16. June #2
“You don’t have to go,” Holt replied. “Actually, you could help me with something. Anything you notice that looks out of place, anything that seems like it might not belong, I’d like to know about it now before the team catalogs it.”
She nodded.
“Do you have your phone?” June pressed. She pulled the burner from her pocket and held it up. “Mine was blown up. I only have this one, and the camera on it is terrible.”
“Oh.” Holt’s eyes widened with the small, embarrassed recognition of a man who had forgotten something obvious. He pulled his own phone from his back pocket. “Right. Yes. Come on. I’ll record, and you walk me through the house.”
They spent the next hour moving slowly through the upstairs of the house, room by room.
June pointed to where things had been, what had belonged to Trevor, what had belonged to Willa in her childhood, what had been in storage, and what had been in daily use.
Holt recorded every word of it, asking careful questions when something didn’t match what he was seeing.
June’s voice was steadier than she’d expected it to be.
There was something grounding about describing the contents of her life to someone who was listening carefully.
They reached the last room just as the sound of tires pulled up on the street outside.
The forensic team had arrived.
“I’d better get out of their way,” June said quietly, turning toward the stairs.
“June.” Holt stopped her at the top of the staircase. “Do you want me to keep this recording for you? For the insurance claim?”
“Thank you.” June nodded. “I don’t know if I’m covered for being firebombed by a crazed arsonist trying to murder me. But yes if you could keep it for me I’d be grateful.”
A soft laugh escaped Holt before he could stop it. “I’m sure you’re covered for this,” he replied.
“I hope so,” June sighed.
She left him with his team and walked back down the stairs alone.
June stepped out of what remained of her front door just as a dark sedan pulled up at the curb.
Her stomach dropped.
Three men stepped out that she recognized instantly. Tom, Barry, and Harvey had arrived.
All three of them looked like they hadn’t slept.
Tom’s shoulders were set in the stiff, careful way of a man holding himself together by sheer will.
Barry’s face was drawn, his eyes red-rimmed, the grief of ten years stripped open and reopened all at once.
Harvey stood half a step behind his uncle, his jaw tight, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jeans.
They saw her at the same moment.
“June,” Tom greeted her quietly. “I’m so sorry we’re early. We caught a flight the moment Holt called.”
“It’s all right, Tom,” June replied, crossing to meet them at the curb. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Barry stepped forward and, without preamble, pulled her into a careful embrace. “I’m so sorry, June,” he murmured. “About your house. About all of it.”
“Thank you, Barry.” June hugged him back.
Barry stepped back, his eyes moved past her to the blackened shell behind her. He shook his head slowly.
“I can’t believe it about Basil,” Barry admitted, his voice cracking slightly on his son’s name. “I’ve been awake all night, and I still can’t make it fit. I keep telling myself it must be a mistake. That it can’t be him.”
“I know,” June said softly.
Harvey hadn’t said a word yet. His eyes were fixed somewhere over her shoulder. His jaw was working.
“Harvey,” June gave him a small smile and a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t understand how he could have done that to us,” Harvey managed. His voice was rough. “To any of us. He was like a brother to me, June. He let me mourn him for ten years. He let my uncle mourn him for ten years. I don’t...” He stopped. Swallowed. “I don’t know what kind of person does that.”
June reached out and laid a hand on his arm.
Harvey’s eyes filled briefly. He nodded once and looked away.
Across the street, Holt appeared at the front door of the ruined house, saw the three of them, and started down the path.
“Tom. Barry. Harvey.” Holt crossed to them and shook each of their hands in turn. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I know how hard this trip must have been.”
“Thank you for calling us, Holt,” Tom replied. “We appreciate being told before it hits the news.”
“Why don’t we go inside?” June suggested, nodding toward the Airbnb across the road. “This is still a fairly tight-knit neighborhood. There’s no need for the whole street to watch us talking.”
The five of them went inside the Airbnb where everyone was now awake.
Margo had pulled together breakfast with the quiet, practical efficiency of a woman who had handled catered events for decades.
Bacon and scrambled eggs sat in warming dishes.
A tall stack of buttered toast waited beside them.
A fresh pot of coffee was on. Carmen was pulling plates out of the cabinet.
Ace and Rad were sitting at the kitchen table.
Victoria emerged from the bedroom she’d shared with June just as the group came through the front door. She had showered and dressed. Her hair was pulled back. Her eyes were tired but steady.
She stopped when she saw Tom.
Tom stopped when he saw her.
For a long beat, neither of them moved.
“Tom,” Victoria managed.
“Victoria.” Tom crossed the room in three strides and, to June’s complete astonishment, pulled his ex-wife into his arms.
Victoria made a small, stunned sound against his shoulder and then, after a moment, brought her arms up and held on.
“I’m so sorry, Victoria,” Tom murmured into her hair. “I should have seen what she was. I should have believed you years ago.”
“This is not your fault, Tom,” Victoria whispered back. “Not your fault at all. We both should’ve seen it was so much more than just spiteful antics.”
June looked at Carmen. Carmen looked back. Neither of them said anything.
Zane cleared his throat from the kitchen doorway. He’d changed into a fresh shirt. His eyes were alert despite the short night. After everyone else greeted the new arrivals, they stood awkwardly in the hallway. Zane pointed to the first door on the left.
“Holt,” Zane said, “why don’t you take June, Tom, Barry, and Harvey into the small office so you can talk properly? I’ll bring coffee through. Margo will bring breakfast when she’s made the next round.”
“Thank you, Zane,” Holt replied gratefully.
“None of us feel much like eating,” Barry admitted quietly.
“You’ll eat,” Carmen announced from the kitchen. “All of you will eat. This is not negotiable. You can eat and talk at the same time.”
A small, tired ripple of laughter moved through the group. It broke the tension just enough.
June led the way to the small office off the main living room.
The office was cramped but private. Holt closed the door behind them. The five of them arranged themselves on the two small sofas and the desk chair. Zane came through a moment later with a tray of coffee and set it down on the low table between them before stepping back out.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Tom broke the silence.
“Holt. Are you absolutely certain?” Tom asked. His voice was steady but his hands were not. “Is there any chance at all that this is a mistake? That Sienna is being set up somehow? That she’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
Holt looked at Tom for a long, compassionate moment.
“I’m certain, Tom,” Holt replied gently. “I am so sorry. The evidence is substantial. Shaun recorded a message before he died. It confirms both of their involvement. June can show you the video when you’re ready to watch it.”
Tom closed his eyes.
His throat worked.
“How did I not see it?” Tom whispered. “She’s my daughter. She grew up in my house. How did I not see what she was?”
“Tom, she worked very hard for you not to see,” June told him gently. “Sienna was careful. Calculated. She showed you exactly what she wanted you to see.”
“Victoria saw,” Tom said roughly.
“Victoria saw too late,” June corrected. “And she spent years not trusting what she was seeing.”
Barry sat forward with his elbows on his knees.
“When can we see him?” Barry asked quietly. “When can I see my son?”
“It will be a few days, Barry,” Holt told him carefully.
“Both of them are currently in a secure medical facility for assessment and treatment of the head injuries they sustained during the arrest. Once they’ve been medically cleared, they’ll be transferred to federal holding.
Standard procedure. You’ll be able to request a supervised visit after they’ve been processed and arraigned. ”
“Will they be held here in Miami?” Tom asked.
“Most likely in Miami for the first phase,” Holt replied. “Given the federal nature of the charges and the complexity of the case, they’ll almost certainly be moved to a federal facility for the duration of the trial proceedings. Again, that’s standard.”
“What kind of charges are we looking at?” Harvey asked. His voice was tight.
Holt glanced at June.
June took the lead on this. It was more her area than his, and she could deliver it with more precision than he could.
“Given what we have,” June told them carefully, “and given how much of what we have is on Shaun’s video, we’re looking at five counts of murder in the first degree for the cabin fire alone, then Mrs. Clark.
Plus multiple counts of attempted murder for Lacey, Judy, myself, and Holt.
Plus arson. Plus identity theft. Plus conspiracy.
Plus multiple counts of grand theft for the cat burglary operations across Florida, New York, and Massachusetts spanning the past decade. ”
The room went very quiet.
“And Basil’s identity theft of Lieutenant Brandon,” June continued softly, “means Lieutenant Brandon’s murder as well. Which makes six counts of murder in the first.”
Barry made a small, shattered sound.
Harvey put his face in his hands.