Page 45 of Lethal Danger

Joan had paired off with the woman board member from her golf cart, and Pierce was deep in discussion with the man as they waited behind the ladies.

Joan helped the woman, a middle-aged lady who appeared nervous, into the enclosed car first and then entered herself.

“Base to S4,” the voice of Kerry, one of the dispatchers, sounded in Hawthorne’s earpiece as Pierce and the other guy boarded the next car. “Assistance needed with gaming dispute at Darts and Sharks.”

“S4, Roger. ETA five minutes.” Hawthorne spun away from the Skyride and started toward the booth he’d already had to stop at this morning and yesterday. Took forever to get anywhere on foot through these crowds. But another disgruntled customer who suspected the Darts and Sharks game was rigged didn’t seem like enough of an emergency to warrant breaking into a run. Fair games were always—

A cracking boom rocked the ground beneath his feet.

Fourteen

“Explosion at the Skyride. Near west midway building. We need medics and rescue services stat.” Hawthorne’s voice, strong but full of urgency, hit Jazz’s ear over coms, pulsing adrenaline and alarm through her veins.

Another explosion? This couldn’t be happening.

She whipped around the other direction to head for the midway Skyride building.

“Roger, S4.” Kerry responded promptly from Base. “Help is on the way. Describe the damage.”

“Approximately four casualties.” Hawthorne’s radio caught sickening background sounds. People yelling. Crying. “We need more security for crowd control.”

“Roger, S4.”

Jazz’s stomach twisted. “PT3 to Base, we’re on our way.” She picked up speed, Flash tugging at his leash to go all out. But there was no way in this crowd.

“Out of the way!” The shout she repeated every few seconds helped her and Flash reach jogging speed. Thank goodness they’d been at the History Center not far from the west end of the Skyride. She hadn’t heard an explosion, probably because she’d been inside. Could be a good sign it was a smaller one this time.

Though from the casualty report and the intensity in Hawthorne’s voice as he’d called it in, her gut knew not to be optimistic.

The Skyride ropes and dangling pods appeared above. Still. Not traveling like they always were when the fair was open.

A sinking sensation dropped to the pit of her belly.

“Clear the way.” Jazz and Flash pressed through people who stood and stared in the direction of the ride.

As Flash pulled her through the front of the crowd, her gaze landed on carnage.

One quarter of a pod dangled from the heavy rope above. Open like a cracked, carved-out bit of eggshell.

Jazz’s throat cinched as she lowered her gaze below the pod.

Pieces of metal scattered across the blacktop amid shards of glass and—

Was that…bodies?

Jazz took a step closer, barely feeling Flash’s tug on the leash as her eyes locked on the floral blouse on the pavement.

Aunt Joan’s blouse.

A gag lurched into her throat. Jazz put her hand to her mouth and moved closer.

An arm crossed in front of her, and something gripped her shoulder.

Her peripheral caught Hawthorne, standing beside her.

“Let me go.” She couldn’t look away from the blouse. The patches of red that hadn’t been there before.

His hold stayed firm, but his voice was gentle. “Her face was badly damaged. You won’t ever be able to unsee it if you look.”

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