“Then we can open a full official investigation with proper resources,” Willa agreed, extending the note toward him. “Margo received a very similar note as well.”
Holt paused before taking the note. “Do you have her note too?”
“Not yet, no.” Willa shook her head. “I was planning to stop by Teacups before lunch and collect it from her. Margo also believes that what happened ten years ago was handled incorrectly and that we never caught the real perpetrator.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “She was dating Lieutenant Travis Markham at the time of his death.” Her jaw clenched, and her eyes darkened. “What worried me about that was that Shaun and Travis weren’t even supposed to be on duty that day. But there had been an accident the day before, and four of the summer firefighters were booked off.”
Now Holt really thought this had been planned. “Oh?” He glanced at the files. “That is not in the report.”
“No one thought it relevant at the time,” Willa said. “The accident the other firefighters had was a hit-and-run. They were T-boned on the outskirts of town by a tractor, and the driver of the tractor disappeared.”
“Is there a police report?” Holt asked.
Willa nodded. “There should be. Shaun asked me if I’d mind filling it in, as I was just doing light admin from home for the fire department at the time because my kids and I were all down with a bad summer flu. I wrote out the report for Chief Morrison.”
“So you think that Shaun and Travis were meant to be in that cabin along with Gilbert Fry?” Holt’s heart picked up speed like it always did as he dug into a case. And this was a case. The more he spoke to Willa, the more convinced he became. Holt was still a bit vague as to why Tom and Nigel hadn’t seen all this. He knew Tom, and the man would not have overlooked these details.
“Yes,” Willa said, her eyes darkening some more and looking haunted. “And here is another weird coincidence, and I say coincidence because that’s what both Chief Morrison and Nigel said it was…”
Holt leaned forward. “Which was?”
“All four of the firefighters locked in the cabin with Gilbert Fry,” Willa told Holt, “were the first responders at Cynthia’s accident.”
That information made Holt’s eyebrows shoot up with renewed interest, but before he could respond with follow-up questions, the sharp wail of emergency sirens began blaring throughout the fire station. The sound of rapid footsteps and urgent voices filled the building as firefighters responded to the call.
“We’ll have to continue this conversation later,” Willa said, immediately shifting into professional mode as she stood and reached for her gear. “I need to respond to this call.”
Holt felt his investigative instincts kicking in. “I’d like to come with you to observe the scene.”
“Director Dillinger, you’re supposed to be on medical leave,” Willa reminded him as she pulled on her protective jacket.
“It’s Holt,” he pointed out before insisting. “This could be directly related to our investigation.” He held her gaze that looked so familiar to him, as if he’d met her before, and he remembered she’d said the same thing when she’d first met him. He shook it off. “If there’s a connection to the current pattern, I need to see the scene firsthand.”
The dispatcher’s voice crackled over the intercom system: “Forest fire reported at Henderson’s Farm.”
Willa’s eyes widened with obvious alarm, and Holt immediately noticed her reaction.
“What is it?” Holt asked, concerned by her expression.
“My mother and Lacey went to Henderson’s this morning,” Willa said, her professional composure cracking slightly. “They planned to shop for fresh produce, pick strawberries, and have a late breakfast at the farm restaurant.”
Holt felt his heart jolt with sudden, intense concern. June was potentially in immediate danger, and every protective instinct he’d ever possessed surged to the surface.
“Now I’m definitely coming with you,” Holt said with absolute finality, already moving toward the exit.
17
JUNE
The call from Lacey had been exactly what June needed. After the emotional upheaval of seeing Holt again and the stress of yesterday’s fire, the prospect of spending a quiet morning with one of her oldest friends felt like a gift from heaven.
She hadn’t seen Lacey Peltz in over a year, not since Shaun’s memorial service the previous year. Life had a way of pulling people in different directions, but their friendship had endured for decades, built on the foundation of those magical teenage summers when June’s family had first started coming to Sandpiper Shores.
June stood in front of the mirror in the guest bedroom, adjusting her light blue cotton shirt and checking her appearance one final time. She’d chosen capri jeans and comfortable deck shoes, knowing they’d be walking through the strawberry fields for the better part of the morning. The excitement of their planned adventure had helped push thoughts of Holt to the background, at least temporarily.
It was a shame Lucy and Carmen couldn’t join them. Both women had worked late into the night after yesterday’s fire,tending to injured campers and coordinating medical supplies. They deserved a break, but duty called. At least Carmen had given her permission to borrow her car for the trip to Henderson’s Fresh Farm Market.
June smiled to herself as she grabbed her purse and wide-brimmed hat. She loved Henderson’s farm—the sprawling operation offered everything from pick-your-own strawberries and vegetables to a charming restaurant that served farm-to-table breakfasts. If Grace and Becky had been here instead of at their sleepover, she would have brought them along. The farm offered activities for all ages, from toddlers chasing chickens to teenagers learning about sustainable agriculture.
Walking to Carmen’s car, June clicked the remote to unlock the doors and moved to toss her purse and hat onto the passenger seat. The moment she opened the car door, a clutch of fear gripped her stomach like a vise, and a flash of panic made her hands tremble.
