6. June
JUNE
June walked into Miami National Bank with her shoulders straight and her heels clipping a steady rhythm against the marble floor.
She’d worn the navy suit she usually saved for court appearances.
The white blouse beneath it was crisp and freshly pressed, and her hair was pinned back the way she always pinned it when she needed to be taken seriously.
The drive over had given her time to think, and she’d used it to make a decision about how she was going to handle this.
June Carter, an attorney, was walking into Miami National Bank to access her safety deposit box. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The reception desk sat at the end of a long polished foyer. June approached with her purse tucked neatly under one arm and offered the young woman behind the counter a measured, professional smile.
“Good afternoon,” June said. “I need to access my safety deposit box. Could I please speak with the manager?”
“Of course, ma’am.” The young woman looked up from her screen. “May I have your name and a form of identification?”
June handed over her driver’s license and the slim white card.
“June Carter,” she added. “Box three oh seven.”
The young woman ran the card and checked her screen. “If you’d like to take a seat, ma’am, I’ll let our manager know you’re here.”
June thanked her and crossed to one of the leather chairs near the window.
She sat with her purse on her lap and her hands folded carefully on top of it.
The bank was quiet at this hour, only one other customer being served at a teller, and the soft, measured sounds of a working day in a place where money moved without urgency.
June kept her breathing even and her face composed and reminded herself that she’d argued cases in front of judges considerably more intimidating than a Miami bank manager.
A door opened on the far side of the foyer.
“Hello, June.” The voice was warm and familiar.
June looked up and felt her shoulders ease.
“Marcus.” June stood with a genuine smile. “I was wondering where you went to.”
Marcus Robinson crossed the foyer and shook her hand with both of his. He was in his late fifties, tall and silver-haired, the same kind, careful eyes she remembered from the years he’d managed her own bank in the city center.
“I transferred over here about eighteen months ago,” Marcus told her. “It’s good to see you, June.”
“It’s good to see you too.” June meant it.
“Shall we go through? I understand you’d like access to your box.” Marcus gestured toward the door he’d come through.
“Yes, please.” June nodded.
Marcus led her through the door and down a short, carpeted corridor to a second security door, which he opened with a key card.
June followed him through a small antechamber and into the vault room.
The boxes sat in their long, polished walls of brass and silver, the air inside cool and softly lit, the absolute quiet of a room designed to hold things people didn’t want anyone else to find.
“Box three oh seven,” Marcus said, leading her to the relevant wall. He produced his master key, slid it into one of the two locks on the box, and turned. “If you’d like to use your card now.”
June slid her thin white key card into the second slot.
The lock released with a soft click.
Marcus eased the long metal box out and carried it to one of the private viewing rooms set into the side wall. He set it carefully on the table inside, then turned to her with the practiced discretion of someone who’d done this hundreds of times.
“I’ll be right outside,” Marcus told her. “Take all the time you need. When you’re done, just press the button beside the door and I’ll come back to help you secure the box.”
“Thank you, Marcus.” June smiled at him.
He stepped out and closed the door behind him.
June stood alone in the small, softly lit room with the box in front of her and the absolute silence pressing in on her from every direction.
She sat down. Her hands were not entirely steady as she lifted the lid.
The box held two things.
A small black thumb drive sat in the center, completely innocuous, the kind of device that could have been bought at any office supply store. Beneath it, folded once, was a single sheet of paper.
June lifted the note out first.
She unfolded it slowly and recognized Shaun’s handwriting.
June, if you’re reading this, I know what we feared is true, and I’m no longer with you. Please get this to the authorities, as it explains everything. But watch it first so you know who you can trust.
Be careful, and please look out for my family.
Love, Shaun
June pressed her lips together hard.
Below his signature, in the same careful handwriting, was a final paragraph she recognized from earlier that day:
The traitor was right in front of me, living their life amongst us all along. Those closest to me realized it too late. We had already been poisoned.
Her vision blurred. She blinked back the tears but refused to let them fall.
She refolded the note and slipped it into the side pocket of her purse, tucking it safely behind her wallet. Then she picked up the thumb drive.
June held it in her palm for a long moment.
Then she reached into her purse, pulled out the empty spare thumb drive she’d carried in there for years for when clients sent her files at inconvenient moments, and placed the spare carefully into the box where Shaun’s drive had been, then closed the lid.
She slipped Shaun’s drive into the same inside pocket as the note and zipped it shut.
Then June pressed the button beside the door.
Marcus appeared a moment later. “All done?”
“Yes, thank you, I’m finished,” June confirmed.
Marcus carried the box back to the wall, slid it home, locked it with both keys, and handed her card back to her. He glanced at her face as he did, and something in his expression suggested he’d noticed she wasn’t quite as composed as she’d been when she’d walked into the vault.
“Marcus,” June said carefully, “would it be possible to use a phone? I left my cellphone at home this morning, and I really need to make a quick call. And if I could borrow a laptop briefly, I’d be very grateful.”
“Of course.” Marcus smiled. “Use my office. The phone is on my desk, and there’s a laptop on the credenza behind the chair. The code for the landline is six six four star to get an outside line.” He paused. “Take as long as you need, June. I’ll be at reception.”
“Thank you, Marcus.” June gave him a tight smile.
He gave her a small nod and led her back through to his office, then closed the door quietly behind him.
June sat down behind Marcus’s desk and set her purse on top of it.
She looked at the thumb drive in her hand for one long moment, then set it beside the laptop without inserting it. Before she watched whatever was on it, she needed to make a call.
June picked up the phone, dialed the code Marcus had given her, and waited for the outside line. Then she dialed Lucy’s clinic from memory.
The phone rang four times before June’s assistant, Nurse Davies answered.
“Sandpiper Shores Medical Center,” She greeted.
“Nurse Davies, it’s June Carter,” June answered.
“June! Hello, what can I do for you today?” Nurse Davies asked.
“I’ve left my cellphone at home and I need to speak to Lucy quite urgently. Is she at the clinic this afternoon?” June asked her.
“I’m afraid she’s out. She had some errands to run.
But I have her cellphone number, and I’m sure she won’t mind me giving it to you.
Hold on one moment.” June heard the rustle of papers, and then Nurse Davies came back on the line and read out the number.
June wrote it carefully on the legal pad sitting next to Marcus’s phone.
“Thank you, Nurse Davies. You’ve been such a help.” June eyed the phone number.
“Anytime, dear. You take care now.” Nurse Davie replied.
June hung up, picked the receiver back up, and dialed Lucy’s number.
Lucy answered on the second ring.
“Hello,” Lucy answered.
“Hello, Lucy,” June replied. “It’s June. Sorry I don’t have my phone with me.”
“June, where is everyone?” Lucy asked her, her voice ringing with confusion.
“What do you mean?” June frowned at the question.
“Ace, Holt, Margo, Willa, Carmen, Rad, and Zane are all on their way to Miami,” Lucy told her.
“Ace got Dean to find him a bigger plane to fit them all. They’ve been in the air for a couple of hours.
” There was a pause. “Are you all right? I heard you were home.” Another pause. “What on earth is going on, June?”
June’s brows shot up.
Holt and a group from Sandpiper Shores were all on their way here! That meant they’d worked out where Victoria and Alfred had gone. Her eyes moved automatically toward the office door, toward the coffee shop across the road from the bank where Victoria and Alfred were waiting for her.
“When did they leave?” June asked.
“I’m not sure. About an hour ago, maybe two,” Lucy replied. “June, what’s happening? You’re scaring me a little.”
“Lucy, I haven’t got time to explain everything now,” June told her, keeping her voice level. “I promise as soon as I’m able to, I will tell you everything.”
“June,” Lucy said carefully. “Is it true? Did Holt and Willa find out about?—”
June’s jaw tightened. Lucy had silently known her secret all these years. It had just never been spoken between them.
“Yes,” June replied honestly. “But that’s not why they’re on their way here. They’re coming because they’ve worked out that Victoria and Alfred are in Miami.”
“Oh no.” Lucy’s voice dropped. “June. Are they holding you hostage?”
“What?” June frowned. “No. It’s not what anyone thinks, Lucy. None of it is what anyone thinks.” Her heart was beating faster now and she pulled herself back to what she actually needed to know. “Lucy, I need to ask you something about Shaun, Gilbert, and the other three firefighters.”
“All right,” Lucy replied.
“Where exactly were their bodies found?” June asked.
There was a long pause.