Page 5 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
The precinct buzzed with early morning activity. Phones rang at desks and in distant offices, occasional bursts of laughter carried out from the break room, and keyboards clicked steadily. All of it sounded muffled, as if she were underwater.
“Aspen, donuts are in the break room.”
Kinsley managed a smile and raised her hand in acknowledgment. Shane Levick was proof to her that karmaexisted, and every day, she was reminded of the life she might have had if she hadn't pulled the trigger of her firearm. She often had to remind herself that she was the one who had ended things with him.
“Forget donuts, Kin.” Alex Lanen, her partner, strolled into the bullpen. He was holding two items wrapped in aluminum foil. “My mother made us her famous banana nut bread. She even put in double walnuts just for you.”
“How is Michelle?” Kinsley asked, managing not to knock over the two coffee cups that she had picked up at Carol’s Café across the street. She tossed the cardboard carrier into her trash can before exchanging one of the cups for what she now viewed as her saving grace. “Were you able to fix her water heater last night?”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Alex set both his coffee cup and his own loaf of banana bread onto his immaculate desk. The contrast between their workspaces couldn't be more different. While her desk resembled the aftermath of a minor explosion, with files stacked haphazardly, sticky notes adorning her computer monitor, and pens scattered like Pick-up Sticks, Alex’s space was a testament to OCD. Papers aligned at perfect right angles, pens stored in a leather holder, and notepads positioned precisely beside his keyboard.
It was enough to make her itch.
Kinsley pushed the wrapped bread to the left of the desk before moving her chair back. While Alex was busy hanging his suit jacket on the antique coatrack he had stolen from an old storage room, she managed to grab his banana bread.
“Damn it, Kin,” Alex complained as he unsuccessfully tried to snag his morning breakfast out of her hands. “That one’s mine.”
Alex wasn’t just her partner. He was also one of her closest friends. Their way of keeping their personal space wasn’t theironly difference, though. She was impulsive, while Alex was methodical. She kept her hair in a clip to manage the loose blonde strands she trimmed whenever the mood struck her, while he had a standing monthly appointment for his short-cropped black hair. At forty years old, he maintained an athletic build through daily gym visits and a disciplined lifestyle. Kinsley was over seven years younger, and she jogged whenever the mood struck her. She preferred recreational sports over a strict routine.
He also hated it when she ate his food.
“You’re going to need to be faster on Sunday if you expect us to win in flag football against the fire station.” Kinsley was already in the process of opening the aluminum foil from one end. Michelle had even cut the bread for easier consumption. “Besides, there’s more than enough here to share. You’ll thank me for saving you from needless calories.”
“You need to bring a dessert to your family dinner tonight, don’t you?”
“Secrets corrode the soul, butterfly,"her father had once told her, long before the Fallbrook Killer case had shattered their relationship. Before George Aspen had represented Calvin Gantz. Before her father had taken the stand in court and secured freedom for a monster. Now, George was well aware of what his daughter had done, and that knowledge lingered between them during their Thursday night family gatherings.
“You know me too well, partner,” Kinsley quipped before taking a large bite to hide that she had drifted into the past again. She turned away, finished chewing, then sat down and reached for her coffee with an extra pump of caramel creamer and two espresso shots. She hadn’t been sleeping well, so she had changed her weekday order over a year ago. “What was going to be an apple pie from the grocery store is now going to be homemade banana bread. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.”
“How exactly do I come out on top in this situation?” Alex asked as he pulled out his chair and took a seat. “No good deed goes unpunished. That reminds me, would you let Noah know that Mom received the signed papers that he requested? She said she was going to drop them off sometime next week.”
Noah, her oldest brother, was a family attorney. He had offered to help Michelle resolve some property issues from years ago after her husband abruptly left her as a single mother. Alex didn’t talk about his father often, and Kinsley usually avoided the topic.
Noah was also the only one who had knowledge of the full truth about what she had done. He had answered her panicked call that night and helped her sink Gantz's body into the murky depths of Terrapin Lake.
Noah, always the fixer.
Kinsley had kept from him the fact that she had gone to their father after receiving the first note. She had kept her brother’s involvement out of the discussion, of course. She would never allow him to go down with her. Still, she had given her father a one-dollar bill so that, if or when the time came, she would have legal representation.
“I’m glad that your mother now has some peace of mind,” Kinsley murmured as she grabbed a tissue to set down the half-eaten slice of banana bread. She then snagged another to wipe her fingers. She didn’t want to talk about her brother, so she steered the conversation to something lighter. “Where’s your gym bag? You need to keep up your workouts if you’re going to be ready for the big game.”
“I’m meeting Wally at the park after our shift. We’re drawing up a few more plays,” Alex said, rolling his chair closer to his desk. The wheels made a soft scraping sound against the worn floor. “Those overpaid smoke-eaters won’t know what hit ‘em. Cap says we need to redeem ourselves after last year's disaster.”
I picked up some extra bandages this time.” Some of the tension eased from Kinsley’s shoulders as the ordinary conversation kept her grounded in normalcy. “Pretty sure half our team ended up bleeding last year.”
“It's not flag football if someone doesn't need stitches,” Alex replied with a grin. “Wally has been practicing his spiral. Says he's going to, and I quote, 'make those ladder-climbing pretty boys cry.'”
“Yeah, well, Wally is going to end up on his own slab if he keeps running his mouth.” Kinsley loved the man, but he had a tendency to put too much stock in the talents of those at the station. As Fallbrook’s medical examiner, Wally had opted to join the team. They had welcomed him with open arms, especially since he had been a high school football star, but his taunting was going to be their downfall. “I guess our shirts came in yesterday. He was showing them off at The Bucket last night. Got our names on the back and everything.”
“My name better be spelled right, because last year there was an 'I' in my last name. Who the hell spells 'Lanen' with an 'I'?” Alex shook his head in disgust. “I had to wear 'Linen' across my back like I was some kind of fabric softener.”
Kinsley's laughter came more easily this time, recalling how the fire department had relentlessly mocked Alex and nicknamed him ‘Downy’.
Alex’s complaints were cut short when his desk phone rang.
“Lanen, Homicide.” His expression subtly changed as he listened, reaching for a pen and notepad. “Address?”
