Then, without a word, June shoved the notepad and pen back into her purse and stood so suddenly her chair scraped across the boards.
Holt was on his feet at once. “June?”
“Come on.” Without thinking, she pulled his arm to get him moving.
He frowned. “Where are we going?”
“To the vet.” June glanced at him as she hurried them forward.
Holt stopped himself from asking anything else as the look on her face told him enough. He knew that look. He’d seen it before in the middle of hard cases, late-night arguments, impossibleexam questions, and once when she had stood in the kitchen of their apartment and realized she was right about something he desperately wished she were not.
Her mind was moving too fast to explain yet.
So he followed.
The drive was quiet.
Holt didn’t force conversation into it. June sat angled toward the window, one hand closed tightly around the strap of her purse, her thoughts clearly running ahead of the car. The lights of Sandpiper Shores slid past them in ribbons of gold and shadow, storefronts thinning into quieter streets until the new veterinary office came into view.
He parked, and she was already out of the car before the engine had fully gone silent.
June unlocked the building's door, let them in, and relocked it behind them.
The building smelled faintly of paint, antiseptic, and cardboard. It still carried the unfinished feel of a place only partly settled into, with unpacked supplies, stacked boxes, and a silence that belonged to workspaces after hours.
She moved swiftly through the reception area toward the stairs.
“June, what are we doing here?” Holt asked, watching her as she stormed toward the stairs.
“Going to prove a hunch I have,” June told him as he followed her up to Lacey’s office.
June unlocked that too and stepped inside. Holt came in behind her, then shut the door quietly.
The office was still not entirely set up. There were framed certificates waiting to be hung, boxes labeled in black marker, files stacked in careful but temporary order, and a desk that looked functional rather than fully lived in.
June dropped her purse on the desk and scanned the room.
“Okay,” Holt said at last. “What is going on?”
She spun toward him. “We’ve been looking at this whole case wrong.”
His eyes narrowed. “All right. Speak to me.” He glanced around the office again. “And why are we in Lacey’s office?”
“Because I think some people haven’t been exactly honest with us,” June said, already moving toward the boxes along the wall.
He folded his arms loosely. “Let me guess who you mean. I’ll start with Lacey, since we’re standing in her office.”
To his surprise, June nodded instead of dismissing it.
That made him straighten.
“Go on,” she said, motioning with her hand. “There are at least another three or four…” Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe even five or six people that have not been honest with us.”
Holt considered. “Willa. Rad. Margo. Probably my mother. Judy, definitely. Ace, maybe. And now Lacey.” He marked off on his fingers.
“I’m not sure about Ace,” June said. “But yes to all the others you listed.” She shook her head. “I think they kicked over a hornet’s nest when they reopened this case without realizing just how deadly the hive was.”
16
