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.
