Page 27 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kinsley Aspen October Friday — 7:21 pm

The low, constant pulse of The Bucket was typical for a Friday night. Engaging conversations were occasionally interrupted by bursts of raucous laughter, with a sporadic outburst from someone who wouldn’t be driving home this evening. Tap had very strict rules for those who chose to drink beyond their threshold at his establishment. Even so, every table was occupied, and there wasn’t an empty stool to be found.

The door closed behind Kinsley, drowning out the night's chill. She had jogged across the street in an effort to save time. Giving her lungs a chance to ease the burning left behind, she quickly sought out the back booth where Alex sat with Wally and Izzy. His gaze never once veered from something or someone at the bar, so Kinsley raised her arm to grab his attention. She had hoped to avoid weaving through the crowded tables.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that her luck hadn’t returned. She followed his gaze to Laura sitting at the bar. The woman was twirling the stem of her wine glass while laughing at something her companion said without a thought to the man nursing his broken heart in the corner booth.

Under normal circumstances, Kinsley would have ignored the callous manner in which Laura was handling the situation with Alex. What had taken place between the two of them was private. Kinsley had no business butting into their personal lives, and she reminded herself of that fact as she made her way over to the bar.

She and Alex had a case to close, and petty behavior didn’t deserve to be awarded with attention. It would have been best to leave well enough alone, but Laura’s companion wasn’t someone easily ignored.

“Serra.” Kinsley shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweater. She didn’t want him to notice that her fingers had curled into the palms of her hands. “I need to speak with you in private.”

Beck had crossed the line by showing up at her home. The gleam in his eyes set her on edge, but she didn’t break their stare. She didn’t want any part of his twisted game.

“Watch my drink for me?” Beck asked Laura, whose interest was now on Kinsley. “I’ll be right back.”

She stepped aside to give him space, but she didn’t follow directly behind him. Instead, she turned to Laura to give a not-so-friendly warning.

“Serra is a bottom feeder, Mitchell. Be careful or he’ll swallow you whole.”

Kinsley turned before glancing toward the back booth. Alex was staring at her with interest. He had complete faith in her that she wouldn’t say the wrong thing, and such trust hadn’t been easy for him to give. It had been earned and built over time. The fact that Laura had discarded him with such ease made Kinsley sick to her stomach. It took every ounce of strength she had to walk away.

By the time she had made it to the front entrance, Beck was already holding open the door. She stepped outside, and the night air wrapped around her like a cold, wet blanket. The streetlights cast eerie pools of varying yellow hues on the damp pavement, but it was the dim lighting of the bar through the front windows that afforded her the ability to observe Beck’s facial features.

“I’m not going to mince words, Serra. You are never—under any circumstances—to show up at my home again.”

Beck's lips curled into a small smile. He seemed unfazed by her words as much as he was by the cold gust of wind blowing down the street.

“Well, Detective Aspen, seeing as you were the arresting officer for Calvin Gantz, I would have assumed you'd want to make a statement on record.” Beck held up a finger and tsked his tongue in acknowledgment. “Wait. My bad. You don’t like talking to the press, do you? That job falls to your partner. I guess I’ll mosey back into the bar and ask him for a statement.”

It was the second time this evening that Kinsley chose to remain silent. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep suppressing her opinions.

“From your non-reaction, I take it you already know that a distant cousin of Gantz seemed really concerned over the phone about the fact that he had up and abandoned his property. Of course, I encouraged her to reach out to the police."

“Of course. Being such the good Samaritan that you are,” Kinsley pointed out as she dug her nails into the palms of her hands. While she was now in possession of how the missing persons investigation had been reopened, Beck’s motives remained unclear. “You seem awfully obsessed with Calvin Gantz, Mr. Serra. I might even label it disturbing.”

“What is disturbing is that an innocent man—acquitted by a jury of his peers—up and disappeared without a trace. The Fallbrook Police Department doesn’t appear to be concerned, either. I feel the public has a right to know that—”

“Kin, is everything alright here?”

Kinsley had spotted Shane crossing the street. Serra, on the other hand, had been so caught up in his little speech that he hadn’t noticed someone approaching them. Her heart hammered in her chest at the possibility of Serra suspecting she had something to do with Gantz’s disappearance.

A sense of dread settled in her stomach.

No one had been around when the shooting took place or when Noah had arrived on the scene. The same could be said for when she had broken into Gantz’s residence to grab his clothes and passport. She and Noah had also taken additional precautions when placing the man’s body in the trunk of his car and driving it to Terrapin Lake, where it now rested at the bottom of the large body of water.

Not one witness.

Serra somehow had Kinsley questioning her own sanity.

“Everything is fine, Shane,” Kinsley responded with a tight smile. “I was just giving Serra advice on the proper way to ask for a comment from a detective.”

“And seeing as I have now been properly chastised, I'll be heading back inside to enjoy the rest of my evening,” Beck said wryly, never breaking eye contact with her. “It's been... enlightening, Detective Aspen.”

Beck finally glanced toward Shane, but neither man decided to introduce themselves. Beck finally disappeared through the front entrance of The Bucket, leaving several dark thoughts swirling in her mind.

“Kin?”

“I’m fine.” Kinsley forced a smile. “Really. He has been a pain in my ass since the trial.”

“I take it that was Beck Serra?”

Shane had still been sharing her bed when Serra’s article regarding his interviews with her father and Gantz had been published in the national newspapers. Beck had no doubt been paid some pretty pennies for such an exclusive.

“The one and only,” Kinsley replied sardonically as she took a step toward the entrance. Shane beat her to it and opened the door for her. “I’ve got to grab Alex. We need to head to the hospital. And Shane?”

By this time, Kinsley was standing just inside the door. She waited until it had shut completely, sealing out the cold, and she had his full attention.

“I truly appreciate the help tonight.”

“Anytime.”

There was a promise in his voice that she would go out of her way to avoid, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the sentiment. She flashed him a genuine smile this time before threading her way through the crowded tables. She ignored those at the bar, not wanting to engage in a staring contest with Serra. The closer she got to the booth, the louder Alex and Wally were in their discussion about the depth players of the Minnesota Vikings football team. He spotted her approaching the booth.

“Kin, explain to Wally that—” Alex broke off when she took a seat beside him. “I know that look.”

“Me, too,” Izzy agreed.

“Shit,” Wally muttered as he picked his phone up off the table. “Was one of my players put on injured reserve? It better not be my tight end. I—”

“You idiot,” Izzy muttered as she elbowed Wally in the side. “Kin figured something out about their case.”

“Really?” Wally studied Kinsley before shaking his head to the contrary. “I don’t buy it. That is the same expression she gets when she is set to receive more points than me.”

“You aren’t even playing her this weekend.”

“One of Wally’s wide receivers pulled a hamstring in practice today. And while the player is questionable for Sunday’s game, that’s not why I’m here.” Kinsley turned to Alex, wishing she could take a swig of his beer. As it stood, she was glad it was only half empty. “Alex, do you think there is a possibility that those inside the hospital room knew we were in the hallway today?”

Alex considered her question carefully while Wally muttered an expletive under his breath. He was already searching his phone for confirmation about his injured player.

“Sure, it’s possible,” Alex responded before lifting his bottle of beer. She quickly snagged it from his fingers and set it down on the table. He frowned in irritation, but he didn’t make a move for it. “There was a metal sheet protector on the door. They could have seen our reflection. I take it we’re driving back to the hospital tonight?”

“You figured out who killed Rachel Hanson, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Kinsley replied to Izzy’s question. “Hear me out. Douglas Glynn was able to get a discount on brakes and pads for Gage’s truck. Only I think Douglas might have made the offer out of pure selfishness. This brake thing has been mentioned several times during our conversations with them. Think about it. Gage isn’t the type of man to let his brakes go like that. He fixes equipment on the farm all the time. It’s in his nature to make sure everything is running smoothly.”

“So why not replace his brakes?”

“I looked through Gage’s phone records again. He and Douglas spoke several times in the past few weeks. I think Gage attempted to arrange a time for him to pick up the brake pads, but Douglas kept putting it off.”

“Okay,” Alex said cautiously as he took the bottle of beer and slid it over to Izzy. Wally was currently halfway through his daiquiri. “What is the motive?”

“Money. We know that Louise was added to Tobias’ will. If her children are dead...” Kinsley let her voice trail off before adding one more detail. “I believe Douglas saw our reflections in that metal protection plate. I think that is the reason he pushed Gage into believing the Hanson brothers tried to kill him. If Gage is having trouble recalling the days leading up to his accident, how easy would it be for Douglas to start planting seeds of doubt?”

“Kin, it’s all circumstantial,” Izzy pointed out as she wrapped her hands around Alex’s beer bottle. “You don’t have enough evidence for an arrest.”

“Douglas Glynn drives a truck.” Kin had been in such a rush to share her theory that she hadn’t confirmed Glynn’s alibi. “Alex, was the doorbell camera footage from the house across the street ever emailed to us? The house facing Louise Baird’s home?”

“The lens on the neighbor’s doorbell camera has been broken for a while. We’re out of luck on that front.”

“There isn’t a traffic camera for at least two miles from that neighborhood,” Izzy divulged, though Kinsley had already run the route in her mind.

“Why don’t we walk back to the station?” Alex suggested as he motioned for Kinsley to exit the booth. “We’ll put in a request for warrants to search Douglas Glynn’s truck and Louise Baird’s residence since he lives with her.”

“Or we can drive to the hospital under the guise of speaking with Gage again,” Kinsley suggested, liking her idea better. “I called the hospital and spoke with security. Douglas’ truck is still in the parking lot. We can divide them. Think about it, Alex. We never spoke to them individually.”

Kinsley was merely being proactive. It would take maybe twenty minutes to submit the proper paperwork, and then another ten minutes to drive to the hospital. There was a good chance a judge wouldn’t sign off on the warrants without something more concrete, and she didn’t want Douglas Glynn to slip through their fingers. If luck was on their side, which it hadn’t appeared to be lately, she or Alex would receive word that the warrants came through while questioning the man.

“I’m putting in for overtime on this, Kin.”

“Does that mean you’re buying the first round on Sunday?” Wally asked, picking up his daiquiri in salute. Izzy had already taken a healthy swig from Alex’s bottle. “We’re meeting here at noon.”

Kinsley let some of the tension release from her shoulders. She stood from the booth. She had kept her hands in the pockets of her sweater, but she hadn’t realized just how deep she had dug her nails into her palms. Her encounter with Serra had set her on edge, and she needed the Hanson investigation over if just to have a few days of breathing room.

“Not a chance,” Alex said with a laugh. It was as if he understood Kinsley required a moment. “The new guy is over at the bar. Tap him to buy the first round.”

“Trust me, Wally,” Izzy muttered as she set the bottle down on the table. “Neither one of them will be paid overtime for this.”

Alex stood and took his jacket off the hook on the side of the booth. By the time he slipped his arms in the sleeves and hooked the zipper, Kinsley had some semblance of composure. As she and Alex made their way to the door, it was impossible not to spot Laura and Beck deep in conversation. He made eye contact with her, but she didn’t falter her steps.

She wouldn’t allow a journalist searching for his next big payday to expose her brother’s role in her crime. Once she and Alex made an arrest in the Hanson case, she could then turn her attention to the missing persons investigation into Calvin Gantz. Every action she had taken that fateful night had been with the purpose of leading the authorities away from Terrapin Lake.

Away from Noah.

Away from the truth.

And Kinsley needed it to stay that way.