Page 59 of Whispers Left Behind

Izzy mentioned tires a half mile away from where Rachel had been run off the road. Douglas owned a pickup truck.

Kinsley’s mind continued to race, attempting to fit all the pieces of the investigation into place. She thought back to the night she called Noah. The two of them had gone through several scenarios in a desperate attempt to protect themselves. They kept coming back to the same one—the one that contained a diversion.

“And if you thought the police suspected you of a crime, what would be your first reaction?”

Shane leaned back in his chair, spinning it with his black boot. Once he was facing her again, his playful grin faded into a more serious expression. He understood her inquiries had to do with her case.

“A person’s first instinct is to push the blame onto someone else,” Shane said with a dismissive shrug. She doubted that Shane had ever committed a criminal act over the course of his life. His standards for himself and others were high, and he never would have understood her decision last year. “Is that what you think happened in the Hanson case?”

Douglas had consistently pushed the theory that Sebastian and Jack Hanson had killed Rachel for the money. What if the same motive applied, but in a completely different manner?

Kinsley hurried to her desk. She slapped the quarters down next to the phone records. She began to sort through the mound of papers until she had to resort to her email. She finally located Tobias Zayn’s will, which had been emailed to her by Tobias himself. Louise hadn’t been a part of her father’s will at all until a couple of months ago. With both Gage and Rachel out of the picture, Louise stood to gain a financial windfall.

“I think you might have just helped me piece together who murdered Rachel Hanson.” Kinsley grabbed her sweater, keys, and cell phone. When she reached the glass partition, she stopped to voice aloud one more thing. “Welcome to homicide, Shane.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kinsley Aspen

October

Friday — 7:21 pm

The low, constant pulseof 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.”

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