The air lodged in Jennifer’s throat, every muscle in her body freezing with it, mentally shrinking herself to pea-size in hopes of not being seen. Surely, she’d heard wrong. Gravel crunched on the ground, the man’s footsteps fading. The door opened to the building, and she prayed for Bobby, but it wasn’t him.
Jennifer shoved to her feet and forgot the bag and drink. She ran for the door and grabbed it before it shut, bursting inside.
***
BOBBY SLIPPED IN the back door of the ticket office and rounded the corner at the same moment Jennifer appeared in the lobby and shouted, “Stop the show! Please. Stop the show.”
Holy shit. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Charging forward, he was at the counter by the time she said, “A chute isn’t going to open. I know a chute isn’t going to open.”
The brunette behind the counter, the only person left in the office, shook her head. “I promise you, ma’am,” she said to Jennifer, “the chutes will open. Please. Go enjoy the show.”
“Jennifer!” Bobby called. “What’s going on?”
She rushed to meet him as he rounded the reception counter. “Bobby. Bobby, thank God. You have to convince them to stop the show.” She fumbled for her purse. “My phone. I’ll call the police. Bobby, I heard—”
He kissed her, not about to allow her to involve herself as a witness in any of this, not with a drug lord involved. “Tell me outside,” he whispered urgently against her lips, grabbing her hand.
“Sorry,” he said to the receptionist. “She’s afraid of skydiving. I shouldn’t have brought her.”
“Good grief,” the woman scoffed. “Usually the dramatics come from the ones jumping, not the ones watching.”
“Bobby!”
Adrenaline pumping, Bobby tugged her out the door. The minute he turned to face her, she shoved him. “Hey! Why did you do that?” Her fingers curled in his shirt. “I heard a man on the phone planning an accident for one of the parachuters. We have to do something.”
Bobby’s hands settled on her shoulders. He wanted her nowhere near any of this. “Who said what to whom?”
“A man on the phone,” Jennifer said. “He told someone named B.J. to cut one of the chutes. That Rocky needed a lesson.” She paused. “If they won’t stop those jumps, we have to call the police!”
“Listen to me,” he said. “There are things going on here I don’t want you associated with. You heard nothing. I did. I heard it, and I’ll deal with it. Understand?”
“But—”
“No buts,” he said. “Do as I say so I can go save a life and not worry about yours. Agreed?”
“I…” She hesitated. “Fine. I heard nothing.”
That worked. He wanted details, but he didn’t have time to demand more. Not when seconds could mean lives. He was already speaking to the receptionist before the door could shut behind him. “Do you have an employee named B.J.?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Sergeant Bobby Evans, Special Forces,” he said, leaning across the desk. “Do you have an employee named B.J.?”
A confounded look slid over the woman’s face. “Has B.J. done something wrong?”
Confirmation B.J. worked here. Enough validation to believe Jennifer had nailed the conversation she’d overheard. “Ground the planes. Call off the show.”
“Sergeant Evans,” came the dark bark of male command, “if you have questions about my operation, direct them to me.” It was Rocky. “What seems to be the problem?”
“B.J. is involved with planning an accident during the show. Ground the planes and ground them now.”
Rocky assessed him for all of two hard, icy seconds, then, “Call the planes now, Shari. Ground them.”
“But, Rocky—” she started to argue.
“Do it, Shari!” Rocky insisted, moving to stand behind her. “Do it now! I’m going to the hangar. Call me with confirmation.”
Jennifer burst through the door. “Bobby! The planes are lined up to taxi!”
“Shit!” Rocky and Bobby said at the same moment.
Rocky started running for the back door. Bobby turned to Jennifer. “Stay here.”
Shari grabbed the radio next to the desk. “Wheels on the ground,” she ordered. “I repeat, wheels remain on the ground. Respond with confirmation.”
In a matter of seconds, Bobby joined Rocky at a distant hangar, drawing up short when he heard the sound of gravel and dirt behind him. The two men drew to a halt.
“What the hell,” Rocky said, hands on his hips as he looked behind them.
Bobby turned to find Jennifer running toward him, and added his own curse to the mix.
Rushing to meet her, Bobby kicked himself for bringing her here today. Shackling Jennifer’s arm, he pulled her close, angry at her for not listening. Angry at himself for putting her in danger. “Damn it, woman. I told you—”
“Something is wrong with the radios,” she panted. “We can’t make contact, Bobby. Someone is going to jump out of that plane without a working parachute. Someone is going to die. We have to do something.”