“I’m sure that’s what he said,” I confirmed.
“Maybe he meant more than one book. Like several of Tolkien’s novels,” Reese interjected. “There’s The Hobbit, and...”
“The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Other than that, just some short stories,” Broyles said.
I turned to look at him.
He tucked his chin. “What? I can’t know something about classic literature? Are you sure he said Tolkiens?” he asked, then added on an embarrassed mutter, “I mean, if what you’re saying happened, actually happened.”
“I am pretty sure,” I answered him, choosing to ignore his nay-saying. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Tolkiens in a palm. What if it’s tokens. Like a coin.”
“We found a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar outside the florist shop,” Ezra said. “Maybe that has some significance.”
“Or,” Broyles countered, “The token is a chip.”
My eyes widened. “Like a sobriety chip?”
He shrugged. “Twelve rules to rule them all? Could be referring to twelve steps.”
“There’s a meeting tonight at the Cove Community Church,” I said rapidly. It started at seven-thirty.” I grabbed Ezra’s hand. “Tippy is celebrating her third year tonight. Pippa and Jordy were going as her family support. They’re taking the babies.”
“The CCC used to be the old library,” Reese said. “The town sold the building to the church after they built the new library about ten years ago.”
I’d already started the car and was backing out before Ezra could say, “Son of a?—”
* * *
By the timewe got on the highway, heading back to town, I had three police cars for an escort. One was in front of me and two behind me, lights flashing and sirens blaring as we sped towards Cove Community Church.
Reese called the threat in, dispatching nearby officers to the building to evacuate anyone inside. Despite these efforts, I couldn’t shake the fear for my friends’ safety. Ezra had repeatedly tried to contact Jordy and Pippa, but their phones went straight to voicemail.
I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension, restraining myself from flooring the gas pedal and overtaking the police escort, which seemed agonizingly slow.
The dash clock read seven forty-eight. “We’re not going to make it,” I muttered, tapping my fingers anxiously on the wheel.
“We’ll make it,” Ezra assured me, his tone firm. He leaned forward, eyes fixed on the road. “Reese, any confirmation that anyone has arrived on scene?”
“Not yet,” she replied, shaking her head as she checked her phone. “Most of our officers were at the auction, and those in town were dealing with a drunken disorderly at the Rose Palace Resort. Everyone’s at least five minutes away. They won’t get there much before we do.”
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Try Pippa again,” I urged, my voice tight. I racked my brain for anyone else who might be at the AA meeting but came up blank. “Do you all know anyone who might be at the meeting?” It was a long shot, but I had to ask. Reese’s cousin Fiona, a young woman who’d been murdered a few years ago, had been in Narcotics Anonymous. When none of them answered in the affirmative, I asked, “Does the church have a contact number for the person who organizes the meetings? We need to get them out of there.” The more I thought about the message, the more the AA meeting made sense. Few gather, sins of the past, twelve steps, a token... Why hadn’t I figured it out sooner? Maybe because “EZ Reader” didn’t seem to fit an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Even the fact that the church used to be a library didn’t tick all the boxes.
I hoped we were wrong. I hoped we weren’t too late.
“Still no answer,” Ezra said, frustration evident in his clenched jaw. “They probably silenced their phones for the meeting.”
“Pippa’s been so excited about tonight. Tippy has really come a long way since arriving in Garden Cove. She even baked the cake for Tippy’s celebration.” A chilling thought struck me, and I stiffened. “What if he chose the meeting because he knew Tippy would be there? Is he targeting the people I care about?”
EZ Holden, that’s his name. EZ Holden will play my game.
The psycho playing the terrible game had mentioned Ezra specifically. “Time’s not your friend, Nora. That’s what he said in the first vision when he was taping the timer to the bomb,” I recalled, voice trembling. “Will you find the bomb before it finds its prey? What if he meant ‘pray,’ as in the serenity prayer? Don’t they say it at the end of every meeting?”
Broyles made a noise of frustration from the backseat, shifting restlessly. I heard him speaking into his phone, “Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Are you at the meeting at Cove Community Church tonight?”
I glanced at Ezra. His eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening.
“I need you to announce that everyone needs to evacuate the building,” he instructed the person on the other end, his tone commanding. “Now. There’s a bomb threat. The police are on their way.” I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Broyles nodding. “Thanks. See you in a few.”
