CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Jake reluctantly finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. The shower had fogged over the mirror. He wiped it down with a washcloth and brushed his teeth. Amazing how the simple things could feel incredible. Like brushing his teeth after a night in jail.

If only Amanda hadn’t freaked out, he might have enjoyed a few other sensations. She’d leapt from the shower like a cat avoiding water.

What had that been about? He combed his hair, got dressed. Although he hated to admit it, he respected her drive to stay focused and get their work done. At the same time, he wished she’d have let things progress in the shower. Maybe they could have their raincheck tonight. Work, then play.

Yes. Better.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, an already-groomed Amanda stood by the window, taking in the view Zephyr Land in the distance.

“Why don’t we get something to eat downstairs, then go to the park?” he asked. “Stay most of the day?”

She turned, offering a kind smile. “Sounds good.”

He walked closer to her and brushed her lips with his in a quick kiss. “Don’t forget—raincheck comes due tonight.”

“If we aren’t in jail again,” Amanda said.

“Trust me. I’m going to keep our permission slip with me at all times from now on.”

“If it happens again, you can always use your lock-picking talents to escape the cuffs.”

He shrugged. “Doubt the cops would appreciate my little hobby.”

“Maybe not, but I think it’s a handy trick.”

“Either way, we’ll be prepared next time.”

Amanda sighed. “Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”

“Amen to that.” He winked at her, grabbed their things, and went downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

Before starting the car, Jake double-checked his backpack. Good. The permission letter from the law office, and proof they had a right to be in Zephyr Land, was in the side pocket. Not that he anticipated any further complications from the sheriff, but better safe than sorry.

He started the ignition and drove them the short distance to Zephyr Land and parked. Between last night’s incarceration and this morning’s frustration with Amanda, he needed to focus on work.

Reaching for his backpack, he and Amanda exited the car and went through the gate. He half expected some pudgy-bellied cop to come along and arrest them again, but the only sound came from tree frogs chirping in the distance.

“Can I borrow your camera? I need to get some shots of the premium bolt heads on the cars. If you don’t need it.”

“I’m good,” she said. “For any shots I might need, I’ll get them with my cell and use my camera later. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

She looked at the bright-blue sky blanketing Zephyr Land. “I’m sure.”

“Thanks.” He took the camera bag and walked her to the carousel tent.

“I’m fine if you want to go to the coaster,” she said.

Not after last night. He needed to make sure they were safe at all times. “A quick glance inside the tent, then I’ll go.”

She squeezed his hand. “You can’t take the gentleman out of the guy.”

“No ma’am,” he said with a smile.

They entered the tent. He pulled back the flaps to let air into the humid pocket and did a quick walk around the carousel. “Everything looks good.”

“Told ya. I’ll come find you at the roller coaster when I’m done,” she said. “Good luck with your findings.”

“You too.”

Jake wandered over to the coaster car area. Today, he would find out why the coaster derailed. Lack of premium bolts had been ruled out. Bello and Toale had, whatever the original intention, made good on the safety equipment.

Now it was his job to determine what else could’ve been the cause.

He went car by car. Some were too mangled to see anything, just a reminder of the wreckage that had shut down Zephyr Land. The riding wheels, guide wheels, all good. Premium bolts, correctly installed safety wire, nothing out of place.

The key to the derailment had to be the upstop wheels, the bottom ones that held the train on the track. First car, upstop wheels damaged. Second car, upstop wheels bent to hell. He went through each one until he noticed the bolts on the second-to-last car hadn’t been torn up.

Finally.

When he looked at the underside of the car, something was amiss. The bolts seemed to be installed correctly, but why was the safety wire rusted? The wire appeared to be situated in the right pattern and wound so it pulled the bolts tighter. The twists where the ends of the wires were attached looked textbook perfect.

The safety wire for the upstop wheels should have the same appearance as for the other wheels—a dull silver color. Normal discoloration for stainless steel after being abandoned for ten years.

Instead, on the most crucial roller coaster wheels, the safety wire had rusted and had a dingy color. There was only one explanation: the safety wire for these wheels wasn’t made from stainless steel. This wire had been regular steel, which would’ve rusted over a decade in the humid salt air of the Gulf Coast.

Corruption or cheapness on the part of Bello and Toale, the designers? Doubtful. Why use stainless steel on two sets of wheel types, but not on the upstop ones? No, this was something else.

These wheels had been tampered with.

Bello and Toale would’ve known that stainless steel safety wire could only be purchased from aircraft maintenance suppliers. Since 9/11, the safety wire had been on a list of materials whose sales were recorded. Basic mechanic’s wire, available at any hardware store, looked the same as stainless steel wire, at least for the first several months. Probably appeared that way for the insurance inspectors after the derailment.

But here, now? Ten years after the fact? The crappy wire would’ve rusted, just like the sight Jake was looking directly at.

Time to get some photos. When he looked through the viewfinder of the camera and under the magnification of the lens, he could see that parts of the hex head of the bolts had scratches from being tightened. They didn’t look any different from any of other bolt heads, but even overtightening would not damage the bolt heads. He would have to look deeper.

He snapped pictures of one of the bolts from every angle he could think of, to show exactly how he had found it. Then he took a pair of wire cutters from his backpack supplies and carefully cut the ersatz safety wire. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the right size socket to remove the bolt, but he had a decent-sized pair of Channellock pliers that would do the trick.

Worth a try. If his effort didn’t succeed, he could purchase the right wrench at the Abandon hardware store later. Gripping the bolt head with the pliers, he placed one foot against the car for leverage. Then pulled with all his might.

He immediately landed on his ass, several feet away from the roller coaster car. The huge resistance he’d expected never came, leaving him in violation of several of Newton’s laws. Fabulous. His reward for hard work? A bruised backside.

He looked at the partial bolt that had landed next to him. The head and part of the shank were intact, but the threaded part was apparently still attached to the coaster. As he looked at the end of the broken bolt, he could see the telltale markings of a bolt that has been severely overtightened. Most of the broken end of the bolt was slightly rusted, but a small portion of the end was dull metallic colored. The bolt had been broken almost in two, leaving only that small portion of the bolt to carry the whole load. For a bolt of this size and grade to have broken like this, it would have to have been torqued way past the specification.

No way could this have been an accident or mistake. This was sabotage. And murder.

Damn. He’d solved what happened. Only two questions remained. Why? And who?

Had the bolts been overtorqued from the beginning? During construction? Some jerk during the assembly thinking it would be a fun joke? No. And why was proper safety wire not used just on the bolts for the upstop wheels? The safety inspection would have failed. Unless the inspector accepted a bribe, but why would the company pay to risk an accident?

Then again, according to the lawsuit, the company had planned to use subpar equipment and Randall had become the whistle-blower. Then they’d ruined him for doing so.

Or had someone overtorqued by accident? No way, based on even a cursory examination of the broken bolt Jake had found. Any engineer worth his salt would’ve known the correct torque for this size bolt and would never have specified such overtightening.

Especially Randall Kern…

Amanda thought Randall was guilty from minute one, but she relied on emotion and intuition. Unstable resources.

Jake shook off the thought. No. The father of engineering couldn’t have anything to do with the derailment that killed thirty-plus people. Besides, Randall had been fired by the time the bolts went onto the cars. By logic, the overtorqueing had been done after the safety inspection, before the first and fatal ride.

Amanda must be wrong. Randall Kern couldn’t have done this.

Which left the burning question: Who did?

For his position paper, once he had the cause for the derailment, he didn’t need to know who’d been responsible. Then again, he and Amanda had until the weekend to remain in Abandon. Maybe he could find bonus material for his conclusions while Amanda finished up her carousel analysis.

That work promotion was his. He could feel it.