Page 45 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
His attention began to drift as he waited for the bartender to make his way down to the opposite end. As Beck swept his gaze across the room, he suddenly discovered the real reason for Elliot Goff’s sudden departure.
Homicide Detective Kinsley Aspen.
She was sitting at a back booth, staring directly at him. She wasn't alone, either. A woman with curly auburn hair sat across from her, clearly pulling her weight in the conversation over what looked like the remnants of loaded nachos.
Kinsley wasn’t paying much attention to her friend, since all her focus was on him. Their gazes were now locked across the smoky interior of The Plow. He had miscalculated, and her presence had scared off one of his last leads.
He couldn’t prove that she had anything to do with Gantz’s disappearance, other than the letter that had been sent to him by none other than Gantz himself.
If you’ve received this note, I’m dead. Kinsley Aspen killed me.
Beck's jaw tightened as he held her gaze, neither of them being the first to look away. The noise of the bar—the country music, the laughter from the patrons, the clink of glasses—all seemed to fade into background static.
Unfortunately, Beck was no closer to the truth about what had happened to Calvin Gantz than he was two years ago. Maybe it was time to kick things up a notch.
18
Dylan Aspen
July
Saturday — 8:57 pm
The gravel parking lot of The Local Plow was packed, which meant Dylan had to pull alongside the endless rows of corn. He had taken the time to wash his truck earlier in the day, but the passenger side would be covered with dust by the time he called it a night.
Cutting the engine, he winced at the sharp pain in his hand. The deep cut on the sensitive skin between his thumb and index finger was a reminder that he needed to be more mindful when fixing barbed wire fences.
He had finally found a good rhythm in his life, and he didn’t regret returning home after years of wandering from state to state. There were times when he believed those travels had been less about finding himself and more about running from the expectations he had placed on himself. His father was one of the best defense attorneys in town, and every single one ofhis siblings had solid careers and were building foundations for either their future or their own families.
Noah had followed in their father’s footsteps by attending law school. His career was thriving, his marriage was solid, and they were raising a beautiful daughter.
Olivia had opted for medical school. She had remained on the East Coast without hesitation, married the love of her life, and still managed to find time to have two wonderful children.
Even Owen had carved out his own niche. He was a self-taught coder and part-owner of a cybersecurity firm. He tended to be rather private, and it wouldn’t surprise Dylan if his brother just showed up at one of their weekly family dinners with a wife on his arm.
Then there was Kinsley. She hadn’t hesitated to go against the grain, working on the opposite side of the justice system from their father. She was stubborn, determined, and set in her ways. From Dylan’s perspective, there hadn’t been a moment in her life when she wasn’t sure of her path. So much so, she had allowed the rift between father and daughter to stay until recently because of her strong sense of right and wrong.
Their father had referred to his deceit as a professional duty. Kinsley had called it a betrayal of everything she stood for. Dylan, on the other hand, had called it another reason why family dinners had become exercises in carefully navigating conversational minefields. He could only hope that Kinsley’s current change of heart meant she was softening her expectations of others.
Her view on life’s roles was one of the reasons he hadn’t revealed his relationship with Lydia. It was new…fragile. And one he was genuinely happy about.
Kinsley, on the other hand, would no doubt have strong opinions about him dating her best friend.He and Lydia had been circling each other for months, engaging in casualconversations that carried undercurrents neither was quite ready to acknowledge.
Three weeks ago, they had finally given in to their attraction.
It had been both inevitable, electrifying, and terrifying all at the same time.
But he was finally ready to settle down and plant some roots of his own.
Dylan shifted in the seat to pull his phone from his back pocket. He accessed his messages, pressing on Lydia’s name.
Just pulled in.*
He then pressed the send button.
They had agreed to meet after Lydia's dinner with Kinsley, which is why he had deliberately delayed his arrival. The Plow was his usual weekend spot, but Kinsley was skilled at sensing when he was lying or hiding something. She had been able to do so since they were kids.
Dylan pocketed his keys before opening the door. As he stepped out of his truck, the humidity seemed to have risen a bit. He didn’t mind, though. Precipitation was on the horizon, and the fields could definitely use some rain.
