Page 47 of Lethal Danger

“Think it’ll hold?” Hawthorne’s question seemed to come from somewhere far away.

“What?”

“The ride.” Hawthorne pointed up at the ropes that stretched out from the building to carry the pods.

“Oh.” Jazz blinked away the floral print that seemed to be burned in her mind. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket, tapped to open the camera function, and held it up. She zoomed in on the ropes above the remnants of the exploded pod.

The ropes were darkened, especially the one that had held the destroyed pod, but she couldn’t see any signs of fraying. The rope used for the Skyride was an incredibly resilient and strong blend of coils surrounding an inner cable. “I think it will. Let’s verify with the operator.” She glanced toward the building. Then she needed to call Bris. Pronto.

This couldn’t have been a bomb. Not if Bristol and Toby had checked everything.

The fair was supposed to be safe again.

And it couldn’t be PK-9’s fault, even though Aunt Joan had wanted to blame them yesterday.

The straws she tried to grasp eluded her hold, refusing to distract her from the reality she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t matter what was supposed to be.

The fair wasn’t safe.

And Aunt Joan was dead.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

Jazz glanced at Hawthorne as she finished securing her harness to the auto-belay system. “Having doubts about my climbing skills, even after I beat you down from the Ferris wheel?” Her teasing grin made him wonder if he shouldn’t have brought up the sad topic. She seemed to be doing well after the day’s events. Surprisingly well.

“I just meant, with everything that happened today, I would understand if you wanted to reschedule this.”

“Oh.” She frowned, her gaze dropping to the blue floor of the Just Climb It facility.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up if you were trying to forget for a while.”

She looked up again, her mouth lifting slightly at the corners. “I guess I was. Activity is the way I process things. Work off steam.” She tested her harness with a tug as she glanced at the forty-plus foot wall. “I’d come alone after a day like today anyway.”

“Makes sense.” And told Hawthorne a lot about the woman who was going to star in his novels. A woman of action. Processing through activities that would make most people tired just thinking about them made for a fascinating character. “Race you to the top?” He grinned at her.

“You’re on.” She jumped onto the wall, skipping the first four holds in a move that told him he might be in trouble.

After probably the fastest climb of his life, he lowered from the wall to stand beside the woman who kept impressing him. “Okay, where did you learn to climb like that?”

“My dad started me on it.” She smiled, not even sounding winded. She unclipped and walked across the room to the bench where they’d left their belongings. “He wanted a boy, so he taught me everything he would’ve taught the son he never had.”

That explained a lot. But the edge to her tone said she wasn’t necessarily happy about that bit of her history. “Including knife-throwing?” He tried to infuse a lighthearted note into the moment.

She narrowed her eyes at him in an overdone way that made him suspect she was teasing. “What in the world are you talking about?” She grabbed a dark green water thermos from the outer pocket of her duffel bag and took a swig.

“Hey, I spotted the extra weapon you carry. Or is that just a special decoration for the fair?”

She laughed, the musical tone that traveled the scale. “Girls love their accessories, you know.”

“Uh-huh.” He returned her grin as he gave her a quick scan. “You’re not packing now, are you?”

“Shh.” She stepped closer as she pressed her finger to her lips, drawing his attention to how full they were. “You’ll never know. Unless someone gives me cause to use it.”

“Ah.” His gaze drifted up from her mouth to her twinkling emerald eyes. “So you do have knife-throwing skills.”

“A lady never tells.” Her smile sparkled.

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