He buries his fingers into her hair and kisses her. “You"re asking for trouble, Hannagan,” he growls. “And you would be…?” Janie asks. She giggles. “Trouble.” ON HER OWN February 5, 2006, 5:15 a.m. Janie, sprawled out on Cabel"s couch, finally finds Miss Stubin on Janie"s own terms. ı She"s on the bench. Miss Stubin is there, next to her. It"s dusk. Perpetual rain. “I"m going on an overnight trip with the teacher who we think is the sexual predator. Some of his former students are going too—they may be victims,” Janie says. “What season is it?” Miss Stubin asks. Janie looks at her, puzzled. “Winter. It"s February.” “Wear a bulky coat to disguise the shaking in case you get sucked into a nightmare. Drape it over you. You"re taking a school van?” “Yes.” “Grab the backseat. And if you get sucked into a dream that"s unimportant to the case, pull out of it. Don"t waste your strength. You can pull out of them now, can"t you?” “Most of the time—the regular dreams, anyway.
