Page 66 of Whispers Left Behind

The law offices ofAspen Law LLP took up the entire second floor of an aged building in Fallbrook's business district. The exterior of faded red bricks held a certain nostalgic charm that spoke of its history, and the exposed wooden beams that stretched across the high ceiling were a testament to the passage of time.

Kinsley didn’t bother taking the elevator. She had no patience to wait for the lift as it slowly descended from the seventh floor.She veered to the right and swiftly made her way up the wide staircase with wrought-iron handrails on either side. The metal spindles allowed a pedestrian to view the lower levels. She took advantage of such vantage points, but she didn’t spot anyone who didn’t appear to belong.

Not even Beck Serra.

The envelope she clutched in her hand seemed to burn her fingers, but she didn’t dare loosen her grip. It was difficult for her to remain composed when the message inside threatened to unravel her entire life. She had left Alex at the station to finish up the paperwork for the Hanson case. His concern for her sudden departure had been evident, but she couldn’t find it in herself to ease them.

She had no idea if she was making the right decision by visiting her father, but she couldn’t allow Noah’s world to come crashing down alongside hers. She hadn’t figured out how to keep him safe quite yet, but the gravity of the situation left her no real choice at all but to seek her father’s professional opinion.

She spotted Vicki Silvis through the glass windowpanes. By the time Kinsley walked through the entrance, her father’s personal assistant didn’t bother to hide her surprise at the unexpected visit.

“Kinsley, it’s so good to see you,” Vicki said in a genuine tone. She stood from behind her desk before making her way around to greet Kinsley with a warm embrace. “It has been way too long, dear.”

Vicki was in her early fifties with short light brown hair, rimless glasses that didn’t quite sit high enough on the bridge of her nose, and a visible mole on the left side of her chin. She hadn’t changed much in the past year, with the exception of a few more laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.

“Hi, Vicki,” Kinsley greeted warmly as she stepped back. She managed a tight smile before dispensing with the pleasantries. “It’s important that I speak with Dad. Is he with a client?”

“No, his first appointment isn’t for another hour.”

Vicki walked around her desk to no doubt ring her father to ensure he wasn’t on a conference call, but Kinsley couldn’t afford to wait. She approached his office before she could change her mind.

“Kinsley Rose?” The fact that George spoke his daughter’s full name told her that she was the last person he expected to walk into his private office. She met his gaze and quietly closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

George had risen from his chair before she could take a step forward. It was apparent he had assumed something terrible had happened to someone in the family, and she hurriedly put his mind at ease.

“Nothing,” Kinsley murmured as she reached into the pocket of her sweater. She pulled out a dollar bill from the small pocket on the back of her cell phone. “Everyone is fine.”

George stared cautiously at her while she approached him. She hated the tremor in her hand, but she eventually managed to place the dollar bill on the polished mahogany surface of his desk. He couldn’t miss the significance of such a gesture, and an immediate heavy silence settled over the room.

Unable to take a seat in one of the guest chairs, Kinsley made her way over to the large windows overlooking the city of Fallbrook. She used to peer over the windowsill when she was young, counting the vehicles on the street below. She and Dylan used to choose a specific color, and whoever was able to spot the most cars in that shade won.

So many good memories had been tarnished by her impulsive nature.

She stared out at the morning traffic, refusing to bear the sight of her father’s disappointment. His daughter…no different than the clients he represented on a daily basis.

“Gantz didn’t reach out to you for representation because of your friendship with his mother.” Kinsley was glad she hadn’t taken off her sweater. She was cold, and she struggled to maintain every bit of warmth she could under the thick material. “He wanted to learn everything he could about the officer who put the cuffs around his wrists—me.”

“Kinsley, we’ve been over this—”

“I didn’t notice it at first,” Kinsley continued, refusing to give her father the opportunity to paint the past in a different shade. “I ran into Gantz at the grocery store, the dry cleaners, the cafe…the gas station. Each time, he would say something to provoke me just enough that it would appear I was at fault for the confrontation. I didn’t catch on until the third run-in, but a lot of the damage had already been done. I came to realize it was nothing more than a game to him. I went out of my way to change my routine just so he wouldn’t get the best of me. It wasn’t until the day of his acquittal that I threatened his life in front of a bailiff.”

Kinsley recalled the countless times Gantz had deliberately crossed paths with her. Each encounter had been designed to goad her into a reaction, playing on her emotions until she had been reprimanded for her behavior by her captain. The twisted game created by Gantz had been designed to ruin her life.

“Gantz was using you to gather information about my life, Dad.” Kinsley didn’t have to turn around to know that her father had reclaimed his seat. The day was overcast enough to cause a faint reflection in the windowpane. “By the first day of his trial, Gantz knew my favorite color, how I took my coffee, and that I used to color in the corner of your office while you were writingyour opening or closing statements. He even called me butterfly once.”

Her father’s sharp intake of breath rang out as her words hung in the air.

“Gantz had set up everything so perfectly that if anything happened to him, I'd be the first person the police—my colleagues—would look at.”

“No one would ever believe that you—”

“Those confrontations weren’t just exchanged words, Dad.” Kinsley caught sight of a faint sunray right before the overcast sky swallowed it whole. “Gantz would intentionally raise his voice to indicate his fear of me. It didn’t matter if I uttered a word in return or not. He suggested several times that I threatened to take his life if he were to walk free. And then he did.”

The room seemed to close around her.

Suffocate her, really.

Kinsley squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on taking even breaths, but it was a struggle to draw air into her lungs. Her chest was tight and there was a high-pitched ringing in her ears that made it difficult to hear her own thoughts. Ever so gradually, she was able to reign in her emotions.

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