Page 22 of Lethal Danger

Jazz homed in on the source of the cry.

A little girl, lying on the grass next to the partially collapsed slide.

Jazz and Flash hurried to the child. “Are you okay, honey?”

Brown hair stuck to tears on the girl’s cheeks as she sat up and aimed big eyes at Jazz. “I want my mommy.”

“Okay. We’ll find her. How about we see if you’re hurt?”

“Doggy?” The girl locked her gaze on Flash.

Perfect. “Yes.” Jazz smiled. “He’s a very nice doggy. Would you like to pet him?”

“Uh-huh.”

Flash followed Jazz’s cue he was free to visit and approached the girl, gently ducking his head and smelling her face as she put her small hands on his ears.

Jazz carefully palpated the girl’s arms and legs, bare beneath her short-sleeved T-shirt and shorts. Some scratches but nothing broken. And no pain response. It would take a real EMT to be sure.

“Hayley!” A woman rushed toward them with her arms outstretched, tears on her cheeks.

“Mommy!” Hayley kept her hand on Flash as the woman reached them.

The mother engulfed Hayley in a gentle hug. “Are you hurt, sweetie?” She pulled back and looked at Jazz.

“I don’t think so. Other than some scratches. But—”

Movement caught Jazz’s eye. Dark curls, red T-shirt, and a rottweiler mix alongside.

Relief relaxed Jazz’s insides as Nevaeh and Alvarez made their way to her.

“Here’s an EMT. She’ll be able to tell you for sure.” Jazz stood, returning Nevaeh’s grim nod as she gave her friend room to work.

Jazz walked along the tilted slide to check the other people on the grass. Most of them were on their feet and moving away. A good sign they weren’t badly injured.

Marisa DeShae, the onsite nurse, squatted by a victim. Judging from where he or she lay on the grass closer toward the upper half of the slide, the person may have fallen forty feet.

“Everything okay here?” Jazz and Flash paused behind Marisa.

She glanced up from splinting the leg of a boy who looked to be about sixteen. “A fracture, but otherwise, we’re fine.” She gave a reassuring smile to the guy who grimaced but didn’t make a sound. She angled her head to catch Jazz’s gaze again. “I canvased the others. One adult with bruised ribs. This leg appears to be the severest injury.”

Jazz nodded, not wanting to say more in front of the boy. Never could tell who would sue these days.

A fraction of the tension clenching Jazz’s muscles eased as she stepped away, lifting her gaze to the slide. Lucky the injuries weren’t worse. The whole side tilted dramatically. Good thing there were short walls along both edges or more people probably would’ve been thrown off. And it was fortunate this had happened early in the day. There could have been more visitors going down at one time in the afternoon or evening. And if the explosion had happened on the other side, where visitors lined the staircase, she didn’t want to guess the number of casualties they’d have.

At least she and Hawthorne had gotten there quickly. Where was Hawthorne? She scanned the area.

Butch Klika, other security guards, and the onsite cops had arrived and started guiding people off the grass onto the main path.

But no tall, distinctively attractive guy with sandy blond hair.

Weird. Jazz had assumed he would help the injured like she did when they’d arrived on scene. Yesterday proved he wasn’t squeamish or cowardly. So where had he gone?

Suspicion tingled at the back of her neck. Two catastrophic accidents in two days. And Hawthorne had been first on scene for both.

Eight

Metal plates. A bit of shredded leather, like remnants of a strap.

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