“On it,” she replied. She took out her phone and did a quick Google search. “Yep,” she confirmed. “They are having a Goosebumps Family Night.” She held up the screen to show the details. “It starts at six.”
He nodded at Jeanna. “Call the librarian and tell them to cancel the event and evacuate the building.” Ezra’s gaze turned to me as the officer stepped away to make her call. “What did you see this time?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, still tasting the acrid memory of bile in my mouth. “It’s... it was all so strange.”
Ezra’s eyes stayed locked on mine. His expression was encouraging but also patient. I appreciated that he didn’t waste time with unnecessary questions.
“I was in the white room again, the one filled with flowers. The figure in white, our suspect, pulled out a phone. He had to remove his glove to use it, and I saw his skin. He’s white. I didn’t know that before.” I paused, watching Ezra’s face as he absorbed this new piece of information.
“He started speaking, but it wasn’t his voice. It was like he was channeling different voices, famous ones. First, he sounded like Morgan Freeman, then Gandalf from ‘Lord of the Rings.’ I’m sure that’s why he had to access his phone. Ari brought up earlier that he’s probably using a voice-changing app. They have them for celebrity voices.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” Ezra said. “More than impersonators.”
I nodded my agreement. “It was unsettling. He put on Ian McKellen’s voice and recited a strange poem.”
His brow furrowed. “Can you remember it?”
I tried to recall the words exactly. “He said, ‘Gather quickly where secrets are told, and past sins run hot and cold. Where friends gather, strong and few, find the bomb before it strikes true. Twelve rules to rule them all. Seek them out before they fall. Tolkiens of victory in their palm won’t protect them against my bomb.’”
Ezra’s eyes widened slightly. “It sounds like he’s referencing ‘Lord of the Rings.’ I can see why you thought of the library.”
“That was Gilly’s thought earlier, with the EZ Reader taunt. So, when he started talking about Tolkien, it felt like she might have the right of it.”
“Seems likely,” he agreed. “But weird.”
“Right?” I shivered, and Ezra rubbed his hands along the sides of my arms. “It’s a guess.”
“At this point, we have to follow the clues where they lead,” he said. “Anything else?”
“He started laughing. The kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl.”
Ezra’s hand tightened on my arm. “The library is having an event tonight. It could be considered a gathering of friends.”
“But it’s Goosebumps, not The Hobbit,” I said.
“Maybe the voice changer didn’t have a setting for Jack Black.” He gave me a half-smile before his expression went grim. “Anything else you remember?”
I closed my eyes, trying to pull any last detail from the vision. “No, just the sense of urgency. We need to find this clown, Ezra. And fast.”
He nodded, his jaw set in determination. “We’ll find him. We have to.”
“I just hope we’re not too late.” I felt the immense weight of the countdown. Three hours was a long time for a root canal, but with the stakes this high, the time would breeze by quickly.
Ezra waved Broyles over. “Take a team to the library, make sure the building has been evacuated, then do a quick grid search and watch for traps.”
Broyles looked doubtful. “Are we even sure there’s an explosive device? Where’s the evidence?”
Ezra scowled. “You’re an asset to our department, Broyles, but that doesn’t mean I won’t bench you. You don’t have to trust Ms. Black’s ability, but the chief and I trust her. If that’s not good enough for you to follow orders, then maybe special operations isn’t the right team for you.”
“Broyles, quit being a jackass,” Reese McKay chided as she charged over to us. “You know how to follow orders, right?”
The man bristled with irritation. “I know how to follow orders.”
“Good.” Ezra lifted his chin to the man as if daring him to take a punch. “Then get to it. Call me immediately if you find anything.”
I didn’t want to defend the obnoxious man, but he was right about the fact that there wasn’t any real evidence of a bomb. “Look,” I said. “I can only go by what I see in my visions. Most of the time, the memories are genuine moments in someone’s life, but this person, whoever they are, has found a way to attach emotional memories to scents in a manufactured scenario. Was he holding a bomb in his hand with a timer attached? I don’t know. That’s what it looked like, though. And I think the bullets in the popcorn kettle were dangerous enough to take this monster seriously.” I pointed to the van. “Those flowers were sent to me with a card that claimed to be from EZ. This person wanted me to think it was Ezra so I’d take a big whiff. Even if you don’t believe I have the ability to see what I see, you have to believe someone is pulling the strings on this game of psychic chicken.”
Broyles squinted at me. “Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re the game master.”
