Page 15 of Whispers Left Behind

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 wasgood 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 andBobby 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.

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