Page 44 of Lethal Danger

He let go at the appropriate time, and she yanked her hand back, hopefully before he noticed she’d lingered way too long. He was going to junk the idea of basing a heroine on her real quick at this rate. Most socially awkward heroine ever.

“Well, we’d better get back to work.”

Work. Yes. She nodded and firmed her grip on Flash’s leash, not trusting her voice to sound anything but breathy at the moment if she spoke.

“I’ll see you at seven.”

“See you.” She managed to get that much out as she turned around and headed in the opposite direction from the one she’d intended to take. Before she’d been stopped by her favorite author and asked to be the star of his novels.

When Nev came on shift in an hour, Jazz was going to have her bestie pinch an arm as hard as she could. Jazz had to be dreaming.

Though if it were her dream, hunky Hawthorne Emerson probably would’ve asked her on a real date, too.

What if she thought he was asking her out on a date? Hawthorne cringed as he walked under the Skyride cars that hung suspended from cables above as they carried people from the midway all the way to the other side of the fairgrounds.

Didn’t seem like Jazz had thought it was a date, since she’d switched it from dinner to wall-climbing.

Hawthorne rolled his shoulders back. Right. Should be fine.

He’d been so excited when she’d said she would be the model for his heroine that he hadn’t thought through what it would sound like if he asked her to dinner.

But she seemed to get it.

He paused outside the midway Skyride building, scanning the people who lined up to board the Skyride and the surrounding crowds at neighboring rides. Hawthorne was beginning to understand why the Tri-City Fair was said to be the largest in the nation. The number of people, especially by two in the afternoon, was astounding. Like walking through Times Square in New York City.

The crowd divided slightly farther up the midway, as if something was being slowly inserted in the middle of a river and parting the waters.

He stepped to the side of the path and peered above the bobbing heads of visitors. Not the first time he appreciated being taller than average.

Three golf carts slowly drove through the crowds, coming Hawthorne’s direction. Was that Joan Cracklen in the front cart?

She came into sharper view as the cart meandered closer, driven by a teen wearing the bright blue T-shirt general staffers wore. The cart halted by the Skyride building, and Joan and three other people got off.

Joan’s husband Pierce was one of them, but Hawthorne didn’t recognize the other man and woman.

Maybe board members. Butch had warned them the Tri-City Fair board members were going to come for their annual tour this afternoon. Though Butch had said it was more of an inspection, so the security team should be on their toes.

Hawthorne walked closer in case he was needed. Couldn’t say he wanted to talk to either Joan or her husband after yesterday. He couldn’t believe the way Joan had jumped on her own niece, almost accusing Jazz for the bomb at the Giant Slide. At least her husband hadn’t seemed so bad. He’d tried to calm her down.

The second and third carts slowed by Joan and her companions as she held up a hand toward the other board members. “I’m going to take my traditional ride on our beloved Skyride now. It’s the best way to see the grounds. Feel free to join me if you’d like or continue looking around on your own.”

The occupants of the second golf cart must’ve decided to stay. Their driver pulled to the side as much as he could amid all the people and let them off.

The third cart continued on at a snail’s pace, crawling through the crowds.

Hawthorne eyed the long line out the door of the Skyride building. He couldn’t see Joan Cracklen or her politician husband standing in line for half an hour or more.

Sure enough, Joan led her party to the staff access door at the side of the building, circumventing the line.

Hawthorne smirked. Though he supposed she wasn’t getting paid to wait in line at a ride. A job had to have some perks.

“Hey, are you security?” A scratchy-voiced teen boy stopped next to Hawthorne.

“Yes. How can I help you?”

“I think I lost my phone.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Hawthorne told him the steps to report the phone missing at the Public Safety Center near the entrance. By the time the kid trudged off, Hawthorne saw Joan and the others were about to board the Skyride.

---