Race Against Time Read online

  “You’ve got to check the furnace room anyway,” I said.

  “Of course we will,” Banks said. “We check out all bomb threats.” He looked pointedly at me. Clearly he thought my warning about a bomb wasn’t much different than the kid’s bomb threat. I had already forced the cops to make a second sweep of the school. Now they had evacuated the school again.

  “Get her out of here!” Officer Banks ordered.

  One of the cops stepped forward to take my arm, but the chief waved him off. “I’ll deal with her,” he said.

  “You do that,” said Banks. He pointed a finger at Jim. “And don’t waste our time like this again.”

  “The bomb has to be there,” I said. “You don’t understand what my visions are like. They aren’t just gut feelings. I’m there. I saw the bomb explode. I died.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” Banks asked me.

  “Let’s go, Claire,” the chief said quietly.

  “But the bomb has to be there!”

  “I said get her out of here!” Officer Banks yelled.

  Jim’s face was red as he dragged me out the door. I knew Banks and the other cops thought I was nuts. Worse, I knew I had embarrassed the fire chief in front of them.

  Even so, I was convinced the dream and vision I had seen was of the future. A bomb would go off in that school.

  EIGHT

  I waited outside with the teachers and kids while the cops once again checked the furnace room. After a time the chief left the school and walked toward me. His face was grim.

  “Did you find it?” I asked.

  “Claire, there is no bomb. We searched every inch of that furnace room.”

  “But when Tyler held my arm, I saw the bomb there. I saw it explode.”

  “I believe you saw something,” Jim said. “And I believe it’s very real to you. Your mother is always so sure about her visions. But when the cops check her tips, she’s almost always wrong. Claire, I’m worried for you. You’re a good reporter. You’ve built a name for yourself. Don’t throw it away with this nonsense.”

  He was right. I had already lost Officer Banks’s respect. That was a real problem, as I went to him for news stories about crimes in town. Still, I couldn’t let this go.

  “Please, Jim,” I begged. “Don’t let them send the kids back in until they find that bomb.”

  “Claire, they can’t shut down the school indefinitely. And you know they can’t shut down the school based on your hunch.”

  “My vision, my dream.”

  Jim crossed his arms as if I had made his point for him. Suddenly I saw things from his side. All Jim had to go on was my word. Why would he believe me?

  “Jim, my visions helped Matt find Amber Miller and helped you stop that arsonist. That’s got to count for something.”

  “Claire, let this go before you lose everything.”

  The chief turned on his heel and went back into the school. A few minutes later the cops allowed the students back in. By now it was almost lunchtime.

  I couldn’t let this go. I had lived through that explosion. I had died there. I wouldn’t let any of these kids lose their lives.

  As I watched the kids file back inside, I thought about the dream I’d had. In it, the janitor said he could help. Now I knew he was Tyler’s father. Obviously, he wouldn’t want his son responsible for a school bombing. If Tyler was the bomber in my vision, then maybe the janitor could help me stop him from setting off that bomb.

  I slipped into the school through the side door, avoiding Banks and the other cops. The hallway was empty, as the students were back in class at least until the noon bell rang. Ashley had said Tyler ate lunch with his dad in the furnace room. So the janitor was likely there now or would be soon. I made my way down the stairs to the basement.

  The door to the furnace room was open. The janitor sat at a small table, drinking coffee with his lunch kit open beside him. He looked up, surprised, when I knocked and then entered.

  “I’m Claire Abbott,” I said. “I’m a reporter from the Black Lake Times.” I held out my hand, but he refused to shake it.

  I took out my cell to add his name to my contact list. “And your name?”

  “Dean. But I’ve got nothing to say to you. I heard you were sniffing around, trying to blame my son for that bomb threat.”

  “I talked to a witness who overheard your son planning the threat.”

  “Well, your witness got it wrong. Yesterday afternoon Tyler heard Spider talking about posting a bomb threat on Twitter. Tyler confronted him, said it was a stupid thing to do. But he didn’t want to get Spider in trouble, so he didn’t say anything to me until after the last evacuation. I just told Principal Sloan about it.”

  “Maybe Tyler was covering his tracks by putting the blame on Spider.”

  “I know my son. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “All teens lie to their parents.”

  “Not Tyler. He and I are close. I’m the only family he’s got now. My wife died a year ago. Cancer. Her death hit him hard. That’s why I took this job, so I’m around for him.”

  “I understand you have lunch with him here every day.” I looked around the small, warm room. The furnace took up most of the space. There were no windows.

  “Tyler’s been keeping to himself since his mother died. I tried to get him to hang out with friends, but the school counselor said he needed time to grieve.”

  “So he has access to this furnace room. I imagine other kids don’t.”

  “I keep the room locked most of the time. Look, what are you getting at?”

  “I understand Tyler has taken an interest in model rockets.”

  Dean’s face lit up for a moment. “Yes! It’s the one thing he’s enjoyed since his mom’s death. I bought him several rockets. We launch them most weekends.”

  “So I’m right in thinking he does have all the materials to build a pipe bomb.”

  Dean’s face darkened again. “He would never do that.”

  “Tyler ran into the building after the school was evacuated,” I said. “He was the only kid who did that, like he knew there was no bomb. Yet.”

  Dean stood up and leaned over the table. “He ran down to this basement, looking for me. In the rush to get out, I left my cell here.” He pointed at the phone that sat on the table now. “Tyler panicked when he couldn’t reach me and thought I was still inside. He was scared there might really be a bomb. He was trying to save my life.”

  “He could have told you that story to cover up what he was really doing, setting a bomb.”

  “The cops searched the school. It’s clean. There is no bomb.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not yet?”

  I hesitated. “I see things. In visions,” I admitted, feeling foolish. “Things that have happened or will happen. I had a dream where I saw a bomb go off. More than that, I experienced a bomb going off.”

  The janitor studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “My wife dreamed she would die long before the doctor told her she had breast cancer. I tried to tell her it was just a dream, but she knew different.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “In this dream of yours,” Dean asked, “did you see Tyler setting that bomb?”

  “No, but I saw him run into the school minutes before it blew up. Also, he was holding my arm when I had the vision where I saw the bomb in this room. That makes me think Tyler may be the bomber. In the past, I’ve had visions when I held an object that belonged to the person involved.”

  Dean looked worried. “In your dream, did my son get out before the explosion?”

  I paused. “I don’t know. I hope so. I also saw you there.”

  “Me? You don’t think I’m the bomber.”

  “No,” I said. Then I thought about it. “You are happy in your job, right? No grudges against the school?”

  Dean’s face turned red with anger. “I would never hurt these kids.”

  “I’ve got to ask. You are one of the few pe
ople with a key to this furnace room. I saw that bomb go off here.”

  “In your dream.”

  “In my vision.” I held out both hands. “Look, you just said your own wife dreamed about the future. Isn’t it possible I did too?”

  “I suppose.”

  “In the dream, you said you could help me.”

  “Help you? How?”

  “Whether you want to believe it or not, your son is the most likely suspect at the moment. We have a witness who says he made that bomb threat. He eats lunch with you here. He could easily get his hands on the key to this room. All I’m asking is that you watch your son. Dean, I hope I’m wrong. But what if I’m right?”

  Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I did take the day shift at this school so I could keep tabs on him and be home every night.”

  “Then I know you can help me, just like you said in my dream.”

  A muffled voice echoed over the PA system on the floor above us. But we couldn’t make out what the principal said. My cell chirped, and I pulled it from my pocket. “Ah, hell,” I said after I read the text from my editor.

  “What is it?” Dean asked.

  “Some kid posted another bomb threat against this school on Twitter.”

  I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and the school principal entered the furnace room. She appeared surprised to see me down there. “You’ve got to leave the building,” she said. “We’re evacuating the school again.”

  I held up my phone. “We heard.”

  “The threat on that tweet said the bomb will go off as soon as lunch hour ends,” she said.

  The principal left, and I turned to Dean. “Has Tyler or anyone other than you had access to the furnace room after the cop and the sniffer dog were last here?”

  “I left the door open for a few minutes while I used the washroom.”

  I glanced at the time on my cell. “If the bomb threat is for real, we’re only got minutes to find the bomb and disarm it.”

  NINE

  The first place I looked was behind the furnace. I had seen the bomb there in my vision. But there was no bomb. Dean and I searched the furnace room from top to bottom. I looked at my watch again. “Time is just about up. If there really is a bomb, it could blow any moment.”

  “We should get the hell out of here,” Dean said.

  I nodded. I didn’t know what else to do. I followed Dean upstairs. He disappeared into a crowd of kids, looking for his son. I was surprised to see students were entering the halls from outside. Cop cars and fire trucks once again filled the school parking lot.

  I saw Fire Chief Wallis in the hall outside the principal’s office, talking to one of the cops. He was dressed in full firefighting gear. I pushed my way through the crowd of kids to reach him. “What’s going on?” I asked Jim. “Why aren’t you evacuating the kids?”

  “We did, briefly. But then one of the students told us who made the threat on Twitter. The kid was stupid enough to post the threat on a school computer and then brag about it to the others in the room. The cops tracked him down, and he confessed. It’s just another prank, Claire. There is no bomb.”

  “Was it that kid with the pierced lip? Spider?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “So Tyler may have been telling the truth,” I said. “Maybe Tyler didn’t make that first bomb threat this morning. Maybe it was Spider.” Spider had bumped into me just before I had that vision in the hall. Maybe then it was Spider, and not the janitor’s son, who had triggered my vision. “Where is Spider now?” I asked the chief.

  “Officer Banks is questioning him in the office. Principal Sloan has called his parents.”

  “I’ve got to talk to that kid. He may be the one who will set that bomb, if he hasn’t already.”

  “Claire, don’t!” Jim called, but I was already heading into Principal Sloan’s office.

  Officer Banks stood as I rushed in.

  “Claire, this is a private meeting,” Principal Sloan said.

  The chief caught up to me then. “I’m sorry,” he said to Officer Banks. “I tried to stop her.”

  “I need to talk to this kid,” I said.

  Banks blocked my way. “No, you don’t.”

  “Please, just let me touch him.”

  “Touch him?”

  If I could just touch his arm, I might have a vision of what he was up to. I pushed past the cop and reached for Spider’s arm. Even in that moment I knew what I must look like—a crazy woman lunging at this kid. Officer Banks grabbed my arm to stop me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked me.

  “I need to know if he’s the one who planted the bomb.”

  “No one accused him of making a bomb,” said Principal Sloan. “He admitted to posting the bomb threat on Twitter. That’s all.”

  “I didn’t make a bomb,” Spider said. “It was just a joke, you know? The last bomb threat wasted the morning. I wanted the afternoon off too.”

  “A bomb threat is deadly serious,” Officer Banks said. “What if there was a real emergency—a fire or an accident—and we were stuck here making sure there was no bomb? Lives could be lost.” He eyed me. “And you would be responsible.”

  I hung my head, feeling the heat of shame wash over me. Officer Banks clearly thought I was as reckless as this kid.

  “Please wait outside,” he said. As I stepped into the hall, he talked to both the principal and Fire Chief Wallis. I strained to hear what they were saying but couldn’t.

  Jim finally left the office and approached me. “Let’s go,” he said. He held my arm a little too hard as he pulled me through the crowd of kids toward the front entrance.

  “Jim, what’s going on?” I asked.

  “Banks advised the admin to ban you from the school, and they have.”

  “Principal Sloan banned me?”

  “You aren’t allowed to step foot on school property.”

  “But I’m a reporter. I have to come up here when there’s a school event. It’s my job.”

  “I’m sorry, Claire. You’re not allowed to be here.”

  “For how long?”

  The chief led me outside. “Indefinitely,” he said. “Given how you behaved today, I’m not sure they’ll ever let you back.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “Claire, you brought this on yourself.”

  “Jim, please, you’ve got to believe me. Someone will set a bomb in this school. Spider may have already. Unless we do something, this school will explode. All these students could die.”

  Jim led me to my car. “I did believe you, Claire. I stuck my neck out to protect you. Now I’m a laughingstock. You’ve not only ruined your own reputation. You’ve hurt mine too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jim.”

  “Go home,” the chief said. Then he headed back into the school.

  Sitting around home was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed to bury myself in my work. I got in my car and drove to the newspaper office. I had lost the respect of both Fire Chief Wallis and Officer Banks. I knew I had lost my good name. At least, I thought, I still had my job.

  TEN

  I walked into the newspaper office feeling exhausted and defeated. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” my editor said.

  I sat at my desk. “I’m sorry, Carol. I should have called.”

  “Or at least replied to my texts. I’ve got a paper to get out, you know.”

  “I’ve been working on this case.”

  “This case? Don’t you mean a news story? Who do you think you are? A cop?”

  I shook my head. “No, of course not. I was working on that bomb-threat story. Carol, I really do think a bomber intends to blow up that school.”

  “Oh, I know all about it. I just got calls from both Officer Banks and the high-school principal.”

  “Crap.” I held my head in both hands. I should have known Banks would phone Carol.

  “They told me you are banned from the school,” Caro
l said. “And not just the high school, but from every school in the district.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes. Claire, we run a small-town weekly. Big stories are few and far between. Most weeks we fill this paper with stories about community events, school plays and art shows. How are you going to do your job when you can’t even step on school grounds?” She walked over and sat on my desk. “And how do you expect to get a story from the cops when they won’t talk to you?”

  “You’re firing me?”

  “I’m suspending you until this blows over.”

  I paused, taking in the anger on her face. “But you don’t plan to hire me back, do you?”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “How are you going to fill the paper?”

  “I have that intern coming, that co-op student. She can fill in for the moment.”

  “She wasn’t due to start work until the end of April.”

  “I asked if she could start early, and she made arrangements. She’ll be here in the morning.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “Pack up the things in your desk. I expect you to be out of here within the hour.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Claire, I don’t care how compelling your dreams and visions are. You can’t go around claiming the school will blow up just because you dreamed it.”

  “But I know I’m right.”

  “Listen to yourself. You sound paranoid, delusional.”

  I nodded. “Crazy. I know.”

  Carol put a hand on my arm. “Claire, you’re a good reporter. At least, you are when you aren’t running around trying to solve crimes. Take some time to rest, clear your head.” She strode back to her desk. “And for god’s sake, get some help.”

  “I don’t need a shrink.”

  “I think you do. A session with a counselor would do you a world of good.”

  I didn’t reply. I couldn’t convince her I was right about the bomber. I was even beginning to doubt myself. What proof did I have that the school would really explode? I had only a dream and a vision and this feeling of panic searing my gut.

  I didn’t need an hour to pack my things. My files filled only one box. Most of my work was on my laptop. I packed the computer in my camera bag and slung it over my shoulder. Then I picked up the box and faced Carol.