“Would you catch Colonel Aronson up?” Jake asked Furst, hooking a thumb toward the arena. “I’m betting Baker has a radio, so I don’t want to broadcast it. He’s seen Cassidy and knows she’s still on the case, so I think it’s safe to assume he’s around here somewhere.”
Furst nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Cassidy stood rooted to the spot as they watched the other man jog up the hill. “All day. Right there.”
“We knew he had eyes on you. And ears, I guess.”
Flexing her jaw, she drew a deep breath and set out for the midway. She didn’t have to break stride for Jake and Max to catch up to her easily.
“What are you planning to do?” Jake huffed.
“We’re going to draw him out.”
“We need a plan.”
“Plans haven’t gotten us anywhere,” she snapped. “We’ve been making up plans and pulling threads all day.” She stopped, throwing her arms out wide. “It’s all unraveled now, Jake. We don’t have time to think and plan. It’s going to get dark soon, and the minute it does, everything shifts even more to his advantage. We need to act. The sun is going down and so is this jerk.”
Without waiting for him to reply, she set out on a trajectory straight for the crumpled carousel. The wreckage of the Ferris wheel cast creepy, elongated shadows on the pavement. The glitter-and-gilt-painted horses beneath the crushed canopy were not only garish, but a little ghoulish as well.
“Looks like the set of a horror film,” she said.
“Don’t even,” Jake growled. “Cass, I can’t let you go off half-cocked like this—”
“You’re not letting me,” she shot back. “And I’m not half-cocked. I’m locked and loaded. I’m telling you I’m over this.” She made a chopping motion with her hand, then cast a wary glance at the carousel where she’d been held captive for hours. “It needs to stop. I’m getting off this ride.”
She looked back at him, but rather than glaring down at her with his familiar scowl set in stone, he was staring off at a spot south of the mangled amusements.
“What?”
Whirling to follow the line of his stare, she froze when she saw what had captured his attention. There, parked alongside the Mystery Maze Fun House, sat the golf cart they’d left outside the arena.
The one Troy Baker had likely commandeered.
She started in direction, but Jake caught her again. “No. Wait.”
“I’m not waiting,” she growled.
“Let Max check it first,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ve seen what he’s capable of doing,” he reminded her with a sweeping gesture toward the mass of mangled steel and wood. He spoke slowly and firmly. “Let Max do his job.”
“Fine,” she agreed. “But I’m sticking with you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He let his hand slide down to grasp hers, and together they made a beeline for the cart.
Stopping a few yards back, Jake let go of her hand only long enough to free Max from his lead. He reclaimed her hand again, and she squeezed his as they watched the dog circle the vehicle, giving it wide berth at first, then moving in for a closer inspection.
“He’s not finding anything.”
“How do you know?”
“He gives signals. If he was picking up anything, he would have pointed by now.”
“Pointed?”
“That big schnozz isn’t for show. Not only can he separate and identify hundreds of scents, but he also uses it as a traffic baton. He points, gestures with it, uses it to dig, if necessary. It’s a multipurpose tool.”
She watched as Max circled the cart again and then hopped up into the front seat to give it a good sniff. Eventually, he sat and turned to look in their direction, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
Jake tugged her forward. “Come on. It’s clear.”
