June looked up. She glanced around the table and then settled on Willa with an expression that was part apology and part something else entirely.
“When you and Shaun sold your home in Miami before moving to Sandpiper Shores,” June began, “I bought it.”
Willa stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I bought your house,” June repeated calmly. “I couldn’t let you sell the house where Grace and Andy were born. I thought that one day you might want to come back to it, or that the children might want to see where they grew up, and I didn’t want that option closed off forever.” She paused. “I converted it into an Airbnb. The management company handles everything.”
“Mom.” Willa’s voice had lost its edge. “That’s...” She stopped.
“And before you ask,” Carmen added from further along the table, with the particular tone of someone who had been holding a pleasant secret for some time, “your mother has been putting every cent of the rental income into three separate accounts. One for each of your children’s futures.”
Willa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
“Two days before the storm hit,” June continued, her voice picking up pace, “the management company called me. Someone had booked the property for two months. They paid upfront in cash.” June looked at Holt directly. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time because cash bookings through the management company aren’t unusual for that property. It’s a popular listing.”
The table absorbed that in silence.
“But Shaun knew I’d bought the house,” June said quietly.
Holt looked at her as it dawned on him why she thought Victoria was at her Airbnb.
“You think Shaun and Gilbert hid their research at the Airbnb?” Holt guessed.
The words landed in the room like something dropped from a height.
“I think it’s possible,” June said carefully. “Shaun told Willa to look in Miami if anything happened. Judy told me the same thing.”
“If Victoria is as connected as we think she is,” Rad said from across the table. “She’d have found out about the house.”
“That would be my assumption,” June replied.
“Victoria’s gone to Miami to find the last of the evidence to destroy before she and her merry band of misfits disappear for good,” Holt breathed. The final pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
The table erupted into low, overlapping voices.
Holt raised one hand, and the room settled.
“I need the address,” he said, looking at June.
June wrote it on a page from her notepad and slid it across the table to him without a word.
Holt looked at it for a moment. Then he looked at the room.
“This meeting is adjourned,” he told them. “What June has just given us is a significant lead. I’ll have it followed upon immediately.” He looked at each person in turn. “In the meantime, please remember that Victoria is still at large. Alfred and Mrs. Clark are still unaccounted for. That means every precaution we’ve been taking stays in place. Nobody goes anywhere alone. Nobody takes unnecessary risks.” His eyes moved to Willa and then to Margo. “Are we clear?”
A general murmur of agreement moved around the table.
People began to rise. Chairs scraped back. Voices picked up again in the low, urgent register of people who had a great deal to process and were already processing it. Holt stepped to the corner of the room and pulled out his phone, dialing the contact he needed to have the Miami property checked out through the right channels before Victoria could move again if she was there.
The call was brief as the address was passed on and instructions were given. Holt ended the call and then turned back to the room.
It had emptied.
Almost.
June was still seated at the table.
