Page 8 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter Eight

Kinsley Aspen October Friday — 1:11 pm

The tires of the unmarked police cruiser crunched over the gravel as Kinsley drove through the gates of Tobias Zayn's dairy farm. She should have stopped at the station to switch out vehicles. She was always more comfortable in her Jeep, especially on the winding back roads from Fallbrook to Halliday.

The vast stretch of Tobias’ farm was a patchwork of grass-covered pastures where dairy cows ambled and grazed about under the overcast sky. Thick clouds had gradually rolled in during her commute, though there was no hint of rain in the forecast. Beyond the fields was a solitary horse near a weathered fence, its tail flicking away at the pesky flies.

As Kinsley drove closer to the farmhouse, she noted several outbuildings—a large barn painted red with white trim, a milking parlor, a squat silo, a coop teetering on ancient foundations, and a tool shed that looked as though it had been there since the land was first tilled. Unlike Lionel Cooper’s farm, this one was working at full capacity.

At the end of the drive to the left was a beautiful farmhouse, its white clapboard siding and forest green shutters faded from the elements. A wraparound porch hugged the structure with inviting rocking chairs lining each side. In the front yard, an old dog lay sleeping, completely undisturbed by Kinsley's arrival.

She killed the engine, the ticking of cooling metal breaking the silence. The back road she had intentionally taken to reach her destination had revealed something interesting—whoever had run Rachel off the road had patience. The route had no escape route for a good two miles. Given the area where the crash had taken place, the guilty party would have been monitoring his target for quite some time.

Had the killer followed Rachel from Fallbrook to her destination and then back toward home? Or had he picked up her trail near Halliday? Either way, such behavior was premeditated and extremely calculated.

As Kinsley opened the car door, the hinges creaked softly. The old dog had waited until she exited the vehicle to slowly make his way over to her. She leaned down and gave him some attention, estimating that he was at least ten years old from his coarse hair and graying snout.

“I take it you haven’t found the bastard who killed my granddaughter?”

Tobias Zayn had emerged from the house. He was a tall man, his frame wiry by years of labor. His weather-beaten skin appeared to be as tough as boot leather, too. Silver hair peeked from beneath a cap that had seen better days, but his narrowed eyes told her that he was sharp as a tack.

He was also grieving, as was evident by his bloodshot eyes.

“Not yet, Mr. Zayn.”

Tobias carried two steaming mugs of coffee. She had called ahead, so it wasn’t a surprise to find him waiting for her. The screen door slammed behind him as he made his way over to a small table nestled between two rocking chairs.

“Well, take a seat.” His voice was as gravelly as his driveway. She also heard a hint of anguish. “What do you want to know?”

By the time Kinsley had ascended the porch steps, Tobias was already in one of the rocking chairs. He didn’t sway it. Instead, he carefully took a drink of the steaming beverage while monitoring her motions over the rim of his mug.

“First, you have my condolences,” Kinsley said softly as she took a seat in the rocking chair. It was sturdy, and if she had to guess, Tobias had made it with his own two hands. “As I said on the phone, I’m Detective Kinsley Aspen. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” His words were sparse, carrying a sorrow that was as much a part of him as his own flesh and blood. He was old school, and he would never allow a stranger to witness his vulnerabilities. Tobias gestured toward the coffee. “Help yourself.”

Kinsley wrapped her fingers around the mug, the warmth seeping into the palm of her hand. She leaned back, mindful not to spill her coffee.

“People are saying the Fallbrook Killer is back.” Tobias set his coffee on the arm of his chair as he turned his full attention her way. “Any truth to that?”

“There is evidence that points us in another direction.” Kinsley had carefully chosen her words. While Tobias lived in Halliday, his daughter resided in Fallbrook. There was a good chance that he had already been informed about movement inside Gantz’s residence. “We don’t want to close the door on any potential leads, though. It’s the reason I’m here, actually. Did you see Rachel on Wednesday?”

“No. She came by the farm last weekend, though.” Tobias firmly pressed his thin lips together, as if attempting to rein in his emotions. After visibly swallowing, he continued. “My Rachel always came by once a week. No matter what, unlike her mother.”

“Was Rachel upset?” Kinsley would circle back around to Tobias’ relationship with his daughter. Louise Baird had mentioned last night that she was close to her family. Why would she lie about something so easily discredited? “Did Rachel say anything to give you the impression that she was in fear for her life?”

“Do I look like a man who would allow my granddaughter to leave my farm if she thought her life was in danger?”

Tobias raised a fist to his lips as he covered a slight cough. Once he had cleared his throat, he picked up his mug and took another sip of his coffee. For a moment, his eyes glistened. He blinked, clearing away any moisture before setting his mug to the side. It wasn’t long before he began to push the rocking chair with his work boot in agitation.

“Rachel was happy the last time she was here. Smiling, laughing, and playing the guitar for me like usual. My Rachel has a beautiful voice. Can sing like an angel. Rachel is…was…kind and loyal. I adored my granddaughter, but I also wasn’t blind to her faults. Loyalty was part of her problem, too.”

Kinsley took a sip of her coffee. Out in these parts, an individual partook in the pleasantries or one could see themselves to the door. She needed information from Tobias, so that meant drinking his coffee, which just so happened to be the best she had enjoyed in months.

“How so?” Kinsley inquired, having already gotten the sense of who Tobias was about to reference. “Or rather, who? Her husband?”

“Never cared for the man,” Tobias admitted as he reached into the pocket of his work shirt. He pulled out a tin can and thumped it against the palm of his hand. “Sebastian traveled for his job, leaving Rachel home alone more often than not. I understand about having a work ethic, but that man would sell an imaginary bridge if he thought it would make him money. He is faithful only to the person next in line who can offer him something in return.”

“Was Rachel aware of your feelings about her marriage?”

“Rachel was happy.”

Kinsley took his response to mean that Tobias kept his mouth shut. His generation was certainly different than hers. While Rachel would have had a sense of Tobias’ reservations regarding her husband, she wouldn’t have brought it up out of respect for her grandfather.

“Happy enough to want children,” Kinsley finally said after taking another sip of her coffee. She placed her mug next to his so that she could also gently rock the chair. Between the soothing motion and the crisp breeze coming in off the pasture, there was a peaceful quality to the open land. “It’s my understanding that Rachel and Sebastian were having trouble in that area.”

“Does it matter? My Rachel is dead.”

The brief respite of tranquility had evaporated, and there was little Kinsley could convey to ease the man’s grief.

“Rachel was run off the back road leading away from Halliday toward Fallbrook. Do you have any idea why she would have been out driving in the middle of the night?”

“None. Like I said, Rachel hasn’t been here since last weekend.” Tobias’ gaze swung out toward a male subject approaching from one of the outbuildings. “That's my grandson, Gage. Hasn’t said much since...well, let’s just say that he and Rachel were close. He’ll be driving to his mother’s place shortly. A dairy farm doesn’t run on its own.”

Gage Baird came to a stop at the porch steps, but he made no move to join them. His eyes were just as inflamed as his grandfather’s. Rachel’s brother was tall like their grandfather but quite muscular. Kinsley assumed it was from working the farm. She had pulled his information this morning before leaving the station.

Gage was twenty-eight years old with brown hair in need of a trim. No criminal record. Not even a parking ticket.

He nodded curtly at Kinsley, acknowledging her presence.

“Detective Aspen is here asking questions about Rachel.”

“Is it true that Gantz killed Rachel? That he came back to town to flaunt his freedom?”

Kinsley was getting really tired of that assumption.

“The evidence so far suggests otherwise.” Kinsley brought the rocking chair to a complete stop. “When did you last speak with your sister, Mr. Baird?”

“Wednesday.” Gage’s stare fixated on his grandfather. “She called me in the morning to say that she wanted to talk about something, and she would be by the farm before the end of the week.”

“Do you know what Rachel had been referencing?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you mention this to me, Gage?” Tobias asked grimly. He clearly wasn’t pleased with being kept in the dark.

“I was in Leeds, Pops.”

“Did you see her Wednesday afternoon?” Kinsley asked quietly, wanting verification of an alibi. Gage was smart enough to understand the reason behind her inquiry. He might have been in Leeds earlier in the day, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t driven home that night. “Or evening?”

“No. Like I said, I was in Leeds, securing some bull semen.”

Gage’s alibi was easy enough to verify. As for Tobias, Kinsley had noticed the man’s limp. It would have been physically impossible for him to have chased Rachel from the back road through the woods and onto Lionel Cooper’s farm. Add in the cough that seemed to plague him, he also wouldn’t have had the energy to finish the job.

“Mr. Zayn, are you close with your daughter?”

“I love my daughter, if that’s what you’re asking.” Tobias had taken some tobacco out of the tin can and stuffed some of the contents behind his lower lip. Once the container was tucked back into his shirt pocket, he gave a little more insight into their relationship. “Louise and I don’t always see eye to eye on things. She would have had me sell this farm years ago, but she doesn’t understand that this land is our family’s legacy.”

Gage shifted so that he had a view of the farm. Kinsley had difficulty reading his body language. Did he agree with his mother or his grandfather?

Kinsley continued to ask both men similar questions to those posed to Sebastian Hanson, not coming up with any different responses to aid in the investigation. She concluded her inquiries, thanking both men for their cooperation. She tacked on additional appreciation for the coffee before shaking Tobias’ hand. As she made her way down the wooden porch steps, she noticed that Gage made no move to join his grandfather in the house.

It wasn’t until Kinsley heard the screen door slam and had closed the distance to her vehicle that she caught sight of Gage making his way over to her. The older dog wasn’t paying attention to either of them. Palming her keys, she leaned against the side of the car.

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of my grandfather.” There was concern and something else in the man’s voice that she couldn’t identify. “He’s been…off.”

“How so?” Kinsley asked, wanting more clarification on such a claim.

“Not himself. I don’t know. Just…distant.”

Gage appeared reluctant to share something he believed was pertinent to his sister’s death. After all, he had deliberately sought her out. She waited patiently, hoping that Tobias wouldn’t decide to rejoin them.

“It’s not what you think, Detective,” Gage hesitantly replied, taking a moment to peer over his shoulder. He sighed in resignation and ran a hand through his hair. “Pops had a gambling problem. Or I should say…he has for years. It’s the main reason why there is tension between him and my mother. Pops almost lost the farm twice that I can recall, but he’s always managed to dig himself out of the hole. I thought he finally learned his lesson the last time. Now? I’m not so sure.”

“And why is that?”

“Pops has been making some unexpected trips into town these past few months.” Gage grimaced, as if his grandfather leaving the farm was a rarity. “Ever since a farming accident a couple of years ago, Pops usually has me run the errands. Truthfully, I think the boredom is getting to him.”

“Are you suggesting that Tobias took money from someone?”

Halliday wasn’t the place where a bookie would run his business. The town was lucky even to be marked on a map. Tobias would have had to go into a larger town or city for that type of action.

Had Tobias gotten involved with the wrong people?

Kinsley couldn’t fathom such information having anything to do with Hanson’s murder. Bookies and their muscles for hire wouldn’t care about staging a murder. They wanted their point made loud and clear.

“Pops loves this place. Lives for it. If he thought Rachel’s death was on him…”

“I appreciate the information. I’ll make sure to look into it.” Kinsley shifted until she could tug on the door handle. Before Gage could step back, she hoped to receive one more answer. “Mr. Baird, who is the man standing near the barn?”

Gage appeared surprised at the question, but not apprehensive. He didn’t even take time to peer in that direction, though the old dog had certainly taken an interest in the individual. It was Kinsley’s experience that dogs were fantastic judges of characters.

“J.J. Callahan. He helps out around the farm now that Pops has taken a step back.”

Kinsley would have closed the car door and requested to speak with J.J., but the chime of her cell phone cut off her directive. She pulled her phone from her pocket to find a message from her partner. Any more questions would have to wait. Wally was in the middle of performing Hanson’s autopsy, and Alex was requesting she head back to the city immediately.

There was a break in the case.