5. Holt
HOLT
The police station was quiet that morning.
Holt had expected that. Holt didn’t care about quiet right now.
He sat at his desk with the sneaker box in front of him and the shoes placed carefully to one side, his reading glasses on, examining every seam and surface of the box with methodical attention.
Andy had handed them over without question when Holt had explained what he needed.
The boy had looked at the box for a long moment before passing it across, and something in his expression had made Holt’s chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared to examine yet.
That’s when the realization had really hit him—Andy was his grandson.
He pressed that thought back down and focused on the box.
The Barbara Bass branding was unmistakable, the same partial logo they’d found under the floorboards of the cabin weeks ago.
Holt turned the box slowly in his hands, pressing each corner carefully, running his thumb along every edge.
The base felt uniform. The sides felt uniform.
He picked up the left shoe and examined the insole, pulling it free and holding it up to the light.
Nothing.
He set it down and picked up the right shoe.
The door to his office opened.
“I see you’re here after all,” Rad said from the doorway. Holt could see his son was still holding himself aloof, as he had since the previous night. “Willa called to let me know what happened.”
“Yes,” Holt replied, setting the shoe down. “I needed to examine these items before I get them to the FBI field office in Miami.”
“You mean sending them there by courier?” Rad walked into the office and looked at the box and shoes on the desk.
“No.” Holt looked up. “I mean, when I get there, I will deliver them myself in a couple of hours.”
Rad stared at him. “You’re going to Miami?”
“Yes, we are. Ace is finding us a bigger plane right now,” Holt told him. “We could’ve been there already in Ace’s plane, but as it turns out, Carmen, your grandmother, and Willa insist on coming.”
“It’s just as well that Ace is getting a bigger plane,” Rad told him. “Because I’m going too.”
Holt opened his mouth.
“Before you argue,” Rad continued, holding up one hand, “you’re going to need my help there. You know you are. Especially if Victoria is there with Alfred.”
Holt looked at his son for a moment. He could see that Rad wasn’t going to back down.
“We’re leaving to go fetch everyone in five minutes,” Holt said. “I just have a few things to do.”
“I’m ready now,” Rad told him.
Holt nodded, stood, packed the shoes back into the box and reached for his jacket, when footsteps stopped in the doorway. Tom looked in at them both.
“I’ve just heard from Zane what you found,” Tom said without preamble.
“Tom.” Holt held his gaze. “Please tell me you’re not about to ask to come with us.”
“No, I’m not.” Tom shook his head. “I understand exactly what it would look like and what it would mean for the investigation.”
“Thank you for understanding, Tom,” Holt said with a slight nod.
“Please just keep me informed. Whatever you find. Whatever happens.” Tom held Holt’s gaze. “Victoria is still the mother of my children and Alfred… well, he’s been with my family for generations.”
“I know,” Holt replied. “You have my word, we will let you know as soon as we have any news.”
Tom nodded once and stepped back from the doorway.
Holt’s phone rang as he and Rad walked out of the station into the morning sun. He looked at the screen.
It was Ace.
“Hello Ace, did you manage to get us a plane?” Holt asked after hitting the answer button.
“Yes,” Ace replied. “I’ve got a Beechcraft King Air. It’ll carry everyone comfortably.”
“Good, where are you?” Holt asked.
“On my way to the airstrip near the Henderson farm,” Ace told him. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Great, we’ll meet you there.” Holt hung up before he walked towards Carmen’s car that she’d let him borrow. “We will need to take two cars. I’ll meet you at Willa’s house, and from there we will go to the airstrip near the Hendersons’ farm, where Ace has a plane waiting.”
When Holt, followed by Rad, pulled up at Willa’s house, she and Carmen were on the front porch. Zane was beside Carmen and Margo near Willa, with a bag over her shoulder, showing she was coming on their trip too.
Holt sighed as he stepped out of the car, and his mother appeared from inside Willa’s house.
“Do we have space for everyone?” Holt asked.
“According to Ace, we do,” Willa told him.
“Hello, son.” His mother came down the porch steps and stopped in front of Holt. “I’m going to stay and look after the children.”
“That’s a good plan,” Holt agreed, with a tight smile. “We need someone here in case Victoria and Alfred have double-backed.”
“Be safe, and I hope you get to June before they do,” Mina said, keeping her voice down in case the teens inside, his grandkids , Holt shook the thought aside, were listening.
Twenty-five minutes later, the King Air lifted off the Henderson airstrip and banked south toward Miami.
Willa had been trying her mother’s phone since before they boarded.
Holt could see it from the co-pilot seat, the slight furrow between her brows deepening every time she looked at the screen. She was as worried as he was. They all were. Willa shook the phone in frustration.
“She’s still not answering,” Willa announced, through gritted teeth for the third time since takeoff. “It’s just going straight to voicemail. My messages aren’t even going through.”
“Put the phone away while we’re in the air,” Ace told her, his eyes on the instruments.
“They let you use phones on commercial flights,” Willa pointed out.
“Commercial flights have to follow FAA passenger rules,” Ace replied, his voice even. “On a private aircraft, the pilot has discretion over electronics, and your phone could interfere with my avionics. So put it away, please.”
Willa made a sound that was not quite agreement, nor quite an argument. She put the phone in her pocket.
Three minutes later, she was standing behind the cockpit.
“Can’t this go any faster?” Willa asked.
“Willa,” Ace said patiently.
“We wasted hours back there,” she pressed. Her eyes moved accusingly to Holt. “Hours where Victoria could have?—”
The aircraft dipped sharply.
Willa grabbed the back of Holt’s seat with both hands and stared at the back of Ace’s head.
“Turbulence,” Ace said, with complete innocence. “Now go sit and buckle up.”
“That was not turbulence,” Willa informed him, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“The weather around Miami can be unpredictable,” Ace replied. “I’d recommend sitting down and buckling up.”
Willa held his gaze for a long moment as if she was deciding whether to argue further. Then she turned and went back to her seat.
Holt watched her go. “That was mean,” he told Ace.
“It worked.” Ace glanced at him sideways. “Willa can get rather pent up when she’s anxious, annoyed, or wants to get her own way.” He shook his head. “She’s gorgeous, witty, intelligent, and so…”
“You’re aware,” Holt said carefully, “that she’s my daughter.”
Ace turned to look at him with one raised eyebrow.
“You’re aware that I knew Willa’s other father,” he replied. “He liked me and would’ve approved of us.”
“Well, he’s not here now,” Holt warned. “But I am.”
“You’ve been her father for about five minutes,” Ace pointed out pleasantly. “I’ve known her for over twenty years.”
“That still doesn’t mean I approve of what’s going on between the two of you,” Holt teased with a smug smile. “And trust me, I’m not Willa’s trusting father.”
“Willa is an adult now,” Ace pushed. “So we don’t really need your approval.”
“That will make family gatherings rather awkward,” Holt told him.
Ace snorted, nodded, and looked at Holt with respect.
“You’re a great dad,” he had commented, and something flashed in his eyes. “I wish I’d know my dad.”
“He was a good man,” Holt assured Ace. “I knew him well. He’d be really proud of the man you grew up to be.”
“Thanks,” Ace said with a tight smile. “Have you and Willa talked since last night?”
“No,” Holt said, and before he could say more, a head appeared between the seats.
“I heard all about what happened with Willa and June last night from Carmen,” Zane said, folding himself into the small seat behind Holt with the careful efficiency of a tall man navigating a compact space. “For what it’s worth, she’s a great young woman who would make any father proud.”
“I know,” Holt replied, and the simplicity of it surprised him. He did know. He’d known something was particular about Willa from the first time he’d met her, and he’d attributed it to June. Maybe it had been both. “From the first moment I met her, there was something.”
“A feeling?” Zane asked.
“Yes.” Holt nodded slowly. “I thought it was because she was June’s daughter.”
“Fathers have that,” Zane said. “I knew before the Army showed up at my door that my son was gone.”
The cockpit was quiet for a moment.
“Zane,” Holt said. “I’m truly sorry about Zak. That was a terrible loss.”
“Thank you,” Zane replied. “It was many years ago now. Then I lost my wife a few years after that.” He gave a soft, resigned sound. “That’s partly why I never thought of retiring until now. I had nowhere to retire to or for.”
“You’re retiring?” Ace looked at him, genuinely startled.
“That’s right,” Zane confirmed. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. “One of the reasons I’m still in town is to assess Willa. I want her to take over from me.”
Ace and Holt both turned to look at him at the same moment.
“What?” they said together.
“She’s the right person for it,” Zane said simply. “She’s been the right person for it for a while. I’ve just been holding on longer than I should have.”
“She’ll be extraordinary at that job,” Ace said, and the pride in it was entirely unguarded.
“I know she will,” Zane agreed.
“I have to say with complete bias that Willa is a good choice, Zane,” Holt told him, and meant every word of it as pride for his daughter filled his chest.