Page 26 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kinsley Aspen October Friday — 6:23 pm
“Aspen, are you going to Crosby’s annual bonfire tomorrow night?”
“Are you bringing that moonshine of yours?” Kinsley asked, raising her voice so Hess could hear her on the other side of the glass partition. She glanced up from Rachel Hanson’s phone records. A printed version of the numbers was easier for Kinsley to cross-reference. “Judging by that smile of yours, I'll be there.”
“Admit it, Aspen. You’re going to miss me.”
The faint muffled sound of the elevator arriving on their floor could be heard, and Hess’ laughter faded away. She was going to miss him. Hess had been one of the first detectives to welcome her to the fold. He was old school, but he had worked his fair share of homicides. He had a method that worked for him, and she had taken tips along the way.
Kinsley glanced up when one of the fluorescent bulbs flickered, but it went right back to being steady. She gave it two weeks before it completely went out. Her gaze slid to the murder board. She and Alex could very well still be staring at the same timeline without any additional leads next year. There were too many cold cases on their desks as it was, and she didn’t want to add another.
With that thought in mind, Kinsley turned up the country music to keep her company. She wouldn’t be staying for too long, especially since she and Alex needed to go back to the hospital tomorrow morning. Gage Baird would have had time to process the events that unfolded before and after his accident. There could even be a chance that he recalled what he had wanted to speak with his mother about last week.
Two other detectives occupied the far side of the room, but they were too engrossed in their own work to be bothered by the tunes. Dobbs and Crosby wouldn’t be in for another couple of hours. As for Haugen and Shane, they probably wouldn’t report to the station until Monday.
As Kinsley settled back in and scanned the list of calls, she noted the number of times Rachel and Sebastian had spoken on a daily basis. The man and his lawyer had canceled their interview earlier today, which only served to irritate her further. Was Hanson avoiding her questions out of guilt? Covering for his brother?
Jack Hanson had motive and opportunity.
Kinsley jotted down a few more questions she would like to pose to Sebastian Hansen. She would be forced to give the list of inquiries to the man’s attorney, but eventually, said lawyer would advise his client to respond.
On the bright side, she had one less concern knowing her father wasn’t representing Hanson. He had chosen an upscale law firm from Bismarck.
Kinsley hovered her pen above the paper, using its tip to circle the calls Rachel made to the farm's landline—twice a week, every week, at the same time.
Tobias didn't carry a cell phone and was probably at the hospital with Louise and Douglas right now. Kinsley glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that visiting hours would likely be over by the time she reached the hospital. She understood what it took to run a farm, so she wasn’t concerned about the fact that JJ hadn’t been to the hospital. At least, to her knowledge, no such visit had taken place. Maybe they should be looking more into J.J. Callaghan's relationship with Gage and Rachel.
The sudden vibration of Kinsley’s cell phone on the desk jolted her from her thoughts. She picked it up while lowering the country music playing on her computer speakers. The display read her mother's name, and she couldn't help but smile.
“You did my dishes, didn't you?”
Margaret didn't laugh, and Kinsley's hand slowly came to rest on the small stack of papers. “Mom? Is everything okay?”
“Did you speak with a journalist named Beck Serra today?” Margaret inquired cautiously. “He stopped by your townhouse, and I directed him to the station.”
Kinsley leaned back in her chair, too stunned to immediately respond.
“I told your father, of course. He doesn’t seem to be too concerned about it, but I find it odd that a journalist would come to your home.”
“Did Mr. Serra give a reason as to why he wanted to speak with me?” Kinsley had managed to shake off her shock, but that sinking sensation in her stomach remained behind. “Did he upset you?”
“No, no,” Margaret said, though Kinsley caught the underlying tone of tension. “He was very respectful. He mentioned that he had met with you a couple of times, and he wanted a comment regarding Calvin Gantz’s missing persons investigation. I guess someone reopened the inquiry into his whereabouts. Again, I told your father all of this, but he doesn’t seem too concerned about it.”
Kinsley’s father wouldn’t be worried about the past coming back to haunt them, because he had no idea the horrifying deeds two of his children had done twelve months ago. She tightened her grip on the phone and closed her eyes to try and even out her breathing. Knowing better than to let her mother hear how unsettling the situation was, Kinsley forced a lightness to her voice.
“Dad’s right, Mom. Beck Serra is the journalist who Dad gave that one-on-one interview with during the Gantz trial.” Kinsley's throat constricted upon saying aloud the man’s name, but she managed to stay composed. “It’s obvious the man doesn’t know boundaries, but I was out of the station working a case most of the day. Maybe Serra thought I was home. Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go. Oh, and thanks for doing the dishes.”
Kinsley lowered her phone, but she was unable to push down the fear and anxiety that had resulted from hearing her mother’s words. Someone had reopened the missing persons inquiry into Calvin Gantz, but who? Before she could reach for her desk phone to contact the proper division, Izzy came around the glass partition with a folder in hand.
“I ran into Alex when he was leaving the station. He mentioned you were still up here,” Izzy said as she came to a stop beside the two desks. Much like Wally, the woman was a contradiction. She had a rough exterior, yet she always carried a fragrance of lavender everywhere she went. “I thought you should know that I swung by the Baird crash site since I was out that way earlier today. I know you weren’t convinced about it being an accident, but the lack of skid marks matches up with the brakes going out on his truck.”
Kinsley forced a smile as she tried to mentally switch gears. It was difficult, but the interruption gave her time to put things in perspective. If Serra had been the one to get the missing persons case reopened, it would soon be closed. In the eyes of the law, it wasn’t illegal to up and move one’s life to another city or state. The man’s passport and most of his clothes were gone, and any officer would take that to mean Gantz left town voluntarily.
“Thanks, Izzy.” Kinsley pushed back from her desk. “I appreciate you double-checking the site.”
“One more thing,” Izzy said as she handed off a folder. “I also took another look at the location where Rachel Hanson crashed headfirst into a tree. About a half mile from that location, I found some skid marks. I can’t guarantee that they are from the night in question or if they had anything to do with her being forced off the road, but I took pictures of them just in case. They belong to tires from a pickup truck. Pretty standard ones, too.”
“A pickup truck?”
“Don’t get too excited,” Izzy warned as she held up a hand. “Like I said, the tires are standard, and the skid marks were a half mile back from the crash site. They might not have anything to do with the Hanson investigation. Anyway, I’m joining Alex and Wally across the street. You ready to call it a night?”
“You go ahead,” Kinsley said without hesitation. She needed a minute to get the ground back under her feet after the phone call with her mother. “There are still a few things I need to take care of, but I'll be over soon.”
Izzy rapped her knuckles on the desk before taking her leave. She veered around the glass partition and proceeded down the hallway. Kinsley stood from her chair, needing some caffeine or sugar. She opted for sugar and opened her top drawer to fish out some quarters for the vending machine.
As she shut the drawer with her thigh, she was caught off guard to find Shane striding down the hall from the opposite direction of the elevator. She recalled his unease with tight spaces, but she had never given it much thought before. He had served five years in the Marines, and he rarely discussed that time of his life.
Shane's strides faltered when he spotted her at her workstation. Their gazes locked, and he briefly nodded at her in acknowledgment before continuing to his desk. Regardless that he attempted to ease the tension between them, it still settled in the air.
Between Izzy’s brief visit and Shane’s presence, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing for Kinsley to take a moment and mull over her options when it came to Beck Serra. She didn’t want to call attention to herself by placing a call to the officer investigating the man’s disappearance. She wasn’t sure what she had done to cause Serra to take such an interest in her life, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it this evening.
What she could do was make amends with Shane…or at least attempt to do so. She slowly closed the distance between them and leaned against Haugen's desk. Shane had been in the process of removing his jacket. He silently took a seat and used his black boot to turn himself so that he was facing her.
There was no judgment in his blue eyes…eyes that were bluer than hers. If anything, she perceived deep confusion, but it wasn’t like she could ever satisfy that need. She would never place him in the position to be the one to put her in cuffs.
Kinsley glanced down at the quarters, struggling to find the right words. That pesky layer of hair fell into her face, and she tucked the wayward strands behind her ear for something to do to bide her some more time.
“Kin,” Shane said softly. “You don’t have to say anything. We covered it all last year. There are no hard feelings, alright?”
“Between the trial, my father, and…well, I should have handled everything better. I didn’t, and I’m truly sorry.”
“Is this the 'it's me, not you' speech?” Shane gave her a lopsided grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Like I said, you don’t need to go there.”
Despite how different they were in their personal lives, she had truly thought they could have a future. Her actions last October had changed the course of her life, and with it, his. He had respected her decision to end their relationship, and never once had he pushed her for more of an explanation than she had been willing to give.
“I need you to know that I don’t regret our time together.”
“No regrets here, either.” Shane jostled his knee as he veered their conversation to safer ground. “You’re going to need to give me more tips about Haugen, though. I don’t understand how a man can eat an entire meal, two milkshakes, and a slice of apple pie and still be hungry thirty minutes later. It makes absolutely no sense.”
“And Sam is probably over at The Bucket right now complaining to Alex that you’re too straight and narrow.” Kinsley rattled the quarters in her hand as she pushed herself away from Haugen’s desk. “Oh, and the black unmarked cruiser with the dent is ours. No more signing it out. I had the navy blue car detailed this afternoon. That’s your ‘welcome to the department’ gift.”
“If I have my way, we’ll only ever use my personal vehicle. That way, I know it's maintained and won't smell like dog shit."
Shane’s words caused Kinsley to slow her departure until she came to a stop near the glass partition. Something about his statement triggered a memory from last week. Slowly, she turned to face Shane, who was in the process of turning on his computer.
“Shane, I have a question for you. If you ordered a new set of brakes, how long would it take you to install them?”
A playful grin tugged at the corner of Shane’s mouth.
“Come on, Kinsley, you know me better than that.”
Gage had practically grown up on his grandfather’s farm. He would have the same mentality, so what reason could have possibly forced him to put off such an important task?
“And if someone else ordered brake pads but couldn’t find the time to give them to you?”
“I’d make time to pick them up.”
Unless Douglas hadn’t wanted Gage to have them. Was that the reason that he had wanted to speak with his mother? Had he been able to discern that Douglas was involved with Rachel’s death?
Izzy mentioned tires a half mile away from where Rachel had been run off the road. Douglas owned a pickup truck.
Kinsley’s mind continued to race, attempting to fit all the pieces of the investigation into place. She thought back to the night she called Noah. The two of them had gone through several scenarios in a desperate attempt to protect themselves. They kept coming back to the same one—the one that contained a diversion.
“And if you thought the police suspected you of a crime, what would be your first reaction?”
Shane leaned back in his chair, spinning it with his black boot. Once he was facing her again, his playful grin faded into a more serious expression. He understood her inquiries had to do with her case.
“A person’s first instinct is to push the blame onto someone else,” Shane said with a dismissive shrug. She doubted that Shane had ever committed a criminal act over the course of his life. His standards for himself and others were high, and he never would have understood her decision last year. “Is that what you think happened in the Hanson case?”
Douglas had consistently pushed the theory that Sebastian and Jack Hanson had killed Rachel for the money. What if the same motive applied, but in a completely different manner?
Kinsley hurried to her desk. She slapped the quarters down next to the phone records. She began to sort through the mound of papers until she had to resort to her email. She finally located Tobias Zayn’s will, which had been emailed to her by Tobias himself. Louise hadn’t been a part of her father’s will at all until a couple of months ago. With both Gage and Rachel out of the picture, Louise stood to gain a financial windfall.
“I think you might have just helped me piece together who murdered Rachel Hanson.” Kinsley grabbed her sweater, keys, and cell phone. When she reached the glass partition, she stopped to voice aloud one more thing. “Welcome to homicide, Shane.”