Page 8 of Silencing Stolen Whispers
“Damn it, Kin.”
“You’re the one who has a box of them in your trunk, Mr. Be-Prepared-For-Anything.”
With an exaggerated sigh that could have earned him a drama nomination, Alex slapped the blue coverings into her outstretched hand.
“You're lucky that I don’t make you walk the scene in your socks.”
“You could try, but we both know that I’d take you,” Kinsley said, bending down to slip the coverings over her boots.
“Did you at least bring gloves?”
Kinsley didn’t respond as she straightened and flashed Drew a smile.
“I’ve got to keep him on his toes. It’s why our partnership has lasted longer than most marriages in the department.”
“Except Haugen.”
“Sam’s wife isn’t human,” Kinsley said dismissively.
“You realize that your annoying habits are the reason why I’m still happilyunmarried, right?” Alex called out from behind the trunk of his Camaro.
Kinsley rolled her eyes as she passed Drew to enter the cabin. Seeing as the door was slightly ajar, she used her elbow to push the door the rest of the way open. She inspected the deadbolt area.
“Dot said the door was unlocked,” Drew advised.
Kinsley wasn’t sure if she could have stayed in such a remote area without securing the locks. Had the victim been that comfortable with such isolation, or had she been expecting someone?
Part of Kinsley anticipated the place to be stifling with a musty odor that clung to every surface. Instead, the space held the faint scent of pine and was slightly cooler than the outside air.
The knotty pine walls had aged to a warm honey color.
From where she stood, she could easily make out most of the cabin’s layout. Directly in front of her was a compact kitchenette, featuring a short wooden counter that held a coffee maker, a microwave, and an empty bottle of wine. The glass carafe on theburner was half full and still warm, if the orange light was any indication.
To her right was a refrigerator and an oven.
In the center of the room, a worn leather couch and two matching chairs faced a large stone fireplace.
In the far corner was a round kitchen table with four chairs. The flat wooden surface was barely visible due to a stack of textbooks, a laptop, several pens, and loose pieces of paper. There also seemed to be some empty hostess wrappers, what appeared to be some leftover food, and a coffee mug in the mix.
It wasn’t until Kinsley carefully made her way across the hardwood floor that she finally picked up the metallic scent of blood. The coppery odor hung in the air, subtle since the sliding glass door had been pushed aside for a screened entryway. She could just make out what looked to be a single wine glass sitting on a small table on the back deck.
Kinsley came to a stop next to one of the chairs.
A purse was left on the seat, open enough to show its contents. Everything appeared undisturbed. The wallet inside was securely closed.
Kinsley heard movement behind her.
“Purse and wallet are untouched,” Kinsley advised, not needing to expand on the subject. Robbery probably wasn’t the motive behind this murder. “Drew said the front door was unlocked, and the patio door is currently unsecured. I’m guessing the victim used the screened door last night.”
Kinsley lowered her gaze to the body and the dark stain that spread across the wooden floor beneath it. Hannah lay at an awkward angle, her form partially obscured by the coffee table. Even from a distance, the severe trauma to her head was evident.
Alex handed Kinsley a pair of nitrile gloves.
“Is that a wine glass out back?”
“Yeah,” Kinsley murmured as she worked the gloves on without taking her gaze off the victim. “A single glass. Empty. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She also wasn’t afraid to be alone out here, miles away from the nearest neighbor.”
Kinsley carefully made her way around the chair to crouch beside the body. She was careful not to disturb the pool of blood.
