Page 21 of Silencing Stolen Whispers (Kinsley Aspen #2)

“No, but we are making progress,” Kinsley replied, not willing to release Rebecca Chambliss’ name just yet.

It was only a matter of time before such information hit the news, but Kinsley wanted to make the most of the anonymity.

“I was hoping to ask a few follow-up questions before looking through some of Hannah's belongings.”

“Of course,” Katherine replied, shooting her daughter a glare that basically dared her to object. “We want to do everything we can to help with the investigation.”

“Actually, I’d like to speak with Bailey alone.”

Katherine and William immediately objected to such a request, but Kinsley had counted on Bailey’s need for independence. Kinsley was awarded with a simple nod. Bailey wasn’t about to be coddled by her parents, even if it meant being interviewed by the police without legal representation.

“Bailey, you aren’t thinking straight,” William stressed once more, stepping forward to make his point heard. “One should never voluntarily speak to?—”

“Do you think that I had something to do with Hannah’s murder?” Bailey asked incredulously, tossing her purse back onto the couch in anger. She then pointed a finger at her mother. “Do you? I would never?—”

“We never accused you of such a thing, and I will not stand here and?—”

“No one asked you to, Mom.” Bailey rubbed her face in frustration.

Maybe even exhaustion. Kinsley wasn’t quite sure, but the action caused her cheeks to flush even more.

“Someone killed my sister. I want them to pay, and I don’t care about all the red tape.

You want to lawyer up? Go call a criminal lawyer and delay justice.

It’s always about the two of you, anyway. ”

Kinsley wisely remained silent, allowing the family drama to play out. The parents’ wish for representation was almost certainly a hazard on the job. They were attorneys, after all. They understood the importance of an advocate.

Criminal lawyers had a tendency to muddy the waters during investigations like this one, allowing their clients to only answer specific questions so as not to implicate themselves in any criminal activity.

Kinsley still had a job to do, though. She wouldn’t make it more difficult by agreeing with Mr. and Mrs. Scriven, even though she would have requested representation herself.

Hell, she might one day find herself in this very situation.

“You’re going to do whatever you want, anyway,” Katherine muttered with disappointment. “I think I’ll go lie down. Detective Aspen, my husband can help you with anything you might need.”

Katherine disappeared into the foyer, but Kinsley was still able to observe her as she ascended the curved staircase with the same careful precision that characterized all her movements.

Bailey crossed her arms and waited for her father to leave the formal living room. Her mascara had smudged below her lower lashes, making it appear as if she wore thick eyeliner. Eventually, her father raised both hands, as if he didn’t have the energy to argue with her anymore.

“What is it that you need to ask me?”

“I was hoping for some clarification on something you said the other day.” Kinsley gestured toward the couch, hoping that Bailey would sit down. Those hopes were dashed when she didn’t move an inch. “Fawn Ginkel. That’s the name the woman goes by who offers to take the bar exam for others.”

“What about her?” Bailey tilted her chin just a little higher in defiance. “I already told you that Hannah considered using the woman’s services. Hannah decided against it, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“What you didn’t tell me was that you arranged for them to have a conversation.” Kinsley observed Bailey as her flushed cheeks lost some of their color. “Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“Who told you that I?—”

“It doesn’t matter where we got that piece of information,” Kinsley said as she moved to the couch. She took a seat on the end cushion. “What matters is that you withheld it from us.”

“Because it doesn’t have anything to do with my sister’s murder.”

“And how do you know that, Bailey?” Kinsley once again gestured for Bailey to have a seat.

This time, the woman shoved her purse to the side and sank down on the couch.

Sank might have been a stretch, given that the couch was as hard as cement.

“How do you know that Fawn Ginkel didn’t murder your sister? ”

Bailey folded her hands in her lap as she stared at a spot on the Persian rug, as if it could somehow save her from this conversation.

Kinsley attempted a different approach.

“You facilitated the meeting, Bailey. That alone is enough to bring you in for an official interview,” Kinsley warned, hoping to break through Bailey’s defenses. “But I don’t believe you murdered your sister. So, I need you to help me understand what happened.”

“Look, I heard some woman at the bar offering to take the bar exam for a student.” Bailey shifted her weight on the couch, her nervous energy contained but visible.

“She was hoping the student had some influence with a judge. It was a name I recognized because he’s friends with my parents.

Anyway, I knew Hannah was really stressed about the bar exam.

I mentioned that I might know someone, and one thing led to another.

Well, eventually. It was weird because the woman initially thought I was some kind of cop. ”

Bailey swept her gaze over Kinsley’s face and body in a rather judgmental once-over.It was hard for her not to take offense.

“I don’t look anything like a cop,” Bailey said with a shrug.

“Anyway, that’s when I thought maybe they could come to some kind of agreement.

I arranged a meeting. One meeting. That’s it.

Once Hannah discovered that the woman wanted intimate details about the judge in order to blackmail him if she ever got caught, it was over.

As far as I know, they never spoke again. ”

Kinsley refrained from revealing her knowledge of Fawn Ginkel’s true identity, along with the fact that Hannah and Rebecca Chambliss had been in touch with each other several times after that initial meeting.

The sound of light footsteps on the marble tile was perfectly timed. William appeared, his gaze searching his daughter’s face. While his and his wife’s choices hadn’t always been the best for their daughters, his concern was unmistakable.

“Bailey, where did you go after you left the cabin to inform your parents about Hannah’s death?” Kinsley asked as she stood from the couch.

“I already told you, detective.” Bailey brushed past Kinsley. “I needed some time to myself.”

Bailey was lying through her pearly white teeth, but William stepped forward before Kinsley could push the issue. And it was one that had been bothering her since Thursday.

“You heard my daughter,” William said with a tone almost certainly reserved for the courtroom. Seconds later, the front door slammed shut with a loud thud. “Now, we had Hannah’s belongings put in her bedroom upstairs. If you’ll follow me.”

William led Kinsley up the curved staircase, past several more family photographs and oil paintings of stern-faced ancestors who seemed to judge everyone who passed beneath their gaze.

The upper hallway was carpeted in thick Persian runners that muffled their footsteps, unlike Bailey’s treatment of the front door.

“Here we are,” William announced as he stood in the open doorway. His gaze lowered to the floor, as if he couldn’t bring himself to be reminded of his daughter when she was younger. “I’ll…I’ll be waiting downstairs for you when you’re through.”

Hannah's bedroom could have been a study in controlled perfection. The walls were painted a neutral beige, the furniture expensive but sparse, and not a single personal item was visible on any surface. It came across more like a high-end hotel room than the private space of a teenager.

Hannah’s background check revealed that she had stayed in dorms throughout her undergraduate studies. While she returned home during the summers, the day she started law school was the last time she spent a night at her parents’ house.

Against the far wall, eight cardboard boxes sat in a neat row, each labeled with black marker in what was presumably Hannah's precise handwriting.

Books.

Winter clothes.

Bathroom.

Electronics.

Knickknacks.

Bedding.

Kitchen.

Personal items.

The last box drew Kinsley’s attention. The tape on the seam was neatly cut, yet someone had folded the four flaps back into place.

“Mr. Scriven,” Kinsley called out, hoping to catch him before he descended the staircase. She waited a heartbeat, grateful when he materialized in the doorway. “Just out of curiosity, has anyone else been through these boxes? You? Your wife?”

“Hannah had borrowed a pair of earrings from Bailey before…, well before.” William appeared unfazed by his daughter's request. "She wanted them returned, and we didn't see any issue with that.

Detective, I understand that my daughter can be.

.. unpredictable. She's impulsive, acts on a whim, and often doesn't consider the outcomes of her actions. However, she would never have harmed her sister. Ever.”

Kinsley nodded her understanding, keeping to herself that people made choices that they otherwise wouldn’t in precarious situations. She was living proof of that, but she wouldn’t project her own circumstances onto someone else.The truth of the matter was that Bailey was hiding something.

Whether that something had to do with her twin sister remained to be seen.