Chapter 1 #2
“Where is it?” Holt asked the man, growing impatient at Benny's apparent dragging of his feet, when the man probably knew full well that if an FBI agent was asking about the car, they needed information on it.
“That one is already crushed,” Benny said. “It was done as a priority first thing this morning.”
Holt stiffened as the implications of this car’s accident just got darker and darker. “Crushed?” Holt repeated.
Benny nodded once. “First thing this morning,” Benny repeated.
Holt’s jaw tightened. “That vehicle was delivered last night,” Holt said, glancing at all the other vehicles lined up waiting to be crushed. “Is it normal that it would’ve been crushed right away?”
Benny shrugged, “It was a rush job,” Benny said, glancing at his clipboard once again. “The client paid extra to have it crushed as a priority first thing this morning. They actually wanted it done when it arrived late yesterday afternoon, but we couldn’t do it.”
Holt held his gaze. “Could I see the intake paperwork?” Holt demanded.
“I’d like to know who ordered it to be crushed immediately as this car is part of an ongoing investigation.
” It wasn’t an actual lie. They were investigating Lacey’s accident, and any car that had that sort of front-end damage that Clive’s car had would’ve been scrutinized.
Benny’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you have a warrant?” he asked.
Holt answered honestly. “Not at this moment,” he told Benny. “But you can cooperate voluntarily.”
Benny shook his head. “No,” he declined to cooperate. “I don’t hand paperwork out without a warrant. That is our policy.”
Holt held his gaze, letting a short silence sit between them. Holt didn’t need to threaten. He needed Benny to feel the weight of refusing.
June stepped forward, her eyes pinning Benny. “If there’s an active inquiry, and you’re subpoenaed, you don’t want it to look like you resisted reasonable cooperation.” She glanced pointedly around the yard. “You look like you do a lot of work for different towns around here.”
“I do,” Benny acknowledged.
“I’m sure a lot of these cars are, shall we say…” June let the words drop off and raised an eyebrow. “Not cars you want the FEDS climbing all over.”
“I run a legitimate business,” Benny huffed and straightened his shoulders.
“I’m sure you do,” June told him. “I’m sure, too, that you want to keep that stellar reputation. What would it look like if you were seen to not be cooperating with us?”
Benny looked at June for a while. “Look, I want to cooperate. But I can’t give you clients’ information without the warrant.”
Holt saw Benny’s answers as an apology and believed he was really just upholding the company’s policy.
Holt breathed out slowly.
“All right,” Holt said. “Can you at least show us the vehicle?”
Benny blinked. “Sure.” He nodded. “But I don’t know what use it’s going to be as it’s scrap now.”
“I still need to see it.” Holt nodded.
Benny turned toward Dale and held out his clipboard. “Dale, can you take this and put it in the office?”
Dale took the clipboard quickly. “Yes, sir,” he said, and walked off toward the office building.
“This way,” Benny said and indicated for them to follow him.
Benny led them to a row of crushed cubes stacked two high. He stopped and pointed. “That’s the one,” Benny said. “I know because I do the priority crushes myself.”
Holt stepped closer.
The cube sat in the sun like a heavy confession. In places, paint still clung to metal. A fragment of a headlight lens glittered like a piece of ice. The shape was wrong, the car’s identity flattened into something anonymous, and Holt felt a cold frustration settle in his chest.
This was why he had come early, as he feared that Clive might panic and do something stupid like this.
June stood beside him, her shoulders tight. She didn’t reach out, didn’t touch the cube, but Holt saw her eyes moving, searching for anything that might still speak to them. A shred of evidence that might still be there that pointed to this being the car that had run Lacey off the road.
Holt leaned slightly, careful not to touch. He scanned for a plate fragment, a sticker, anything that could confirm beyond doubt. He saw a strip of metal with a partial decal, too crumpled to read clearly, but familiar enough to match the photographs Harvey had given them.
Holt exhaled slowly. “That’s it,” Holt said quietly. “This is Clive’s car, and anything we might have gotten from it is gone.”
Benny shifted his weight. Holt looked up and saw something in the man’s expression that had not been there before, a discomfort that suggested Benny knew exactly why Holt was here, even if he did not know the details.
“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Benny apologized.
“Did Clive order this car crushed immediately?” June asked Benny before Holt could say anything.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter,” Benny said politely. “But as I said, I can’t disclose anything without the warrant.”
“Then we’ll be back with one this afternoon,” June told him, her tone of voice held hints of a threat. “And that paperwork better not have gone missing or have been tampered with.”
Just then, Benny’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “Sorry, I need to take this.” He looked in the direction they came from. “Dale will let you out.”
Benny stepped away, walking a few yards off, his voice dropping as he answered the call.
“What now?” June asked quietly.
Holt stared at the cube again, feeling the pressure of decisions piling up. He lowered his voice. “Now I build the truth without the car,” Holt said.
June’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How?”
Holt turned his head to look at her. “By first getting a warrant to see who ordered the rush crush, and then we start by asking them why.”
June nodded slowly. “And what really happened to Clive’s car?”
Holt nodded. “Yes,”
“We also need to get Harvey to put his overheard conversation into a formal statement,” June pointed out.
“Agreed,” Holt said as they started back the way they came.
“June, I have to tell you that I haven’t told Tom about what Harvey told me,” Holt warned her. “I don’t want him to know until we’re certain. I’ve also asked him to distance himself from Lacey’s case until we know if Clive’s car was used to run her off the road.”
June nodded once, and Holt felt a small relief in his chest. June understood the line he was walking. She understood the weight of Tom’s position. She also understood that Holt was trying to protect Tom from a truth that could rip his family apart.
“I completely understand.” June’s voice softened slightly.
They walked back to the car, and Holt noted that Dale was already at the gate waiting for them.
Holt opened the passenger door for June, and she slid in, buckling her seatbelt. Holt walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. The interior smelled faintly like June’s shampoo, something clean and familiar, and Holt’s chest tightened in a way he did not appreciate.
They drove to the gate and stopped as Dale moved to the driver’s window.
Holt lowered it slightly. “Thank you for opening the gate. Please remind Benny I’ll be back with a warrant.”
Dale nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yes, sir,” Dale said and tapped the side of the window.
Something dropped onto Holt’s lap. A folded piece of paper.
Holt frowned at the man who saluted and said, “Have a good day now.”
Holt nodded and didn’t immediately grab whatever the note was, realizing Dale had probably done something he was not supposed to. When they were through the gate and onto the road, the yard falling away behind them, June pointed to the note.
“What is that?” June asked.
“I’m not sure,” Holt said. “But I thought I wouldn’t ask in case Dale wasn’t supposed to drop it in the window.”
June glanced back, and just before they were about to turn back onto the main road, she reached across the center console, her movement careful, as if she didn’t want to startle Holt.
Her fingers brushed Holt’s forearm. While the contact was brief, it still sent a sharp jolt up Holt’s arm.
His breath caught before he could stop it, but he managed to keep his eyes on the road, his hands steady, and his face neutral.
But inside, something shifted. A memory of June’s hand in his, years ago.
A memory of the way she used to touch him without thinking, like it was natural, like it was safe.
It had never stopped affecting him. It had only become easier to pretend it didn’t.
June unfolded the paper carefully while Holt was still fighting the way his pulse had changed until he heard June’s sharp intake of breath.
He glanced toward her, and June’s eyes were huge as she stared at the piece of paper.
“What does it say?” Holt asked, his voice steady even as his body betrayed him.
June didn’t answer immediately. She stared at the paper for a long moment, and Holt watched her out of the corner of his eye. June’s expression shifted from confusion to something colder, something more certain.
“I think what Harvey overheard last night is the truth,” June said quietly.
Holt’s chest tightened. “June,” Holt said, his voice low, “what does the paper say? What is it?”
June turned the paper toward him. “I think Dale photocopied the order for us.”
Holt glanced at it quickly, and then nearly ran them off the road when he saw the name written on the rush crush line orders and payment made by: Victoria Morrison.
Holt felt the world narrow for a moment, not because he was surprised, but because it made too much sense.
It made the wrong kind of sense.
Holt swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and he felt June’s gaze on him, steady and searching.
Behind them, the junkyard disappeared in the rearview mirror, but the note sat between them like a live wire.
And Holt knew, with a cold certainty, that this was no longer just about a wrecked car.
It was about who had been willing to pay to erase a story before anyone could read it.