Page 63 of Holden’s Resurrection

“Charleigh’s donating Paul’s life insurance and death gratuity to the Navy SEAL Foundation,” Holden explained.

“So the Towlers will leave her alone,” Micky surmised. “There are other ways. She can keep the money.”

Holden clenched his jaw in an effort to keep his trap shut. This was a no-win situation for him. He didn’t want Charleigh to keep anything of Paul’s, but that was him being a selfish prick. Nix was right, that money would go a long way to setting up Faith. He wanted to know but had refrained from asking why Charleigh hadn’t used that money. Or, maybe she had. The standard death benefit alone was a hundred K tax-free, but Holden didn’t know how much life insurance Paul had taken out. But the way Charleigh made it sound, she hadn’t touched any of it and wouldn’t.

Holden’s phone vibrated, pulling him from his thoughts and the conversation between Nix and Micky.

He glanced at the display and stood.

Rhode.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he told the others and connected the call as he made his way out of the room. “Rhode, what’s going on, man?”

“When I was searching Beatrice’s house, I found a box of papers. I took it with me to look through in case we didn’t find something at Patty’s. It was Paul’s,” Rhode said and Holden’s step faltered.

“And?” Holden asked, even though he had absolutely no interest in hearing about a box of Paul’s shit.

“I went through it. There’s some stuff you and Charleigh need to see.”

Holden braced and inquired, “What kind of stuff?”

“The kind you need to see in person, brother. The bad news is, I’m tied up this week, and you have to know that if I could, I’d break away and drive up this afternoon. But this case needs my full attention and I won’t risk mailing the box. It fucks me to say this because I’m sitting on some important information you all need, but I need seven days, then I’ll be up.”

“Tell me,” Holden ground out.

“Not over the phone. Trust me, Holden. You and Charleigh need to see it.”

“If this is some fucked-up sex tape or pictures of him with other women, Charleigh knows he was cheating on her and I don’t ever need to see that shit.”

“Nothing like that.”

Holden took a deep breath, hoping to clear some of the disdain from his voice when he said, “Honest to God, Rhode, I don’t give the first fuck about some box of Paul’s that his mom kept. And I don’t want anything jacking up what Charleigh and I are building. So I have to ask, what’s in the box?”

“Trust me, you want to look through this box in person.”

“Rhode—”

“A week, brother, and I’ll be up.”

“Fine,” Holden snapped. “What case are you working on?”

“Bad shit, man. Really bad. A thirteen-year-old girl was rescued a month ago. She finally broke and told the police there were two other girls with her. I’m working with a group to go in and get the other girls. We have a lock on their location, but this operation is linked to a bigger cartel, so we have to go in easy.”

“Takeback,” Holden offered.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Nixon told us about the group and asked us if we were all right with him offering up our services to the organization if they needed extra guys. They do good work, dangerous work. Be safe out there.”

“Will do. We’ve put together a great team. See you in a week. In the meantime, get your woman back in your good graces.”

“Trying.”

“Don’t try, Holden, just do it.”

“Copy that.”

The line went dead and Holden pocketed his phone and looked at his shoes.