Page 18 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Kinsley ended the call before reaching for the foil-wrapped bread. She handed it off to Noah with a small smile. “I’ve got to get to the station. Hopefully, this makes up for it.”
“I’ll cover for you,” Noah said as he took the peace offering and walked beside her to the porch steps. He would always have her back, just as she would do the same for him. “Don’t worry. They’ll understand. I take it that you picked up the Scriven murder?”
“Yeah,” Kinsley replied as she walked down the porch steps. She grabbed the strap of her purse to keep it from swinging too wildly as she turned to face him. “How well do you know Katherine and William Scriven?”
“They deal with corporate law, so the only time I run into them is at conventions.” Noah grimaced, though, which meant that he still had an opinion. “Cutthroat. Meticulous. Best in the business.”
“We shattered their world today,” Kinsley murmured in remorse, recalling Alex’s words. “It was…devastating.”
“And I will forever be grateful that you saved me from the same experience, Kin.” Noah gave her a small, reluctant smile. “All I ask is that you keep me in the loop. Okay?”
Kinsley could practically feel the note in her purse burning a hole through the leather. She wasn’t exactly hiding anything else from her brother. He knew how many letters she had received over the last nine months. If anything came of her review of some random security footage, she would keep her promise to update him.
“I give you my word.”
Kinsley made her way across the driveway. So much for her plan to start fresh at family dinner.There was always next week.Another chance to try again.
To be better.
7
Kinsley Aspen
July
Thursday — 7:52 pm
The station always seemed hollow at this late hour. Most of the desks in the bullpen were abandoned, the chairs pushed in by the cleaning crew. The few homicide detectives working the night shift were currently drinking their coffee on the opposite side of the room, this late hour actually their morning.
Since it was a Thursday night, it wouldn’t be long before they were called out to a domestic disturbance gone south. Kinsley had spent some time on the night shift, and it had highlighted how important Noah’s choice was to go into family law. Nothing was worse than having to call social services in the middle of the night because one of the parents had been brutally murdered by the other.
Kinsley made her way to her desk, not bothering to pull out her chair. Instead, she opened the bottom drawer and tucked her purse inside after grabbing her cell phone. When she caughtsight of the interior zippered side pocket, she slammed the drawer shut with unnecessary force.
The abrupt sound was amplified by the open space.
During the day, the precinct hummed with energy as phones rang, keyboards clicked, and voices overlapped in a constant stream of information. Now, the silence was almost physical, pressing against her ears as she headed down the hallway in search of Alex. She had spotted his suit jacket hanging on a hook from his coatrack, so he was somewhere nearby.
“Aspen, just the woman I was looking for!”
The triumphant voice pulled Kinsley from her thoughts.
Isabella “Izzy” Martinez approached from behind, likely having taken the elevator from the ground floor. Even though it was summer, she still wore black jeans, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, and matching leather work boots. Come Sunday, she wouldn’t bother to hide the tattoo sleeve covering her right arm.
“Hey, Izzy,” Kinsley replied as she thought over her recent caseload. They didn’t currently have an overlap with investigations. “What are you doing here so late?”
It was uncommon for Kinsley to consult Izzy on a case, as she was a forensic crash reconstructionist. She analyzed physical evidence from crash scenes to determine how accidents happened, including factors such as vehicle speed, impact angles, and driver behavior. She could simply glance at a set of tire marks and read them like a book, extracting crucial details that others might overlook.
“I’m on my way to meet Wally and a few other officers at The Bucket.” Izzy came to a stop in front of Kinsley. “I blame Alex. He was the one who was supposed to devise some extra plays for Sunday's game. I want nothing to do with getting roped into creating plays that we’ll never use, which means you’re coming with me.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“That’s a lie,” Izzy accurately accused, narrowing her eyes with irritation. Her lashes were so dark that it was as if she sported permanent eyeliner. “You don’t wish anything of the sort.”
“Busted,” Kinsley said with a laugh, “but I still can’t join you. Alex brought someone in for questioning. Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”
“It’s not even eight o’clock. I also heard that you were the one tasked with telling Wally that the ‘Morgue Marauders’ headbands are a no-go.” Izzy cocked her head to the side in expectation. “The headbands have to go, Kin.”
“I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
