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 people 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.”