Page 51 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
“I'm the mop, Kin. I’m standing here in my work clothes—which are now drenched, by the way—holding a bucket while she directs me like I'm some kind of human mop.”
Kinsley couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up from her chest—genuine and unguarded in a way that was foreign after months of careful control. The sound surprised her with its lightness, as if some invisible weight had lifted from her shoulders overnight.
Itwasa beautiful day.
“Keep laughing. See if I don’t put in for a new partner by the end of the day. One who shows a little more sympathy for domestic disasters.”
“You’ll find no better partner than me, and you know it.” Kinsley released her foot from the brake and turned off the engine. “You’ll survive. Listen, I just pulled into the library. I’ll reinterview Jade before touching base with you again. See if anything shakes loose.”
Kinsley observed a handful of students enter the library.
“Give me an hour to drive back home and get cleaned up.”Alex paused to explain to his mother that there was nothing else to be done except wait for Paul.“Kin, make that an hour and a half.”
“We can always meet back at the station,” Kinsley suggested as she noticed a man with hurried strides approaching the entrance of the library. His annoyance was more than apparent. “I was thinking about Rebecca Chambliss on the way over. What if we’re being distracted by this fraud connection? Bailey is clearly hiding something, which suggests that Hannah’s murder has nothing to do with whatever Rebecca had going on the side.”
“I came to the same conclusion, but that still leaves us at square one. Listen, I’ll meet you at the campus. Hannah’sadvisor wasn’t there last week, and we still need to speak with her.”
“Fine, but bring me another?—”
The line went dead.
“…coffee,” Kinsley finished with a scowl, her wish for more caffeine going unanswered.
She reached for her purse, lifting it from the passenger seat. The threatening note was no longer in the interior side pocket. She had torn it into confetti-sized pieces and tossed them in her kitchen garbage disposal.
The confrontation she had with Beck at The Plow had crystallized something important—the man was fishing, not hunting. He had suspicions but no evidence, theories but no proof.The notes weren't the work of someone who possessed knowledge of the truth. They were merely the desperate gambit of a man whose feature story had evaporated along with Calvin Gantz.
The revelation had cleared her mind, and her judgment was no longer impaired. This morning, the mirror reflected a woman who appeared rested rather than haunted. Even the familiar weight of her service weapon was comforting instead of accusatory.
Kinsley stepped into the morning air, the warmth not as stifling as the humidity from yesterday. She locked her Jeep, put her keys in her purse, and headed toward the library's front entrance.
The air conditioning was a bit too cool for her liking, producing a chill that pricked her skin. She removed her sunglasses and surveyed her surroundings. The smell of aged paper and polished wood reminded her of her father’s home office, and the arrangement of chairs and couches in cozy sitting areas made the space warm and inviting, unlike a typical impersonal library.
Soft whispers of conversation floated from numerous study zones, occasionally interrupted by the soft rustle of pages being turned and the subdued tapping of laptop keyboards.
“May I help you?”
The front desk was circular in its design, allowing the staff to easily oversee the main floor with minimal obstruction from the lengthy rows of bookcases. A middle-aged woman was studying her with curiosity.
Kinsley unhooked her badge and held it up for review.
“Detective Kinsley Aspen, Fallbrook Police Department. I'm looking for Jade Patel. I was told that she would be working this morning.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose slightly, though her professional demeanor never wavered.
“Well, Miss Patel is certainly a very popular person recently. Another detective was in here asking about her just last week.” She gestured toward the back of the library. “Jade is working in the reference section, helping with research requests today.”
“Are you Melanie?” Kinsley asked, recalling the librarian’s name from the conversation with Alex. “Melanie Young?”
“I am,” Melanie replied, slowly removing her reading glasses. “Was the previous detective able to speak with campus security? The incident with Hannah’s tires was?—”
“Excuse me,” a woman interrupted without even so much as an apology. She had approached from the left side of the library. She was tall, with a shock of black raven hair kept in a severe bob without a strand out of place. Her thinly veiled impatience was hard to miss. “Melanie, have you seen?—”
“Professor Bigsby,” Melanie replied with a warning. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Detective Aspen is here regarding the Hannah Scriven investigation.”
Kinsley recognized the professor’s name from the list she and Alex had been given by Dean Chambliss. Patty pursed her lipsat the slight reprimand, though something in her eyes softened upon hearing Hannah’s name.
“I apologize.”
