Page 11 of Whispers Left Behind
If anyone had asked Kinsley about her father a year ago, she would have responded that George Aspen was a family man first and a lawyer second. He had given her cause to question such a belief. As a seasoned defense attorney with decades of experience, he had built a reputation for being one of the best in the field. He was capable of making compelling arguments that could sway even the most stubborn minds.
In her opinion, her father had tarnished any such credibility.
It hadn’t been his controversial decision to defend Calvin Gantz that had her viewing her father in such a negative light, but the fact that he had used her private conversation to aid in the man’s defense. Unlike her reasoning, some residents still harbored resentment because they couldn’t understand why George Aspen would willingly represent the Fallbrook Killer.
After all, the man had taken the lives of two local women.
George had made a public statement on the courthouse steps to convey a message that everyone deserved a good defense. He even went so far as to point out that Calvin Gantz was also a resident of Fallbrook. Though his parents, Mary and Frank, had passed away years ago, they would have wanted their friends and neighbors to give the benefit of the doubt when it came to charges brought against their son.
“I’ll give Mom a call later tonight,” Kinsley responded, matching her father’s precise tone. In the middle of the bullpen, another detective was carefully tying the bag from Sam’s garbage can to prevent any odor from escaping what was left of the tofu. It would be hours before the stench faded from the area. “I’ve got to go.”
“You should know that Lily saved you a pumpkin for next Thursday.”
The olive branch wasn’t even remotely thick enough.
Dylan’s words from last night echoed in her mind. It wasn’t that she couldn’t discern how deeply her father wanted to make amends. It was the consequences of his actions that she had a difficult time forgiving this past year. While he couldn’t have known that by helping Gantz walk free, she would essentially be in a mental prison for the rest of her life.
“I’ll see you then.”
Kinsley disconnected the call with a press of her thumb. Her chest tightened at the emotional distance between them, and a part of her wished she could confide in him. Maybe slip him adollar to hire him as her attorney. He would be bound to keep her secret, but he would also have many more questions than she was willing to answer about that night.
Her gaze landed on the grainy monochrome photograph that dominated the newspaper's front page left on her desk. Gantz stared back with hollow eyes that seemed to cast judgment.
Ironic, really.
Kinsley hadn’t known the man’s mother, but residents recalled her being a cordial woman who tended to her rose bushes with delicate care. A widow who had lost her husband in a tragic farming accident, she had succumbed to cancer over a decade ago. Before her death, she had sold the family farm and moved into one of the middle-class neighborhoods of Fallbrook. The homeowner’s association had taken to tending the lawn for the sake of appearances after Gantz’s disappearance. Considering that everyone believed he had left town of his own volition, no one could force a sale until such time back taxes forced the issue.
The air had turned quite stagnant in the bullpen. Kinsley found it rather difficult to breathe, and she instinctively grabbed the newspaper and tossed it in the small garbage can on the other side of her desk. She removed her jacket, tossed it over the back of her chair, and set her phone face down on her desk. There was no need to tempt fate and have it result in another family member calling to check in on her.
She made sure to collect her electronic tablet before crossing the bullpen. The station had finally stepped into the technological era, and she couldn’t be more grateful. Alex, on the other hand, preferred to type his written notes after the fact. He was currently standing in the hallway, shoving half a donut into his mouth. Neither one of them said anything on their stroll to Room Two.
The only difference between the interrogation room and where Sebastian Hanson waited for them was a single paintingon the wall and a small coffee station. The table and chairs were the same, and the sterile environment needed a lot more décor to be considered pleasant.
“Looks like the drops finally worked,” Kinsley offered up as they came to a stop in front of the door. Alex was no longer blinking three times a second. “And was that your workout bag I saw you bring in earlier?”
“I shouldn’t have taken a break from the gym after our flag football season ended,” Alex complained as he rotated his right shoulder. “I hit forty in four months. I’m getting too old for these types of all-nighters, Kin.”
Kinsley wisely remained silent, though she would need to address the rumors about him and Mitchell circulating at some point. Right now, it was imperative to solve this case so Gantz’s name was taken out of the spotlight. A part of her understood the selfishness of such a wish, but her spot in hell had probably already been solidified. A few minor sins wouldn’t make much of a difference.
“How do you want to approach this?”
“We’ll take our cues from Hanson.” Kinsley made sure her tone betrayed none of the anxiety that churned beneath her calm exterior. “Hanson came into the station voluntarily. Had he not and then waited for us to seek him out this afternoon, I would have put him at the top of our list.”
“Who are you kidding?” Alex muttered as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers. “The spouse is always at the top of the list.”
Kinsley reached out and turned the handle. She was grateful that her partner hadn’t brought up any more theories on the Gantz angle. They needed to follow the facts of the case and not chase ghosts of the past. With a single push, she entered the room first.
“Mr. Hanson, I’m Detective Kinsley Aspen, and this is my partner—Detective Alex Lanen.” Kinsley set her tablet on the table before offering her hand. She waited until the man accepted her gesture to establish eye contact, intentionally avoiding the other man’s interest. “You have our deepest condolences.”
Sebastian Hanson was quite tall. Kinsley gauged his height to be at least three inches over six feet. His back had been to the door as he paced in measured strides behind the table before turning to greet them. He had a runner’s body, as was evident by the unkept fabric of his dress shirt. His tie hung loose and skewed, and his jacket was nowhere to be found.
Grief was written all over the man’s features.
It appeared that Alex wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. She would reserve judgment on whether Sebastian’s reaction and subsequent appearance were genuine or just an act.
“Have you found the bastard?” Sebastian asked desperately, his voice huskier than Kinsley had expected, given his lean frame. He hadn’t glanced in Alex’s direction. “Please. Tell me you know who—”
Sebastian’s voice broke.
