Page 24 of Karma

“Don’t you have something better to do?” he muttered.

Cara laughed. “Go talk to your little fan. But when you’re finished, get your ass in gear and find Liza before that new guy weasels his way in.”

Cara patted him on the back and walked off, leaving Dare with his stomach twisting with jealousy. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to deal with the precocious child he remembered from his last DARE session.

He turned to the ten-year-old girl, whose mother had joined her, and together, they kept him talking for a good ten minutes. Dare knew he answered their questions, but he couldn’t remember the details of their discussion. He was too focused on Liza and the guy who’d put his hand on her back and led her away.

When he was finally alone, Dare drew a deep breath and headed in the direction he’d seen Liza last. Luckily, she’d gone toward the dunking booth. If Dare couldn’t find her, he at least planned to get a few good shots in and sink Sam.

He arrived to find a huge crowd and lots of cheering going on. Rarely did this booth draw such a huge crowd, no matter which officer held the honors of sitting in the dunk tank. An uneasy feeling settled in Dare’s gut as he pushed his way through the many people blocking his view.

“Throw, throw, throw, throw!” The words circled around the crowd.

Dare finally stepped into the open. He glanced from Sam in the booth to the current player and muttered a curse. The last thing this family-oriented fair needed was Brian McKnight causing trouble and making a scene. And though Sam was in the tank, kids from the youth center were running the booth, and they weren’t equipped to handle this.

Dare had to distract McKnight and give someone else a shot at Sam before things got out of hand. He took a step forward, but someone beat him to it.

Liza called out her brother’s name, the distraught look on her face pushing all sorts of emotional buttons Dare hadn’t known he possessed.

Brian turned her way, his glassy gaze focusing on his sister. “Liza Lou! What are you doing here?” he slurred.

“I think you’ve been at this long enough. Let’s go get a soda or something.”

“It’s still my turn,” Brian said, winding his arm and tossing the ball at the target that would release Sam into the tank. Brian’s pitch missed by a mile. They’d be lucky if he didn’t hit someone with his wild throws.

Dare was torn between stepping in and possibly embarrassing Liza with his presence and letting things play out. A glance at the booth told him Sam sat in a relaxed pose, arms folded across his chest, obviously unconcerned about a possible dunking since McKnight’s aim was way off.

And unlike when the high school kids tossed balls at him, Sam didn’t yell back any taunts or reply to the smart-ass remarks with good humor. He knew better than to engage a drunk.

“Brian, please,” Liza said once more.

Dare saw the pointing and heard the murmurs of people around him. They were talking about the McKnights and the scene they were making.

Brian wasn’t listening to his sister, his sole focus on Sam. “I wouldn’t look so cocky if I were you,” the drunk man called to Sam. “You’re going down, Officer Asshole!”

Liza visibly winced at his language, knowing as Dare did that they were surrounded by kids and their parents, some of whom started to drag their children away. Others chose to stay and watch the spectacle.

Someone had to take control. “McKnight!” Dare stepped forward. “Why don’t you move it along and give one of the kids a chance?”

Hearing his voice, Liza turned and met his gaze. Where he’d been hoping she’d be happy to see him, now pure mortification settled over her pretty features, and her cheeks burned a bright shade of red.

“Brian, let’s go!” she said, her jaw clenched in anger.

“Listen to your sister,” Dare suggested.

Brian shook his head. “I paid for this last ball, and I’m going to take my shot.” He stumbled but righted himself before he fell.

Dare needed to get that ball away from McKnight before his next throw hurt someone badly. “Hand it over,” Dare ordered, using the tone he would use for “Drop your weapon.”

“No damned cop’s going to tell me I don’t have the right to get what I paid for,” Brian spat. Brian wound his arm, ready to pitch.

Dare bolted forward, intending to grab him, but Liza was closer. She reached for Brian at the same time her brother pitched his arm forward, his fist and the ball cracking against her head with a solid thud.

The sound echoed in Dare’s ear as she fell to the ground. He immediately dropped to his knees at Liza’s prone body.

Another cop grabbed Brian, who seemed unaware that he’d clocked his sister.

“Okay, everyone, show’s over,” Cara said.