Page 3 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter Three

Kinsley Aspen October Thursday — 8:24 pm

The Jeep’s tires effortlessly navigated the winding gravel road. The bright headlights carved an even greater path through the moonlit shadows, illuminating more of the desolate landscape that lined the path on both sides. Once-thriving fields were now barren, and even the horse stables had been reduced to worn-down structures from years of neglect.

Time stopped for no one.

Kinsley slowly drove past the wooden gate of the old Cooper farm. The frame had been discarded off to the side, and some of its planks had splintered and scattered over the ground. In the distance, swirling red and blue lights highlighted an old, weathered barn. Three police cruisers had parked at an angle out front, but there was no sign of the forensics team.

Pulling behind one of the patrol vehicles, she killed the engine. Alex was near the entrance of the barn, speaking to two officers. Her partner must have already taken Lionel’s statement, because the older man was nowhere to be found.

Kinsley had taken longer than a minute to compose herself back at her parents’ house. She should have arrived on scene at least ten minutes ago, but she and Alex had been partners long enough that he understood her family dynamics.

She could easily shift the blame for her tardiness onto Dylan.

Wanting to ensure that Alex wouldn’t notice the tension in her shoulders, she stretched her neck muscles by tilting her head from side to side. In doing so, she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror.

Her light blue eyes were rather dull from stress, and the tight lines of stress around her mouth didn’t help with her endeavor. While she took after her father with her blonde hair and blue eyes, everything else had been inherited from her mother—her diamond-shaped face, full lips, and even the tiny dimple near the left side of her mouth.

“You look like shit,” she muttered to herself in dismay before pinching her cheeks. Such pressure did little to restore their usual color. Giving up, she reached back and removed the clip from her hair. She shouldn’t have gotten additional layers at her last hair appointment. Some of the strands kept escaping, and she didn’t like anything touching her face when she was working. As she fixed her hair into a more secure position, she noticed Alex had finished giving instructions to the two officers. The way he was staring in her direction gave way to his impatience. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”

Kinsley had done everything she could to keep Alex in the dark about Gantz. She wouldn’t have involved anyone that fateful night had she physically been able to drag Gantz’s body to its final resting place by herself. If she were being honest with herself, the call she had made had been out of sheer desperation. Her older brother had answered, as he always had…and would…for a family member in need.

Noah’s reward?

He was now an accomplice to murder.

Kinsley didn’t need to view her reflection in the mirror to know that she had changed drastically in the past twelve months. That type of strain took a toll on a person. It never ceased to amaze her how easily one could rationalize away such appalling choices. Shouldn’t she have experienced some measure of remorse for taking a life?

Shame?

Guilt?

Sadness?

Her sole regret was that she had placed such a heavy burden on Noah’s shoulders. She had always considered herself a good person. One who always made the right decisions, exhibited high morals, and set high standards for herself.

Yet she couldn’t summon a single ounce of regret for pulling the trigger.

Staring down at her right hand in contemplation, she softly rubbed her thumb and index finger together. There wasn’t an indention or a mark to be found, yet it was there all the same. Whatever awaited her in the barn was not the of Calvin Gantz.

He was at the bottom of Terrapin Lake.

After exiting her Jeep, Kinsley maintained a brisk pace across the packed dirt. She nodded toward Officer Blake. He was standing away from the others with an electronic tablet in his hand. He was undoubtedly entering her name into the log of individuals accessing the crime scene. After last year, everyone had gone to great lengths to ensure their jobs were done to the best of their abilities.

Officer Blake didn’t respond to the dispatcher coming through loud and clear over his radio announcing a domestic disturbance in one of the apartment buildings on the east side of town. One of the unassigned patrol units would respond to the call.

While most of the homicide cases were closer to the heart of the city, Kinsley and Alex had their fair share of investigations in the sticks. Most murders out this way were the result of domestic disputes. The vast stretch of farmland just inside the county line fell under Fallbrook's jurisdiction. The other homicide detectives preferred not to get their shoes muddy, though.

“Where’s your jacket? Or that thing you call a sweater?”

“Left it at the house.” Kinsley came to a stop in front of her partner. She kept her focus on the woman’s body lying on the ground in the middle of the barn. Alex would eventually come to the determination that dinner with her family hadn’t gone so well, and she wouldn’t do anything to convince him otherwise. “I’ll be fine. ID?”

“Maybe. While there was no identification on the body, Cooper recognized her right away—Rachel Hanson. Apparently, her grandfather owns a dairy farm up near Halliday.” Alex pointed toward the wooded area to the west. “There is a backroad that cuts about twenty minutes off the driving time from Fallbrook. I already sent Hendricks in that direction. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find her vehicle abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics is on their way, but they’ll have to wait until morning to canvass the area more thoroughly. There’s no telling how much ground she covered between there and here.”

Kinsley didn’t recognize the name of their victim. She turned away from the barn to examine the different routes Rachel Hanson could have taken to end up dead in a barn. If Hanson had been running away from someone in the woods, chances were she had spotted the lights shining from Lionel’s farmhouse and tried to seek safety.

“Everything go okay at dinner?” Alex asked warily after observing her for a moment. She could count the times she had caught him looking less than stellar on one hand. He took pride in his appearance, and there wasn’t a single black strand on his head that was out of place. “I know that Gantz is a sore topic between you and your father. Did you tell him that—”

“I didn’t tell him anything. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Alex.” Kinsley did her best to soften her tone, not wanting her partner to take her reply out of context. “Fallbrook is surrounded by farmland. There are bound to be murders with similar causes of death. I take it that her throat was cut?”

“That about sums it up.”

“What do we know about Hanson? Married? Single? Any domestic disturbances come up when you ran her name through the system?” She doubted that Alex had time to learn anything of significance about Hanson, but Kinsley’s inquires kept them off the topic of Gantz. “Criminal record? Drugs, maybe?”

Compared to larger cities, Fallbrook had low gang activity and a below-average crime rate. Out of the four hundred officers on staff, only twelve were dedicated to handling homicide cases. The rest were assigned to various divisions such as patrol, traffic, vice and narcotics, community service, and a range of other departments that focused on the two hundred thousand residents who called Fallbrook home.

“I only got here twenty-five minutes ago, Kin. Once I realized what we were dealing with, I called you before taking Lionel’s statement. Dispatch stated the victim had no outstanding warrants.” Alex glanced down at his notebook before tilting it to the side. The headlights from the cruiser offered him better clarification. He rattled off an address, and it was located in one of the wealthier neighborhoods. “I’m waiting to hear back from dispatch for more details. We have a long night ahead of us. I’m guessing time of death occurred sometime late last night or very early this morning.”

“Last night?” Kinsley asked in confusion, turning her attention back to the body. Forensics would be on scene shortly to confirm Alex’s suspicion. They would set up a few generated-powered lights, photograph and tag anything of substance, as well as canvas the surrounding area at dawn. The barn itself would take hours. “Why didn’t Lionel call this in earlier?”

“Cooper had a doctor’s appointment this morning. When he was done, he stopped in at the Legion for a burger. The guys talked him into staying for a few hands of poker. It wasn’t until he was driving back up the lane that he noticed the barn door open.” Alex didn’t need to refer to his notes. He was a stickler for details. “He claims that he never leaves the door open. Thought that maybe a mountain lion or black bear was poking around. Anyway, about seven-thirty this evening, he made his way down from the house to find this shitshow.”

“That’s a lot of blood,” Kinsley murmured in agreement, grimacing at the carnage left behind. She noticed Officer Blake was no longer standing near his cruiser. He was busy conversing with the two other officers gearing up to canvas the rest of the property. She held her hand out toward Alex. “Give me your cell. I left mine in the Jeep.”

Alex rubbed the side of his jaw, indicating that he wanted to steer the conversation back to Gantz. She couldn’t very well reveal to him that Gantz was dead, which left her with little option but to consider his theory. She wasn’t fond of heights, and she hated walking such a tightrope.

“Kin, there are similarities that—”

“I’ll keep an open mind, Alex.” Kinsley finally met his gaze. “Phone?”

“I can do one better.” Alex reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. She would have headed toward the body not stopped her. “Wait.”

Alex also pulled out a pair of gloves, as well as blue shoe coverings. She took them, grateful that he hadn’t roasted her over not being prepared this evening. She hadn’t planned on getting too close to the body to disturb evidence, but she would now that she had the proper gear.

Once her ankle boots were covered, Kinsley carefully edged around the dirt at the barn entrance. It was easy to recognize that some scuffle had taken place between their victim and her attacker. Even if Hanson had screamed at the top of her lungs, chances were that Lionel wouldn’t have heard her cry for help. There was simply too much distance between the barn and his house.

“Tell Blake to—”

“Lionel’s boots are already bagged and in the trunk of Blake’s cruiser. And let me tell you, Kin…the man has a thing about his boots.”

Lionel would have strolled right across the packed dirt without any idea that something worse than a mountain lion awaited him inside the barn. He had probably brought his shotgun with him, as most farmers tended to do when protecting their fields. In all likelihood, forensics wouldn’t be able to get much from the packed dirt at the entrance.

Kinsley took her time examining the edge of the door. She couldn’t make out anything unusual. After giving the exterior another brief perusal, she aimed the bright beam directly in front of her.

She approached the body with measured steps.

The coverings of her black ankle boots couldn’t soften the crunch of discarded hay and dirt that remained on the floor of the barn. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood. The crimson spray covered a vast area, which prompted her to veer in a relatively wide arc. She only approached the body once she was confident that she wouldn’t disturb any debris.

Kinsley edged close enough to kneel next to the victim. She took her time in examining the woman’s wounds and the direction of the blood splatter. There was no doubt that Rachel Hanson’s throat had been sliced open while she had been standing in the middle of the barn.

It was understandable that Alex would conclude that Calvin Gantz had returned to Fallbrook. He had killed two women in the same manner and type of location.

The wound was precise and deep. The edges revealed no hesitation on the killer’s part. Such brutality indicated cold calculation. The killer had expertly sliced through skin and muscle, leaving nothing but a gaping hole.

There was also blood on the victim’s left side.

A second stab wound?

“Her killer stood directly in front of her.” Alex hadn’t moved from his spot near the entrance, though there was no need for him to raise his voice. The echo of the barn had accomplished that task. “You can determine the killer’s stance from the angle of the injury.”

Kinsley remained silent as she remained in a kneeling position. She continued to examine the victim’s body with the beam of the flashlight, eventually bringing the light to a stop maybe a foot away from the victim. The same area where the killer would have needed to be to make such an incision.

He would have been sprayed with her blood.

“Gantz slit the throats of his victims from the same position, Kin. We assumed at the time that he wanted to watch the life drain from their faces, and I still believe that.” Alex stopped speaking when the sound of an engine broke through the night air. He didn’t have to announce the forensics team’s arrival on scene. “We need to get ahead of this. Put out an APB.”

“There’s no need for an all-points bulletin.” Kinsley stood, grimacing when her knee popped from an old softball injury. She was mindful to retrace her steps, holding out Alex’s flashlight for him to take. “Someone wants us to think Gantz is back in town. Did you notice the imprint of the killer’s shoes? I’m guessing this perp wears a size twelve. Gantz wore a ten and a half. He also didn’t waste time stabbing his victims in the abdomen. One slice to their throats. That was his MO.”

Kinsley winced internally when she had inadvertently spoken about Calvin Gantz in the past tense. Fortunately, the slipup had been in the middle of her conclusion. Alex hadn’t seemed to notice one way or the other.

“And if a lock of hair is missing?” Alex inquired as he monitored the progress of the forensics team. Monica and Bobby had already exited the van and spoken to Officer Blake. The duo was currently unloading the generated-powered lights from the back. “We won’t be able to ignore the similarities then.”

It had taken a week after the trial for anyone to notice that Calvin Gantz had gone missing. While her father had managed to get the man acquitted of murder, some residents weren’t sure of the man’s innocence or guilt. Those close to him had sworn that he could never have hurt those women, but his disappearance had planted seeds of doubt. Most everyone assumed that he had skipped town.

As for the locks of missing hair, Gantz had taken souvenirs. Unfortunately, that evidence had been tossed along with the murder weapon after the discovery that a journalist had accessed Gantz’s home after the warrant had been issued but before the technician had bagged the evidence.

Kinsley had to remind herself that Monica and Bobby were the most experienced technicians on staff. They never would have compromised their integrity in such a manner. Not only were both of them meticulous, but they were also excellent during cross-examination in court.

“We’ll deal with it,” Kinsley responded vaguely as a cold gust of wind came across the open field. She had changed into jeans and her favorite knit pullover sweater right after her shift. It hadn’t been too cold when she left her townhome to drive over to her parents’ house, but the temperature had dropped quickly throughout the evening. “Where is Wally? He’s usually the first one on scene.”

Alex shot Kinsley a sideways glance.

“Thursday,” Kinsley muttered as she glanced down at her smartwatch before crossing her arms to preserve some of her body heat. “Kickoff was about fifteen minutes ago. We have a while before Wally pulls himself away from the game.”

Walter Elm was not only the Chief Medical Examiner of Fallbrook, but he was a walking, talking contradiction. He lived for his job along with anything and everything related to science, yet he was obsessed with Fantasy Football and strawberry daiquiris. As a diehard Minnesota Vikings fan, he never missed a game.

“Yeah, well, you might want to steer clear of him,” Alex advised as he began to stroll toward his black Camaro. After removing the blue shoe coverings, Kinsley followed him, but she wouldn’t remain on site for long. She would be the one to notify Rachel Hanson’s next of kin. Whether that turned out to be the victim’s grandfather remained to be seen. “Your wide receiver scored on the opening drive.”

Given that the game had only just started, Alex would have received that information from the dispatcher. Death didn’t prevent others from living, and Kinsley had to remind herself of that fact often.

“Shit. I’m playing Wally this week, aren’t I?”

Kinsley was back in her element.

Nothing had changed in the past twelve months.

Gantz was dead, everyone assumed he had left town, and she had no choice but to put one foot in front of the other. This case was like any other, and the evidence would prove to her partner that someone else had brutally murdered Rachel Hanson.

Everything remained the same.

Kinsley needed it to stay that way.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

She didn’t have to give Alex a play-by-play of her actions over the next hour. He never notified the next of kin. Ever. He would remain behind with Wally, oversee the processing of the scene, and then stay on site until everyone was gone.

Their routine had been that way since the trial.

“And Alex?” Kinsley had already veered off toward her Jeep, but she stopped and waited for her partner to do the same. She wanted to hammer in one more nail to keep her partner on solid ground. “I’m confident that we’re dealing with a copycat.”

“And why is that?”

“Gantz never would have forgotten to close the barn door.”