“I told you it would be fun,” she purred into his lips. Up the car sailed—high above the pink cake pavilion and the aquamarine swimming pool next to the campground. Down it dropped, so close to the roof of the nearby Peanut Shack that her sandals almost clipped it.

Finally, the Ferris wheel downshifted and slowed. As the last to have boarded, she and Richard were only one level above the ground when the exchange of passengers began. They would be the last to get off. She snuggled into his side and glanced over her shoulder at the other riders. How many of these teenagers would rock their cars while they waited, making the whole wheel shake? She hated that feeling.

The unloading process was as bumpy as the ride had been smooth. Each partial revolution shook the wheel like a mini earthquake, lurching the car and slamming her tailbone into the unforgiving bench. Gripping the bar, she exhaled slowly and stared at her knuckles. Richard’s shoulder tensed against hers. All joy was gone, and renewed outrage radiated from him like heat from sun-baked asphalt.

With a grunt, he clamped his jaw, hunching and crossing his arms over his chest.

When the wheel rotated again, taking their car to the tippy top, the motor hacked, and the gears ground with a sickening screech.

Sniffing, Richard sat up and leaned over his side of the car. “Do you smell smoke?”

She shrugged one shoulder and peered down. Her belly lurched at the bird’s eye view.

The operator turned around his baseball cap. He jiggled the lever side to side and threw it again.

The wheel rotated just a few feet, shuddered, and ground to a halt.

The boy wrenched the lever again…and again.

The acrid odor of oily smoke was unmistakable, now. It rose from the machinery in a thick, white column.

Richard cupped his hands around his mouth. “Turn off the motor!” He lifted from the seat, and their car heaved.

She gripped the rail so hard her sweaty palms slipped, and she sucked in a tight breath. Dangling one hundred feet above the ground in a tippy, metal gondola, she struggled to put a sunny face on the situation. With every passing second, this amusement park was less and less amusing. Unless Richard had a jet pack in his pocket, they were trapped.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“I think it’s romantic.” Tessa ran the toe of her sandal over Richard’s sneaker, bumping knees. “We could do anything on this Ferris wheel, and no one would see.”

“In about five minutes, this seat won’t feel so romantic. Good thing I don’t have to make a shift.”

A burst of adolescent laughter pealed from below, and the whole structure shimmied.

“Idiot kids.” Scowling, he thrust out a hand. “Can I have my phone, please?”

Pressing her shoulder into his, she arched upward and withdrew the device.