Chapter 6
Iscrambled to the kitchen to retrieve my phone and immediately called Ezra. The mystery maniac had used Ezra’s name to taunt me, and I worried he was the target.
He picked up on the first ring. “Hey,” he answered, wind noise in the background.
“Are you driving?” I asked.
“Yeah, I wrapped things up at the station, and I’m headed to you now.”
A sudden horrendous idea popped into my head. “Get off the road and get out of your truck!” If Ezra was the target, what better way to get him than to put the bomb under his vehicle?
“What’s going on?”
“Just do it, Ezra. Please. There might be a bomb.”
I heard the squeal of brakes, the engine cut, and the door open and close. “Hold on,” he said, his voice distant. “I have to take you off the truck speakers.” There was a pause, and then, much more clearly, he said, “There. I’m out. What’s this about a bomb?”
“I had another vision,” I started, then proceeded to tell him about the delivery of Starfighter lilies and the memory of the stranger in white, how he’d used Ezra’s name in his ditty, and how he said I had three hours to find the bomb before it went off.
“Three hours?” Ezra sounded incredulous. “How could he know when you would get the vision?”
“Or she,” I said.
“Almost eighty percent of violent crimes are perpetrated by men, so let’s work on the assumption that this person is a guy. With a willingness to change the assumption with further evidence and facts.”
“Agreed.” As scared as I was for Ezra, I couldn’t stop the hint of a smile tugging at my lips.
“So, three hours...”
“I don’t know,” I told him. I snapped at Brady to get his attention. “What were the instructions on that order?” I asked. “You said it came in a week ago?”
Brady, who had been listening with growing anxiety, paled visibly. “A bomb?” he stammered. His hands began to shake, and he looked around as if expecting the van to explode any second. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious,” I said firmly. “Now, what were the instructions on that order?”
“The flowers were to be delivered today at five o’clock sharp,” he said, his voice quivering.
“It’s only four-thirty,” Gilly said. “He’s early.”
Brady winced. “The smell of the flowers made me sick to my stomach.” He removed his hat and shoved it in his back pocket, revealing a thick, dark mop of hair that framed his face and made his blue eyes almost glow in contrast. “I have two other deliveries outside of town, so I decided to do this one first to get those lilies out of the van. It’s not a big deal, right?” He had a hangdog expression as he rubbed his face. “Don’t tell my boss. She insisted I get the order here at the precise time. The customer paid extra money for it.”
I nodded at Brady and let him off the hook. “Stay put. The police will want to talk to you when they get here.”
“Aw man,” he groaned, visibly distressed. “I’m gonna get so fired.”
I turned my attention back to my phone and Ezra. “Did you hear that? The delivery was supposed to be here at five,” I told him. “But the driver got here early.”
“If there’s a three-hour window, whatever is going down is supposed to happen at eight o’clock.”
“And we have three and a half hours to stop it.”
“I’ll be over soon. Hang tight, okay?”
“Don’t drive your truck,” I told him. “Not until you can get your bomb disposal people on it.”
“I’ve got one guy,” Ezra said. “I’ll call him as soon as I hang up. I’ll call Reese and have her pick me up. In the meantime, I’ll get some uniforms over there to go over the van and take statements.”
“Okay.” I was comforted knowing he was on his way. “See you soon.”
“I love you,” he said as his parting words.
“Love you back.” I disconnected the call.
Gilly’s gaze met mine. “Well?”
“He’s safe,” I told her. “For now.”
I hadn’t told Gilly about the vision before calling Ezra, but she’d overheard me relay the gist of it to him. “A homemade bomb? Cripes, this dude is a maniac.”
I glanced at Brady. “I don’t suppose you saw the person who made the order?”
“I don’t know anything about anything.” He shook his head, still looking shell-shocked. “Abby Salinger, my boss, took the order.” He frowned. “You’ll have to ask her.”
I didn’t know the owner of the florist. I’d ordered flowers for delivery over the years for funerals and such, but I’d never been to the shop. I’d made all my orders by phone with a credit card. “Is she still at the store?” I asked him.
“Should be,” he replied, his voice shaky. “The shop closes to customers at four, but Abby sometimes stays late making floral arrangements for the next day.”
The phone number for the florist was on the side of the van. I punched in the number and waited as it rang three times before going to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Garden Cove Floral. Our normal business hours are nine to four, Monday through Friday, and Saturdays eleven to four. We are closed on Sunday. If you’ve reached us outside of business hours and would like to make an order, go to our website and schedule an order online. Otherwise, please call back during regular business hours.”
I hung up, frustration bubbling inside me. “That was useless.”
Gilly picked the flowers and vase up from the floor. “No answer?” she asked.
“Just store hours,” I sighed.
Ari returned from the kitchen with a roll of paper towels, dabbing at the wet spots on the carpet.
“She still might be there,” Brady interjected. “She ignores the main phone after hours.”
I looked at the kid blandly. “That would’ve been good information to have a minute ago.”
Gilly glanced out the door and tapped my shoulder. “Patrol car.”
Officers Jeanna Treece and Levi Walters parked and exited the marked vehicle. I’d worked with them on several cases in my capacity as a consultant, so they were both aware of my ability. Another police car pulled in behind them. When the two officers got out, Jeanna gave them orders to secure the delivery van.
“Am I in trouble?” Brady asked as they approached the house. His voice was tinged with fear.
I felt bad for the kid, but the threat of danger was too high to reassure him that everything would be okay.
As they strolled up the sidewalk, Jeanna waved at me. “Hey, Ms. Black. We have to quit meeting like this.”
I shook my head. “I’d love for this to be a social call.”
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the delivery van. “Ezra says we need to tape off the van until the forensic team can get here and go over it.”
“Hey, no way,” Brady protested. “I still have deliveries to make.”
Levi Walters, a thin, young officer with jet-black hair and dark brown eyes, grunted at the kid. “Tough. Deliveries have been delayed.” He narrowed his gaze on Brady, his expression wary. “Anything you want to tell us before we search the van?”
“Nothing I can think of,” Brady replied, a worried crease lining his forehead.
I wasn’t sure what Ezra told the two officers, especially over the phone, but I doubted he mentioned my vision. Not over the phone. My suspicion was confirmed when Jeanna pulled out a notepad and pen and began questioning the delivery guy.
“All right, Brady. I need to ask you a few questions. First off, give me your full name and contact details.”
“Bradford Newsome,” he replied with a gulp. “Eight Seven Magnolia Court.”
“And your phone number?”
The young man winced, then prattled off the number with the area code. “I’m not a suspect, am I? I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Jeanna cast her gaze in my direction. I shrugged and then shook my head. Brady seemed too clueless to be the perpetrator, but he could be a good actor. And if not the person, he could be an accomplice. However, the fact that he’d delivered the order earlier than it had been scheduled seemed to clear him of any wrongdoing.
“Who placed the order for the flowers?” Jeanna asked.
“I don’t know,” he whined. “Like I told the lady,” he gestured at me, “my boss, Abby Salinger, took the order. You’ll have to ask her if you want any details.”
“The shop’s closed,” I told Jeanna. “I got an answering machine when I called a few minutes ago.”
She arched her brow at me then turned to Brady. “Do you have Ms. Salinger’s cell phone number?”
He shook his head. “No, just the shop number.”
She nodded as she jotted the information down. “Are you aware of anything unusual about how the order was placed? Any special instructions?”
Brady nodded. “Abby told me to make sure the lilies got here by five on the dot and that it was really important.”
“But did you see the customer?”
Brady frowned and shook his head. “I don’t work in the shop or take orders.” He sucked his teeth. “I don’t even know what this is about. All I do is deliver flowers, that’s it. I don’t know anything about bombs and stuff.”
The officers’ faces registered alarm.
“Bomb?” Jeanna stared at me. “Detective Holden said you received threats via a flower delivery and to secure the scene.” She blanched. “Is there a bomb in the van?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied hesitantly. “It’s somewhere else.” The where was anyone’s guess. Now that Ezra wasn’t in his truck anymore, a part of me hoped they would find it under the carriage. It chilled me to the bone to think about him being in mortal danger, but at least we’d have found it before it could do real harm.
“You got one of your, uh...” Jeanna scratched her nose to indicate my aroma-mojo.
I gave a quick nod and quietly said, “Yes. And there’s a deadline.” I tapped an imaginary watch on my wrist. “It’s set to go off at eight o’clock.”
“How do you know that?” Her brow furrowed. “Isn’t your uhm, thing, about seeing memories, not the future?”
“Yeah, but whoever is doing this knows that. They planned this at least a week ago.” Possibly, they’d been planning this for a lot longer and were just now putting their plan into action. “They wanted the florist to deliver the flowers to me at exactly five o’clock, and in the memory, they said I had three hours.”
Jeanna hissed a curse under her breath.
Levi turned to Brady, his demeanor and tone demanding. “Did anything seem off when you loaded up your delivery?”
The kid recoiled. “The only thing was the smell.” He wrinkled his nose and curled his lip in disgust. “It was intense. It gave me a headache and made me sick to my stomach. That’s the only reason I delivered them early.”
Again, the early delivery was an indication of his innocence in the matter. I was grateful for the extra time, though I wasn’t sure how much half an hour would help. The clues, if the person who sounded like Morgan Freeman gave any, were vague. EZ Holden as EZ Reader. Was there something in the play on words? Or was the bomber merely trying to be clever?
Jeanna’s lips pursed as she put her notebook away. She glanced at Brady. “Stay put, Mr. Newsome. We’re not done with you yet.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brady jammed his hands in his pocket as he looked down at the carpet and avoided eye contact with the officer.
Jeanna’s eyes narrowed on him as she scanned his face. “You sure there’s nothing else you need to tell us? You seem pretty nervous for just delivering flowers.”
Brady rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushed. “Well...”
Levi stepped closer, his voice stern. “Spit it out, kid. We don’t have all day.”
Brady swallowed hard. “I might have some weed gummies in the van. They’re legal now, but still...” He spread his palms wide. “I haven’t taken any today. I wait until I get home.”
Jeanna and Levi exchanged a glance. It didn’t take a psychic to know that people, in general, don’t drive around with weed in their vehicles if they are only using it at home. Even so, with the new marijuana laws in effect, I wasn’t sure that was a battle the two officers wanted to take on right now. Besides, the potential bomb took precedence.
“Three-hour deadline,” I reminded them.
Jeanna clucked her tongue. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks for being honest, Brady. Just sit tight while we sort this out. We’ll need to have a look at those gummies, too.”
Brady nodded, relief and anxiety mingling on his face. “I’ll cooperate. Whatever you need.”
I glanced at the van, filled with Starfighter lilies, and wondered if I could get a second vision from them. With the short timetable and the imminent danger, it was worth a shot.
“Jeanna, I need to smell those lilies,” I said, stepping forward. “The ones in the van, I mean.”
Levi raised an eyebrow. “You think it’ll help?”
I nodded. “It’s worth a shot. If there are any more memory clues, the strong scent of the lilies might trigger them.”
Jeanna stepped in front of me. “I can’t let you approach the van. Not until we’ve done a sweep and cleared it of any IEDs. Detective Holden would have my badge if I put you in danger, and I like my job.”
IED stood for improvised explosive devices, and there had been too much of that in the news over the past decade. Still, I never thought it was something I’d have to worry about in Garden Cove.
I acquiesced to her decision with a nod. Gilly then piped up, “Hey, if Nora can’t go to the flowers, maybe you could bring the flowers to Nora?”
More police cars arrived, along with an unmarked blue sedan. Reese McKay was in the driver’s seat, and Ezra got out on the passenger side.
My heart dipped. Knowing he was safe and seeing him safe were two different beasts. I skirted around Jeanna and went outside to meet him.
“Well?” I asked expectantly.
He shook his head. “No bomb.”
I gave him a quick embrace, thankful that he hadn’t been in danger. “What now? We don’t have much time to stop whatever this guy has planned.”
“If he has anything planned,” I heard someone say.
I pivoted my gaze to scan the officers and saw Broyles. Ugh.
Before the jerk could say more, Ezra pinned him with a go-ahead-punk, make-my-day stare.
“Just what I need,” I muttered.
Ezra’s lips thinned. “He’s my explosives expert.”
“Great,” I said flatly. “I wish I knew why the guy hates me so much.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ezra said, but not in any way that convinced me. “It doesn’t matter. He’s good at his job, and he’ll do it.”
Broyles was ex-military, but Ezra hadn’t told me any details of his service record, and I hadn’t asked.
“Let’s go over the memory again,” Ezra said. “Maybe something in it will give us a place to start.”
“If you can make heads or tails out of it.” It was hot outside for late May, but a shiver skittered along my skin. I crossed my arms over my chest. “He was humming the EZ Reader theme song. The one from Electric Company.”
Ezra arched a brow.
Moments like these reminded me of the cultural age gap between us. Electric Company had been the edgier cousin of Sesame Street and my favorite show when I was in elementary school. It had gone off the air in 1977, a decade before Ezra had even been born.
“Morgan Freeman was EZ Reader on the show,” I explained. “He had this theme song they would play at the beginning of all his skits.”
“Go on,” Ezra said.
“The bomber used Freeman’s voice and sang, ‘EZ Holden, that’s his name. EZ Holden will play my game.’”
Ezra’s eyes darkened. “Anything else?”
“‘Time’s not your friend, Nora. It’s ticking away. Will you find the bomb before it finds its prey? For someone with your gifts, it should be easy.’” I rubbed my arms. “He emphasized ‘easy,’ which made me think he was talking about you.” I met Ezra’s gaze. “He finished with, ‘I hope you can speed read, Hero. Tick tock. You have three hours before the clock runs out.’”
“EZ Reader,” Gilly, who’d come up behind me, commented. “Maybe he was talking about places where you read, like the library or a bookstore.”
“Maybe,” I mused. I turned my gaze to the van. “I think we need more information. If I can surround myself with the flowers, like the person in my vision, maybe, just maybe...” If the bomb went off before we could find it and people were injured or worse, I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself. If it hadn’t been for my clairolfaction, or as Gilly sometimes called it, my scratch-n-sniff psychic ability, this wouldn’t be happening.
Ezra placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Whatever happens, Nora, this isn’t your fault. Remember that. You’re not responsible for the behavior of a psychopath.”
“I know that logically,” I said quietly. “It doesn’t make me feel less responsible, though.”
“Easy’s right,” Gilly added. “Bad people do bad things. If this guy wasn’t targeting your ability, he’d be targeting something else.” She put her arm around my waist. “He’s made a huge mistake, though. Big!” she said, mimicking a line from Pretty Woman.
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” I asked her.
“He picked the wrong girl to mess with.” She kissed my cheek. “You’ll catch him, Nora. You always do.”
I hoped she was right, but for the first time, I had doubts. It was easier to catch criminals when they were unaware of my ability. Finding one who was using it against me was a whole different game.
“Van’s clear,” Broyles shouted. “No IEDs or explosives of any kind.”
“You sure?” Ezra asked.
Broyles held up a handheld device that looked like a radiation detector, and added, “I ran the sniffer over every inch and wiped it down with some trace paper. No explosive residue anywhere. If there was anything in or around this vehicle, I would’ve found it.”
Ezra waved his acknowledgment.
“Sniffer?” I asked him. “What’s that?”
“It’s a portable explosive trace detector,” he explained. “It detects explosives and explosive residue, and the trace paper will color when it comes in contact with any residue.”
“Like at airport security when they run those paper disks over your luggage.”
“Just the same.” He nodded. “Van’s clear. You want to try again for another vision?”
I stared at the van for a moment, then nodded. “I think I have to.” Now wasn’t the time for caution. Lives were at stake. “We’re running out of time.”