Chapter 13 June #2
“Sure,” the manager said and moved toward the front door.
“Dr. Vernon’s actual car is at an auto shop.
A day or two ago, she went to Henderson’s farm for fruit.
When she came out, she found someone had backed into her car.
Mr. Henderson arranged for the car to be towed to the auto shop he uses, and he gave her a lift to a rental company. ”
“That was good of him,” June stated.
“Yes, the Hendersons are good people,” the manager agreed as she led them to the guests’ car park. “He told Dr. Vernon that the camera in his parking lot had been vandalized the day before. He felt bad about it, so he insisted on paying for the rental car.”
The manager stopped at a space near the side of the building. “This was her spot,” she said.
June and Holt looked at the empty space.
June’s heart sank. The emptiness felt loud.
Holt’s eyes narrowed slightly, and June didn’t need him to say it.
The car not being here meant that Judy had left, and from what the housekeeper had told them, she’d done so in what appeared to be a hurry.
Such a hurry that she’d left a lot of her items behind.
“Do you know which rental company Dr. Vernon got her car from?” Holt turned to the woman he towered over.
The manager shook her head. “No, but Mr. Henderson would, as it’s a company he took Dr. Vernon to.”
“Okay, thank you.” Holt turned back toward the inn, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking us to her room.”
June had a feeling their next point of call would be Hendersons’ farm.
The manager led them back inside, down a corridor flanked by doors on either side, each labeled with neat gold numbers.
“Dr. Vernon and her husband were regular guests here.” The manager gave them some history on Dr. Vernon as they walked through the inn. “Especially after… after the tragedy.”
June’s attention sharpened. “What tragedy?”
The manager hesitated and glanced at June before offering, “Her younger brother’s death.
” Her eyes darkened with emotion. “I knew him, you know. Gilbert. He was a good person. I can’t believe what the media and everyone in Sandpiper Shores said about him or what they accused him of.
” She shook her head. “That wasn’t Gilbert. ”
June’s eyes flicked to Holt. She could almost feel the moment their thoughts aligned. The manager continued, unaware of what she’d just confirmed.
“She comes back every year,” the manager went on. “It’s her wedding anniversary, and then about two weeks later, it’s the anniversary of her brother’s death.”
June’s breath caught. “Her wedding anniversary is two weeks before the day her brother died?”
“Yes.” The manager nodded. “They were all down here that year to celebrate it.” She frowned again. “I know that Gilbert was very excited and said he had one of his most fascinating stories to break to the world.”
June’s mind spun. Gilbert was in Sandpiper Shores chasing a big story. They reached the suite, and the manager unlocked the door and stepped aside.
Holt pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and slipped them on. Then he handed June another pair, and June took them, pulling them on as she followed Holt inside. The manager stood politely outside the room's perimeter.
The suite looked ordinary at first glance. Clean bed. Fresh towels. A neat little table by the window. Holt moved slowly, scanning the room, his gaze methodical. June went into the bathroom, checking cabinets and shelves out of habit. Everything was clean, almost sterile.
June came back out and asked the manager, “Were her toiletries still here?”
The manager shook her head. “I don’t know. I can check the inventory list once we’re back at the desk.”
Holt’s eyes moved to a small safe built into the wardrobe.
“Was anything left in the safe?” he asked.
The manager frowned, as if trying to remember the procedure.
“If there were, it would’ve been documented and boxed with the rest of her belongings,” the manager answered Holt. “Any items left behind are recorded. We don’t leave anything unlogged.”
Holt nodded. “I’m going to need a team in here,” he said, then added, “Please keep this room unavailable. Ask your staff not to enter again until we say otherwise.”
The manager’s face tightened with worry. “Do you think she’s missing?” she asked quietly.
Holt didn’t answer directly, but his tone was firm. “There is nothing to point to her being missing right now.” He glanced around again. “Rather, Dr. Vernon seems to have left in a big hurry.”
They went back downstairs, and the manager led June to a storage area where a box had been prepared. It wasn’t small. It sat on a counter with a printed inventory sheet clipped to the lid. June scanned the list quickly and was distracted when the manager slid a form toward June.
“You’ll need to sign this, please,” the manager pointed out. “It confirms that you’re taking possession of the items and are now responsible for them.”
June signed without hesitation, her handwriting steady even though her thoughts weren’t. Holt stood beside her, silent, and June could feel his vigilance like a physical presence.
Holt lifted the box, they thanked the manager and staff who had helped them, and then left, heading back to Carmen’s car.
They drove back toward Sandpiper Shores in a tight silence, and June’s eyes kept drifting to Holt’s hands on the steering wheel, to the set of his jaw, to the way his gaze flicked to the rearview mirror more often than it needed to.
He wasn’t only thinking about Judy. He was thinking about the wider pattern, about what it meant if Judy was involved or if Judy was a victim, and June didn’t envy him that mental weight.
When they reached the outskirts of Sandpiper Shores, Holt didn’t go straight back to town. He turned onto a quieter road that led to a small diner tucked behind a line of trees. He parked beneath the shade and turned off the engine.
“We need to look through that box,” Holt said, and his voice was calm, but June could hear the urgency underneath it.
June nodded, climbed out of the passenger seat, and into the back seat beside the box. Holt got out, too.
“I’ll get us a coffee and some bagels,” he glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s past noon, and I’m starving.”
“Thank you, that would be great,” June said. “I’ll go through the box in the meantime.”
Holt nodded and walked off, leaving June in the back seat beside the box of Judy’s items. She felt like an intruder as she took her house keys from her purse and sliced the tape that was holding the box closed. The top flaps popped open, and she stared into the container.
Everything inside was neatly stacked and packed, as if it had been on a shelf in a store.
The clothing was folded into squares. Judy’s toiletries had been put into a zipped bag.
Her shoes were paired and stored inside individual clear plastic bags.
Even the small personal items were neatly organized and stored.
There was a list taped and signed off on the inside of one of the top flaps.
June frowned when her eyes caught two of the items mentioned there.
She was about to rifle through the box to find them when Holt came back, making her jump when he opened the front door and slipped inside with coffee and a bag of bagels.
Holt’s gaze moved toward the box with a quiet intensity.
“Anything of interest in there?” He nodded toward the box.
“I think so,” June answered.
She dug inside looking for the items of interest, and she found them in a smaller box tucked under a folded sweater. June lifted the smaller box out carefully and set it on her lap, opening it.
Holt watched her, eyes narrowed. “What is it?” he asked.
At first, she saw cables and chargers all neatly coiled. Then she lifted a layer of tissue paper and froze. There they were, a laptop and a familiar-looking phone that she’d seen Judy use.
June looked up at him slowly, confusion turning cold in her chest.
“Holt,” she said, and she couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice, “if Judy bolted, or moved to a cabin in the forest, or even left because she wanted to disappear for a while, I can understand her leaving her clothes, shoes, and toiletries.” She pulled the items out one by one.
“But why would she leave her laptop and phone?”
Holt didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flicked to the diner, to the car park, to the road beyond, as if he could feel the shape of danger moving just out of sight.
Then his eyes returned to the box, and June could see him thinking faster than he was speaking, as if he was trying to choose words that didn’t make panic bloom.
“Because maybe we need to keep the possibility that Judy may not have fled, but was taken.” Holt’s eyes narrowed, and a cold chill crept up June’s spine at the implications of that.