Chapter 6 #2
“We think the smartwatch was Judy’s,” June told him. “And then Margo found the bracelet at Teacups. I didn’t really get a proper look at it because Rad bagged it before I could.”
Holt gave her a tight smile. “If you had seen it properly, you would’ve recognized it instantly.” She heard the emotion in his voice and knew he was thinking about his sister. “Carly wore it a lot.”
A lump rose in her throat so quickly it hurt. June knew exactly which bracelet he was talking about. She remembered that set all too well, as Abe had given it to Carly when she turned twelve. Carly had been so proud of it.
June gripped the steering wheel more tightly as she pushed memories of her late best friend aside.
“That whole set,” June said quietly, “along with some of your sister’s other things, went missing that day.” Her throat tightened further. “That day we all went to…” She cleared it. “To say goodbye.”
“Yes,” Holt said. “And then I went after your sister because I thought Annie had stolen it.”
June swallowed. “Do you think whoever started the fire dropped the bracelet?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Holt’s voice steadied into the investigative tone she knew so well.
“What I do know is that the theory has to fit the evidence process. Teacups was processed after the fire. The scene would’ve been photographed in stages, the area around the origin point carefully examined, and anything visible near the cooker noted and recovered.
A bracelet wedged under the unit is the kind of thing they should have found unless it wasn’t there at the time. ”
June thought that through. “So you think it was planted.”
“I think that is more likely than the forensic team missing it,” Holt said. “Or someone went into the shop after the cops had cleared out and dropped it accidentally.”
“Do you think it was planted by the person who originally stole it?” June’s eyes widened.
“Possibly.” Holt looked ahead, his expression hardening. “Or someone planted it to point us toward whoever stole it and connect them to the fire or fires, since it was found beneath the cooker believed to have caused the fire at Teacups.”
“But we would have to know who stole the bracelet first,” June said.
Then the thought hit her. She glanced at Holt. “But you already have an idea, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Holt said. “And I’m afraid it may cost me another date.”
June had just started easing into a parking spot in front of the police station when the meaning of that sentence landed.
She hit the brake too hard.
“Ow.” Holt’s shoulder jerked against the seat belt. “I think you just gave me whiplash.”
“You think Victoria stole the jewelry?” June stared at him in shock, ignoring his whiplash comment.
“I think,” Holt said dryly, “that if you brake like that again, I’ll need Lucy sooner than planned.” Then he sighed. “Rad recognized the bracelet. He had seen Sienna Morrison wearing it at the beach a couple of weeks ago.”
June’s eyes widened. “Sienna?”
“As Sienna wasn’t around when the jewelry went missing, that leaves us looking at how it came into her possession,” Holt explained.
“Victoria,” June said quietly.
“It could be Victoria.” Holt nodded. “Or her father. Tom was there that day too.”
Another thought brought a different possibility to June.
“Victoria’s father was there too,” June reminded him. “The man had just had that bank scandal and was accused of looting security deposit boxes.”
“Correct.” Holt unbuckled his seat belt.
“But it could also have been Tom,” June pointed out. “He was always around.”
Holt was already shaking his head. “I doubt Tom would do something like that. He would have had no reason. Tom’s family has always had plenty of money and enough heirlooms of their own to fill a museum.
He was also never particularly interested in jewelry.
” He looked at her. “I don’t think the man has stolen anything, even fries off someone’s plate. ”
“But why wouldn’t Tom say anything if he saw it later?” June asked. “If Victoria or her father took it, she would’ve worn it sometime. Surely Tom would have known it was your sister’s? The two of you were practically raised together.”
Holt stared out the windshield. “Tom never noticed details like jewelry unless someone put it directly in front of his face. And I never reported it stolen.”
That made June glance at him quickly. “No. You wanted to, though.”
“I did.” His jaw tightened. “My mother and uncle forbade me.”
June hesitated.
Then she held up one hand slightly. “Don’t get angry.”
Holt’s eyes narrowed. “That is rarely a promising beginning.”
“I always found it strange,” June admitted carefully, “that your mother and your uncle didn’t want the missing items reported.” The silence beside her deepened. “They were, after all, worth a small fortune.”
Then Holt ran a hand through his hair. “What are you saying?”
June’s heart started beating harder, though she kept her voice measured. “Your sister’s treatments were expensive, Holt. What if…”
He went completely still as the implication hit him. For a second, June regretted saying it at all.
Then Holt let out a slow breath and looked down at his hands.
“After I tore into Carmen and blamed Annie, I was still set on reporting the theft.” His eyes lifted to hers. “My mother and my uncle both told me not to. Let it go. There were bigger things happening, and everyone was grieving.” He swallowed. “At the time, I thought the same thing.”
“This gets stranger by the minute.” June unbuckled her seatbelt and sat back, looking at the police station for a moment.
“It does,” Holt agreed.
“We need to get everyone who is directly involved together. You, me, Rad, Margo, Willa, Carmen, and Zane.” She frowned. “And I think Ace too.”
“No.” His answer was immediate enough to make her turn her head.
“Why not Ace?” June asked, more sharply than she intended. “He’s trustworthy, and he’s family.”
“He is also casually dating Sienna Morrison.” Holt’s brows rose pointedly as he held her gaze.
June blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“And now you do,” Holt said. “We need people who we know are not going to jeopardize what’s turning out to be quite a perplexing puzzle.”
That changed things.
June considered it for all of two seconds. “Then he could be an asset. Another pair of eyes in the Morrison orbit,” she pushed, still trying to include Ace.
“I’ll think about it.” But Holt’s expression remained unconvinced.
“That sounds suspiciously like a no.” June opened her door.
“It sounds like a measured response to a bad idea.” Holt opened his door.
She almost smiled. Then a voice called out across the street.
“Holt. June.”
They both turned.
Harvey was waving at them from near the entrance to his auto repair shop, moving toward them with enough urgency in his stride to erase any thought of ordinary small talk.
June and Holt stopped beside the car and waited.
“I’m glad I caught you before you went into the station,” Harvey said as he reached them. “I’ve got something to show you.”
June exchanged a look with Holt.
“What kind of something?” Holt asked.
“The kind you’ll want to see before too many other people know about it.” Harvey lowered his voice. “One of the farmers near Hollow Pond found something dumped near the road while moving cattle to another pasture. It’s about three miles up from the crash site.”
June felt a chill move over her skin despite the heat already gathering in the day.
Harvey glanced toward his shop. “Come on.”
They followed him across to the auto repair shop and through the front bay, where the smell of oil and hot metal met them. The noise out front faded as Harvey led them deeper inside, through a side section, and then farther back into an older enclosed area of the building.
June had been back there only once before, years ago. It had been a chop shop when his father owned it.
Now it was shut off from the main workshop and kept private for jobs Harvey didn’t want every passing customer peering at.
He opened the last door and waved them through.
June stepped inside and stopped dead.
So did Holt.
Parked in the middle of the space was a pickup truck so similar to Lucy’s that for one wild second June thought it was Lucy’s and that all of last night had somehow folded in on itself.
It was the same color, same general model, and same shape.
Then the differences registered.
The truck looked wrong up close.
The front and rear bumpers had been mangled and knocked out of proper alignment.
The mounting points looked damaged, and the fit was all off.
One taillight housing had been disturbed.
There were marks where identifying badging should have been.
The interior plate on the dashboard was gone.
The door sticker was missing. Anything that could be used to straightforwardly identify the vehicle had been stripped.
“What are we looking at?” June turned slowly toward Harvey.
“This pickup was dumped not too far from Hollow Pond Farm.” He pointed toward the truck.
Holt walked a slow circle around the front end, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t Lucy’s truck.”
“No,” Harvey said. “But whoever handled this wanted it to pass for Lucy’s at a glance.”
June stepped closer, studying the bumper and the paint where the light from the overhead fixtures struck it. “And the bumpers look completely wrong for some reason.”
“They’re wrong.” Harvey nodded, clearly pleased it had been spotted quickly. “They don’t belong to this truck. They’re custom pieces, and I know because I’m the one who customized the originals for Lucy’s pickup.”
June’s stomach dropped.
“Are you sure?” Holt stopped moving and looked sharply at Harvey.
“Absolutely.” Harvey walked to the rear of the truck and crouched slightly, tapping the metal with two fingers.
“Lacey wanted sturdier utility bumpers after she started hauling more veterinary equipment and feed around, plus Lucy liked the cleaner line. I did the work myself. Whoever did this either swapped them out to imitate hers or started with the wrong base vehicle and tried to make it look close enough in bad light.”
“On the hope that it was never found,” Holt finished. “And it’s been stripped so we can’t recognize who originally owned it.”
“That’s right,” Harvey said quietly.
June moved to the passenger side and looked in through the window.
“It looks like whoever used this pickup got it from a chop shop,” she said quietly.
“That is exactly what I thought,” Harvey replied. “All identification has been removed. If the farmer hadn’t spotted it, this thing might have sat out there a while.”
“Who found it?” Holt’s face had gone very still in the way it always did when he was angry enough to become dangerous.
“Benji Colter,” Harvey said. “He was moving cattle across the road to his other pasture and spotted it off the tree line.”
“Wasn’t he the same farmer who reported Dr. Vernon’s car accident?” Holt’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Yes,” Harvey answered.
“So whoever took Lucy’s truck either needed a duplicate or needed to disguise another truck as hers.” June folded her arms tightly.
“Or both,” Holt said.
“That would be my guess.” Harvey nodded.
“Holt,” June said quietly, as a myriad of thoughts spiraled through her mind. “If this was meant to resemble Lucy’s truck, then we may have been looking at the wrong question.”
“Meaning?” He turned his head slightly toward her.
“Meaning perhaps the key is not only whether Lacey was mistaken for Lucy.” June swallowed. “It is whether someone wanted us to believe she was.”
Harvey looked between them, his expression darkening as the thought settled.
“Has anyone else seen the vehicle?” Holt stepped closer to the driver’s door and looked inside again.
“Only me, the farmer, and now you two,” Harvey said. “I had it brought here before I called because I didn’t want word getting around before someone competent laid eyes on it.”
“I need this locked down. No one touches it. No one mentions it outside of whoever absolutely has to know.” Holt straightened and turned to Harvey.
“You’ve got it.” He gave a salute.
“And I’ll need to have a word with Benji Colter,” Holt told Harvey.
“I can get him for you,” Harvey offered. “He and my uncle are good friends, so I know him well.”
“Great, then you can take us to his farm, and we’ll talk to him there.” Holt’s eyes went back to the truck.
“Do you want to go now?” Harvey asked.
“If he’s available,” Holt said.
“I’ll give him a call.” Harvey nodded and headed toward the door to make the call, leaving June and Holt in the hidden bay with the truck and the smell of machine oil and old secrets.
June stood very still for a moment.
“Why on earth would someone need an identical truck to Lucy’s?” June asked Holt.
“To set Lucy up,” Holt said. “Maybe whoever ran Lacey off the road and then thought they had trapped her in the burning vet’s office needed a plan C to get her out of the way.”
June’s eyes widened even more at Holt’s words.