“It’s two, sir. We’ve located nine on the grounds, but we know where the tenth one is.” The colonel stared back at him, his expression blank. “It’s strapped to Cassidy Walker’s back.”
The blunt reminder killed the conversations taking place around them. The site commander’s jaw flexed, but he nodded once in acknowledgment. “Right.” Aronson turned to the other detection team. “We have two to locate. Go find them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aronson’s phone lit up. Jake saw the words “Governor’s Office” appear on the screen. The head honcho let loose with another soft-spoken expletive before tapping to accept the call.
“Yes, Governor,” he said, turning on his heel and marching back into the dim confines of the arena.
Jake noticed none of the other team leads followed the site commander inside. He caught Evan Furst’s eye and the shorter man shrugged. “Safer out here with the bombs.”
“I hear you.” With a smirk and smart salute, Jake clicked his tongue, and he and Max set off down the hill.
But rather than make a beeline for Cass and the carousel, Jake steered the dog to the long line of carnival games along the east side of the concourse. He moved slowly, giving Max enough lead to work his way methodically from one stall to the next while he did a visual inspection.
The bleat of a police warning siren told him they’d likely gathered an audience. The relentlesswhop-whop-whopof a helicopter’s rotor added to the already oppressive sense of foreboding. As they moved from a water pistol game to darts, he chanced a glance up at the chopper. Residents of larger cities might be used to the sound of traffic helicopters and the like, but in Little Rock, they usually only saw med flights transporting patients to one of the major hospitals or the occasional military squadron using the Air Force Base for a layover.
The temptation to pull out his phone and check the local news to see what was being said was strong, but he resisted. When Max lingered at the basketball free-throw game, Jake moved in for a closer look. Opening the plywood board that served as a gate, he and his partner stepped into the open space between the counter and the hoops. Jake slanted his head back to check out the enormous stuffed animals and cartoon characters suspended from the netting above the booth.
Turning in the slow circle, he stared up at the three hoops with their chipping plywood backboards. Judging from his days of playing pickup games at the rec center, Jake estimated the goals hung at least a foot higher than regulation would stipulate. No doubt the rims were a good inch smaller in diameter, too, he thought with a smirk.
A high-pitched whine of impatience drew his attention. He turned to find Max sitting directly in front of the counter where the barker would stand taunting people into taking a shot.
“What did you find, boy?”
Max gave a single bark and Jake’s eyebrows shot up. Whatever his partner had located was not explosive. Most likely herbal, Jake mused as he moseyed up to the counter. He certainly couldn’t fault Trooper Max for his diligence.
“Something stinky, huh?” He rummaged around on the shelf below the counter. His hand fell on a soft bundle of fabric. He pulled out a felt bag with the logo of an expensive brand of liquor embroidered on it. Max gave it another sniff and confirmed his suspicions with another single bark.
Jake smiled as he pulled open the drawstring bag and took a whiff himself. “Whew-wee,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face to disperse the skunklike odor. “Way to go, man,” he said with a chuckle, then gave the dog a congratulatory pat on the head.
But Max wasn’t letting him off easy. The stubborn cuss stayed put until Jake relented and reached into his pocket for a dog treat.
“You’re turning out to be quite the extortionist,” he commented as Max gobbled up the morsel.
Without any sign of remorse, the dog trotted toward the entrance to the booth, satisfied with his work.
Jake looked down at the bag in his hand, then tucked it back onto the shelf. He’d let one of the guys from the LRPD know where they’d found it. Hopefully, they’d be able to nab the owner with it in their possession.
“Hold up, buddy.” Jake stood his ground when Max reached the end of his tether, and the dog sat to wait for him to catch up.
The lingering scent of cooking oil and fried onions coming down the hill from the food court made his stomach grumble. He couldn’t remember if he’d taken more than two bites of the sandwich Cass shared with him.
They started out again but slowed as they approached the site where the duck pond game once stood. Max practically pressed his nose into the asphalt as Jake gave him a minute to explore the scents. He pressed his lips together when he caught sight of Cass sailing past them.
She sat facing forward on the bench, a phone pressed to her ear. How she’d managed to survive all these hours without emptying her stomach, he’d never know. But that was Cass.
Tough.
Stubborn.
Determined.
Amazing.
He watched as she swiped at her hair, catching as much as she could in one hand and holding it back from her face. He smiled when she dropped it almost immediately, needing to gesticulate as she spoke.
He stood rooted to the spot, letting Max sniff to his heart’s content while he drank in the sight of her. The neat blazer she wore was now rumpled and no doubt stained from her attempts to stay fed and hydrated. Though her golden-brown hair flew loose around her face, he remembered the way she’d struggled to pull a comb through it after riding with the car window rolled down. Jake had no doubt it would be a tangle of snarls when she got off the ride.
