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 stickerwas 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.”
