Page 6 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)
Chapter Six
Kinsley Aspen October Friday — 11:48 am
“It's like déjà vu.”
Kinsley hadn’t meant to utter those words aloud, but they still somehow managed to escape her lips. She couldn’t prevent the acceleration of her heartbeat or the slight sheen of perspiration that formed on her palms as Alex slowly pulled the unmarked cruiser to a stop behind a patrol car.
The mere sight of the small two-story house belonging to Calvin Gantz caused an enormous wave of nausea to hit her. A passerby never would have guessed that a killer had lived in such a charming home. After his mother had passed away over ten years ago, Gantz had kept up with the flowerbeds and yardwork, going out of his way to blend in with his neighbors. Those same flowerbeds were now overgrown, but the beautiful, full-grown trees drew the eye away from the thick vegetation. It was as if nature wouldn’t allow evil to grow roots.
The bountiful leaves from the large trees had turned from vivid shades of greens into various hues of fiery reds and oranges. The fallen leaves blanketed parts of the lawn that the homeowner’s association tended to on a bi-monthly basis. Considering the house siding was white with black shutters, the contrast was exquisite. When the time came that the homeowner’s association could force a sale of the property, the only bump in the road would be disclosing the previous owner’s history.
How could something so beautiful have harbored someone so vile?
Without a word, Alex killed the engine and opened the driver’s side door. Neither of them had spoken on the drive from the station. He hadn’t been pleased to hear about movement at the Gantz residence. She figured he was peeved at her for not issuing an APB on the man last night. Either that, or he was angry with himself for backing up her claim that Gantz had nothing to do with Hanson’s murder during the interview with her husband.
Kinsley desperately needed enough physical evidence to prove someone else was responsible for Rachel Hanson’s death. Otherwise, unwanted questions would continue to swirl. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
She dragged her gaze away from the house to focus on Alex. He had joined the two patrol officers near their cruiser. One of them even pointed toward the residence to the right. From her understanding, a call had been placed by a neighbor who had noticed Gantz’s interior door standing wide open. Believing that someone might have broken into an empty house, the resident then placed a call to the police.
The weight of Kinsley’s secret pressed down on her until she couldn’t sit still any longer. She needed fresh air. Opening the door, the staple scent of burning wood did little to ease her apprehension.
Rachel Hanson’s killer had set the stage, attempting to frame the Fallbrook Killer for the woman’s murder. It was the only scenario that made sense. He had no idea just how muddy he had made the waters in her life.
Kinsley slammed the door shut a little harder than necessary. Time was not her friend. With every passing second, the chance grew that someone would figure out Gantz hadn’t left town of his own volition. The crunch of some dry leaves underfoot near the curb couldn’t overshadow the ringing of her cell phone. She pulled it from her blazer pocket to find Noah’s name on the lighted screen.
Just as she had earlier with her father’s phone calls, she relegated her older brother to voicemail. Before joining Alex, who was now waiting for her in the driveway, she composed a quick text that said nothing more than she was working a case and couldn’t speak to him at the moment. She tacked on a suggestion—he should stop by her townhome later this evening to pick up Emily’s lasagna dish.
Noah would understand the meaning behind her invitation.
Kinsley slid the phone back into her pocket. Sweeping her gaze over the house once more, she did her best to suppress any anxiety that might have made its way to the surface.
“Morning,” Kinsley greeted the officers as she continued past them until she could fall into step next to Alex. “Did the neighbor add any other information in her statement?”
“Nothing of note.” Alex unfastened the button on his suit jacket. He wouldn’t want anything in the way if he needed access to his firearm. “Neighbor was on her morning walk. She noticed the interior door open. Since Gantz hasn’t been around for the past year, she walked up to the porch and called out his name. He didn’t come to the door, and after a while, she became uneasy. Dialed 911 to report a possible break-in. The officers arrived on scene and then walked the perimeter before clearing the house. The lock on the front door displays signs of being jimmied, but they aren’t sure if the marks are recent.”
Given the circumstances, there had been enough probable cause to support the officers’ decision to enter the home. Had the woman not called the police and chosen to close the door in a neighborly fashion, fully believing Gantz had left it open by mistake, no one would have suspected a break-in. The rumor alone would be enough to solidify the belief that Gantz had returned to Fallbrook.
“Anything missing?” Kinsley asked, keeping to her role. It was something she would have inquired about had she no idea that Gantz was dead. “Damaged?”
“No.” Alex came to a stop at the bottom of the porch steps. Kinsley observed the painted planks, but nothing stood out. “Forensics are on their way.”
Alex proceeded up the steps, crossed the porch, and then leaned down to study the handle on the screen door. He pulled out a pair of gloves, holding one of them up for her. She didn’t complain when she noticed it was the left one.
“We’ll do a quick walk-through. Maybe we’ll notice something out of place.” Alex stood to his full height and pulled on the door. This time, it was Kinsley who leaned forward enough to examine the interior door jamb. She spotted where the wood was slightly marred, though she was mindful not to touch it as she pointed toward the damage. “Here. What do you think? A screwdriver?”
There was no question that the officers had done their due diligence. A more inexperienced officer might not have noticed the faint scratches and misinterpreted them as normal wear and tear.
“Something thinner.”
Alex stepped over the threshold. His shift in movement caused a rather oppressive odor to escape. Even though the door had probably been left open for hours, it hadn’t been enough to air out a house that had been closed up for an entire year.
Kinsley held her breath as she navigated the same steps Alex had taken inside. She placed the back of her hand to her lips in an effort to stop the nausea that threatened to release if she didn’t get a hold of her emotions.
Work the case, Kin.
“I’ll take the second level.” Alex made his way over to the staircase, and Kinsley fought the urge to stop him. He flipped the light switch, but there was no electricity. “Don’t forget to check the garage.”
Was Alex becoming convinced that Gantz was responsible for Hanson’s murder? A year was a long time to be gone, and there was a chance someone would suggest that Gantz had lost the keys to his house during those twelve months. She mentally shook off her trepidation as she scanned the living room furniture.
The interior of Calvin Gantz's house was a time capsule, each room a homage to the decade of dial-up internet and grunge music. The floral-patterned sofa, the heavy drapes that swallowed what little light managed to seep through the windows, and the bulky CRT television—all relics of the '90s. Calvin hadn't changed a thing after his mother had passed away, the décor a shrine to her memory, untouched by time or taste. While Gantz had gone to great lengths to maintain the exterior in an effort to conform, he had intentionally kept his personal space for some type of comfort.
Kinsley made her way over to the drapes and carefully drew them apart, the natural sunlight brightening the living room. Her footsteps were muffled by the worn carpet. It was evident from the thin layer of dust that nothing had been disturbed in quite some time.
A year, to be precise.
There were even wisps of abandoned cobwebs between the knick-knacks displayed on the shelves. The spiders had vacated their homes long ago.
“I wouldn’t want to live here, either.”
Kinsley had whispered the words as she retraced her steps toward the half-bath tucked in between the living room and kitchen. The kitchen blinds hadn’t been closed when they had first arrived with a warrant, and they weren’t shut now. The additional sunlight made it easier to search the residence.
There was nothing out of place until she entered the kitchen. The sight of what awaited her brought her up short. A single glass had been turned upside down on a hand towel next to the sink. She cautiously scanned the rest of the kitchen. The officers probably hadn’t given any thought to a lone glass.
Only it hadn’t been there when she had broken into the house that fateful night to grab some of Gantz’s clothes, shove them into a large duffel bag, and stuff his belongings in the trunk of his car before rolling it into a large lake twenty miles north of the city.
Kinsley's heart hammered against her ribs as the memories flashed before her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing to diminish her fear.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Kinsley lifted her lashes and cleared her throat.
“Alex!” It didn’t take her partner long to appear. She gestured toward the glass. “Forensics will want to bag that, along with the towel and sponge. The glass wasn’t out when the officers searched the house after getting the call to conduct a wellness check. I remember the details in the report. I still need to search the backyard and the garage.”
“Kin, if it’s Gantz—”
“Gantz didn’t break into his own home. He also wouldn’t have left the inside door wide open,” Kinsley stated tersely. She finally allowed some of her pent-up anger to seep out. “Someone is playing us, Alex. Forcing us to concentrate on Gantz while taking the focus off him.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but we need to handle this case with kid gloves. In case you didn’t notice, a media van just pulled up outside. It won’t be long before the other stations arrive.” Alex walked over to the refrigerator. They both turned their heads when the stench was almost too much to tolerate. No one had been around to clean it out. “I’ll take the backyard. You take the garage. And Kin?”
Kinsley had already crossed the kitchen to the door that led to the garage. She turned back around to give her full attention to Alex. The softening of his features told her that he wasn’t going to fight her on this.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe Gantz came back to town, either. We still need to cross our Ts and dot our Is on this one, though. Okay?”
Kinsley nodded her understanding, doing her best to hide her relief. It was bad enough that Gantz was going to be talked about by every single individual in Fallbrook. Having his name be so prominent afforded ample opportunity for someone to want to dig deeper…such as those journalists pulling up outside. It was good to know that she didn’t have to continue to worry about her partner’s train of thought.
It didn’t take them long to inspect the backyard and the garage. Kinsley waited for Alex in the living room. She spotted the forensics van pull in front of the patrol car through the window. The two officers were currently instructing the media to remain across the street on the sidewalk.
“Nothing,” Alex stated as he finally made an appearance. “Whoever came inside didn’t venture out the back at all. I’ll have Officer Galanis start knocking on doors. Maybe someone has a doorbell or driveway camera that captured a video of a vehicle or person during the middle of the night.”
“Forensics just pulled up, along with two other news vans,” Kinsley advised as she lifted her wrist to note the time. “We’re going to need to split up. You take the autopsy, and I’ll drive out to Halliday to speak with Zayn. If the victim’s brother is there along with the grandfather, all the better.”
“I requested that Sebastian Hanson give us a list of Rachel’s close friends. We can start those interviews tomorrow.” Alex had been slowly canvassing the living room during their conversation. Needing something else to focus on, Kinsley debated on whether she should bring up Laura Mitchell. Unfortunately, Alex forged ahead before such a discussion could take place. “I always thought the way Gantz disappeared after the trial was odd. Did it ever cross your mind that one of the fathers took matters into his own hands? Killed Gantz and buried his body somewhere?”
Kinsley pressed a hand to her stomach. She was grateful that Alex had already walked over to the front door. While he reexamined the lock, she concentrated on dispelling the jolt of distress from her body.
Before Kinsley was forced to answer his question, a forensics tech had appeared behind the screened entrance. Monica and Bobby wouldn’t be on shift until later tonight, so Alex was required to fill the tech in on last night’s crime scene and what needed to be achieved this morning. Kinsley used the distraction to slip out the door while they inspected the latch strike plate.
“Alex, mind getting a ride back to the station with one of the patrol officers?” Kinsley ignored the crowd across the street after stepping out onto the porch. “I’d like to get a head start to Halliday.”
She took the keys, grateful that Alex was distracted enough not to notice the tremor in her hand. She really needed to get her shit together. If such a thought about Gantz’s fate had crossed her partner’s mind, the same had occurred to others.
Fortunately, she wouldn’t need to give any type of statement to the press just yet. Given who her father was, she and Alex had agreed a long time ago that he would give any and all interviews to the press. Plus, seeing as the officers had successfully managed to move the journalists and reporters across the street, she was able to settle behind the steering wheel without incident.
As Kinsley turned over the engine, she took time to scan the faces of those standing to the right of the news vans. Most appeared to be neighbors, and they were all talking amongst themselves. No one stood out. The same couldn’t be said for the media. There was a male subject standing off to the side. He didn’t act as if he were with a news crew, and he just so happened to be staring directly at her.
There was something vaguely familiar about him, too.
By the time Kinsley had pulled the car away from the curb, she had put his face to a name—Beck Serra. She had met him once at the Bucket, the local pub across the street from the station. The muscles in her shoulders relaxed somewhat now that she was driving away from the intense interest of the media.
Rather than making a U-turn that would draw attention from the gathering crowd, she continued to drive through the quiet neighborhood. She headed towards the back exit of the addition. She planned to take the back road to Halliday, anyway. Doing so would give her time to inspect the accident site, as well as process her emotions. It was difficult for her to reconcile the fact that she had stood in the middle of the living room of a man she had killed…and experienced no remorse whatsoever. She had been more concerned with keeping her criminal actions from her partner.
How did that make her any better than Calvin Gantz?