"Look, June, please don't get angry with me, and I don't want to break her trust," Holt said carefully.
"Whose trust?" June demanded, feeling a cold sensation slice through her chest like ice water.
There was another pause, longer this time, before Holt spoke the words that sent a blast of shock so intense through June's system that her knees almost buckled.
"Willa." Holt's words felt like a shotgun blast to June’s nervous system. “Willa has also been targeted.”
June had to brace herself against the hospital wall to keep from collapsing as the implications of that single word crashed over her.
The sterile hospital hallway suddenly felt like the most dangerous place in the world, and June realized that the coordinated attack on the veterinary clinic might have been just the beginning of something far worse than any of them had imagined.
12
HOLT
The acrid smell of smoke and chemical residue hung heavy in the evening air as Holt stood outside the damaged veterinary clinic, surveying the scene that had nearly claimed two lives just hours earlier. The building looked like a war zone, with blackened walls, shattered windows, and the twisted remains of what had once been a thriving medical practice.
Willa stood beside him in her fire captain's gear, her expression grim as she examined the exterior damage. Rad was already photographing the scene from multiple angles, while Ace moved around the perimeter with the methodical precision of someone who had investigated countless fires over his career.
Tom approached from where he'd been coordinating with the other first responders, his face etched with the kind of exhaustion that came from managing a major emergency in a small town where everyone knew everyone else.
"Tom," Holt said quietly, stepping away from the others, "I need you to hang back from decision-making or primary investigative steps."
Tom's expression immediately shifted to one of hurt and confusion. "Holt, surely you don't think my son had anything to do with this? Clive might have made some poor choices about his car accident, but he would never try to murder two innocent women."
Holt felt the familiar weight of information he couldn't share pressing down on his shoulders. The evidence they'd uncovered about Victoria's involvement in the original car accident, combined with Clive's obvious attempts to cover for his mother, painted a picture that Tom wouldn't want to see.
"Tom, please," Holt said carefully, keeping his voice low enough that the others couldn't overhear. "I understand your position, but Clive is still connected to Lacey's first accident. Now there's been a second attempt on her life, and I can't afford to have any potential conflicts of interest compromising this investigation."
The words hit Tom like a physical blow, and Holt could see the moment the police chief realized how the situation must look to an outside investigator. Tom was quiet for a long moment, staring at the damaged building with the expression of a man watching his family's reputation crumble before his eyes.
"You're right," Tom said finally, his voice heavy with resignation. "I can see how this looks, even if I know in my heart that Clive wouldn’t be capable of something like this."
He straightened his shoulders with visible effort, falling back on his professional training to maintain composure in an impossible situation.
"I'll go talk to the squad and get this place properly cordoned off," Tom continued. "Make sure no curious locals try to nose around after we're all gone. The last thing we need iscontaminated evidence or someone getting hurt exploring a structurally damaged building."
"That's a good idea," Holt agreed, feeling genuine sympathy for the man who was caught between his duty as police chief and his loyalty to his family. "Thank you, Tom."
As Tom walked away to coordinate with the other officers, Holt turned back to the investigative team that was waiting for his direction. The gravity of what they were dealing with was becoming clearer with each piece of evidence they uncovered.
"All right," Holt said, addressing Willa, Rad, and Ace. "Let's walk through this systematically. We need to understand exactly how this attack was carried out and what materials were used."
They entered the clinic through the front door, which showed clear signs of having been barricaded from the outside. The metal door frame was bent and twisted where the firefighters had eventually managed to force entry, but the scratches and dents around the lock mechanism told the story of someone using tools to secure the door from the exterior.
The interior of the clinic was a scene of controlled chaos. The main examination room where Lacey and Margo had been working was filled with smoke residue and the lingering chemical smell of whatever gas had been used to incapacitate them.
"There," Rad said, pointing to a spot near the reception desk where a metallic canister lay on its side. "That's one of the gas canisters Margo described."
Holt approached the device carefully, pulling on latex gloves before examining it more closely. The canister was approximately the size of a large soup can, with a simpletrigger mechanism that would have released its contents when activated.
"I need photographs of this in place before we move it," Holt instructed, and Rad immediately began documenting the canister's position from multiple angles.
As Holt studied the device, a cold feeling of recognition settled in his stomach. This wasn't some improvised weapon cobbled together from household chemicals. The construction, the trigger mechanism, the professional grade of the canister itself all pointed to something that would be available only through law enforcement or military suppliers.
"This is police-grade equipment," Holt said aloud, his voice carefully neutral even though his mind was racing through the implications. "The kind of thing used for crowd control or tactical operations."
Willa looked up from where she was examining burn patterns on the wall. "How would someone get their hands on something like that?"
