“And?”
“He said his site supervisor should be on the premises. I asked about controlling the ride and he tells me there’s a sort of command center parked somewhere over in RV parking. Says they can do test runs remotely, troubleshoot some of the newer rides, sort of thing. The site supervisor stays there for the duration.”
“Do you have eyes on the trailer?”
“Not yet.” Cassidy didn’t have to see his face to hear his grimace. Bud liked to be the man with the answers. “Whalen told me their company vehicle had to go in the shop. Some issues with hydraulics. Anyway, they rented one for the duration.”
Cassidy pursed her lips as she took this information in. “I take it this rental RV has no markings identifying it as the Continental Attractions command center,” she said dryly.
“You are correct.”
They fell silent for a moment.
Then a new voice broke in. “Did they rent it here or out of state?” Jake asked.
Cassidy sucked in a surprised breath. She’d forgotten Jake had one of their radios clipped to his belt. “O-oh. Good question.” When she came around front again, she pointed to Bud and then spoke into the radio. “Most of the vehicles in RV parking should have Arkansas plates.”
“I’ll check to see if it’s in-state or not and let your commander know,” Bud promised. “But here’s what we found funny… Whalen said he called the site manager earlier and the guy didn’t report any issues. Certainly didn’t say anything about bombs or explosions.”
A cough of disbelief escaped her. “Are you kidding me?” She gaped exaggeratedly at Bud the next time she passed.
“Nope,” Bud insisted.
“You have got to be joking,” Cassidy said.
There was a short blip of static before Jake broke in again. “What’s the site supervisor for the amusement company’s name?”
“Hang on.” Bud pulled his notebook from his shirt pocket. When she swung past again, she saw him flipping through the pages. “I know I wrote it down,” he mumbled. When she flew past him a second time, he was looking up again. “Got it. His name is Troy.”
Cassidy repeated the name “Troy” in a whisper. Alarm bells clanged in her head. When Bud came into view again, she clicked the button and demanded, “Is that the guy’s first name or last?”
“Oh, sorry,” Bud said, juggling his radio and the notebook. “Musta cut out on last one. Troy is his first name. Full name on his employment record is Troy S. Baker.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Jake, did you hear—”
He cut her off. “I’m on my way.”
When they finished exchanging information with Agent Parker’s superior, Colonel Aronson had ordered him to take Max down to inspect the arcade games inside the kiddie section of the midway. But the situation was rapidly unfolding, so Jake made the decision to take a detour.
When he approached the carousel, he found Bud Thompson standing with both feet planted on the ground, his radio clutched in his hand. Gesturing to the blur of color and flash, he asked, “You don’t want to ride?”
“I don’t have enough spring in my step to be jumping up there at this velocity. I don’t even want to think about jumping down,” he added.
“I will admit they made it more of a challenge,” Jake conceded. “It’s easier if you grab a pole and haul up.”
“You want to see me getting dragged around like a rag doll,” Bud said with a huff.
Jake smiled. “Remind me to send you the GIF of the little girl clinging to the carousel.”
Bud cast him a sidelong glare. “I have no idea what you said, but I’m gonna go with ‘no, thank you.’”
“If you two are done shooting the breeze,” Cass shouted on her next pass.
Jake raised a hand in acknowledgment, then turned to face the older man. “Will you take the RV information to Colonel Aronson? I want to speak to Cassidy about what we’ve learned, but…” He pulled a face. “I’m supposed to be working the north end of the arcade games.”
Bud gave a huff of a laugh and nodded as he stepped back. “You need a decoy.”
