled up in defiance, but still he looked…lost. Cassidy scooted to the edge of the bench, but she lost her line of vision. But by the time she came out the other side, he was heading straight for her.
When he stepped around the gate, she graced him with her widest smile. “Way to go, slugger.”
He shot her a glare. “Don’t you start, too.”
“Your boss didn’t look happy with you,” she commented as he and Max jumped onto the ride.
Jake grabbed the nearest pole, planting his feet wide and keeping his knees bent until he grew accustomed to the ride’s velocity. “He’s not exactly my boss, but no, he’s not happy with me.”
She gave Max a welcome pat, then peered up at the man looming over her. “My phone has been blowing up. Good thing I’m not answering it.”
He grimaced. “Sorry.”
She gestured to the bench across from her. “Sit. I can’t keep looking up.”
He dropped onto the seat. “Nauseous?”
“Crick in my neck.” She rolled her shoulders and the nylon straps of the backpack chafed against her bare skin. “Our cub reporter was streaming on YouTube and chatting live with one of the local anchors when you made your debut.”
“I hear it was a teenager.”
“A kid named Bryce,” she said with a nod. “You’re going to owe him a new drone.”
“He shouldn’t have been flying it over an active crime scene,” Jake responded through clenched teeth.
“Agreed, but this is the world we live in these days.” Then she grinned at him again. “The footage is awesome. I bet there are at least a dozen memes already.”
He quirked a single brow. “I was aiming for GIF status.”
“The way you took aim at the drone? I have no doubt you’ll be swinging through the interwebs like a guy bitten by a radioactive spider by the end of the night.”
“I always liked Superman better.”
“I know. You like the real-deal heroes, not the guys who have a bone to pick with the world.”
“I’m not hero enough to willingly strap a bomb onto my back,” he shot back.
“Nah, only antiheroes do things like run down a dock with a big smoking bomb.”
“Like in the old Batman TV show?” He closed his eyes in a long blink, and when he reopened them, she’d swear the light in those blue depths burned a little brighter. Either that, or she was hallucinating.
“Uh-huh.”
Jake leaned in, clasping his hands between his knees as he studied her intently. “How are things going?”
“Other than the dozens of media calls I’ll have to field because you decided to play home run derby with a drone?”
