Page 34 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
“She's in the kitchen wrapping up a fresh batch of blueberry muffins.” Brianna waved a hand toward the swinging door at the far end of the counter. “You can go on back. She won’t mind. I'll get your order started and have it ready for you by the time you’re finished.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
Kinsley slipped behind the counter, ignoring the curious stares from waiting customers. She pushed through the swinging door that separated the café from the kitchen, instantly engulfed by a wall of heat and the concentrated, sweet scent of baking.
Carol was at the kitchen's center island, skillfully using gloved hands to wrap blueberry muffins in Saran Wrap. Her actions were smooth and precise, and she seamlessly glanced up to check who had entered the kitchen without once breaking her rhythm.
“Well, look who's here on her day off,” Carol said with a smile without stopping her task. “Or maybe not. You’re carrying your firearm. Did Dale finally approve some overtime for you overworked and underpaid detectives?”
Kinsley smiled, knowing full well that Carol and Captain Thompson went back a long way. She was also known to speak her mind without regret.
“Something like that,” Kinsley replied as she leaned against the stainless steel prep table. “Alex and I are working on the Scriven murder case. Given that tomorrow is the flag-football fundraiser, we’re putting in the extra hours today.”
“You and Wally both,” Carol shared as she finished sealing the last muffin and placing it on a silver tray that would ultimately wind up behind the glass display out front. “He was waiting for me to flip the open sign this morning. I take it he’sperforming the autopsy on that poor girl? I can’t imagine the pain and grief her parents are going through right now.”
Carol removed both gloves in two effortless motions before arching one eyebrow in concern. She slowly scanned Kinsley from head to toe.
“Those white slacks are asking for trouble in a bakery’s kitchen, honey. What can I do for you?”
“I need to check your security footage, if that's all right,” Kinsley requested without hesitation. She hated lying, but that’s all her life seemed to consist of these days. “Someone bumped into the back of my Jeep out front on Thursday morning. No note. Nothing. I'd like to verify that individual’s identity.”
Kinsley maintained eye contact.
Carol studied her for a moment before nodding her consent.
“Follow me.”
Carol led Kinsley through the kitchen to a small office near the back exit. The space was barely big enough for the desk it contained, with walls covered in employee schedules, vendor information, and numerous family photos. Carol didn’t bother to sit down. Instead, she leaned forward and wiggled the mouse on an ancient computer, bringing the screen to life.
“Security system's basic, but it does the job,” Carol explained, clicking through several folders. “You can access footage by date and camera. We've got four—front door, kitchen, register, and back door.”
Carol demonstrated the navigation quickly.
“I need to get back out there before Brianna drowns in orders. Just close down when you’re done, honey.”
“Thanks, Carol. I appreciate it.”
Kinsley pulled out the desk chair and made herself comfortable while listening to Carol’s footsteps fade back into the kitchen. She didn’t hesitate to navigate through the folders and access the security footage from the camera aimed at thefront entrance. The wide-angle view provided a clear perspective of the vehicles parked along the curb.
She quickly adjusted the timeline to view her arrival at the café on Thursday morning. Leaning in towards the screen, she studied the faces of the people near the pick-up counter. The note left for her had been slid under the cupholder, but there was no one close enough yet to do so. She switched her focus to the long line of customers. It was a strange sensation observing herself from such a detached perspective.
On screen, she appeared slightly more put together than she'd felt that morning. She had been distracted by the calendar date, calculating how and when the next note would arrive.
The footage continued to play as Brianna took Kinsley’s order. Another part-time employee was preparing the previous orders as Kinsley shoved her wallet back into her purse before joining two other people still waiting for their morning beverages.
Kinsley hadn’t noticed it then, but Brianna tried to call her back. Had she forgotten her change? The receipt? Kinsley tried to think back to how she had paid for her order last week, but her attempt to do so was cut off when Brianna motioned for the next customer to be patient.
Brianna then reached into her green apron and pulled out a small white envelope. It was the same size and the same stark whiteness as the one Kinsley had received that morning.
Brianna once again tried to attract Kinsley's attention, but she had been focused on her phone. She recalled getting a weekly reminder text from her mother about dinner that night. Brianna frowned before reaching for a cupholder. She placed it down on top of the envelope before saying something to the other barista.
“What the hell?” Kinsley whispered to the empty office, rewinding and reviewing the sequence again.Brianna. The cheerful barista who was college-bound. "Something isn’t right.”
Kinsley couldn’t wrap her mind around Brianna being the one to send threatening notes about Calvin Gantz. It made no sense. Brianna would have only been sixteen when Gantz was killed. She also lived on the other side of town, and she would have had no reason to know what had happened that night.
Kinsley heard footsteps approaching and quickly closed the footage. By the time she had exited the software program, Carol was standing in the doorway.
“Find what you needed?” Carol asked, her gaze flicking to the screen and then back to Kinsley's face.
