Page 23 of Whispers Left Behind
“…Freddie at the Plow. You remember him, right? A class ahead of us? Anyway, I ran into him at…”
Kinsley continued to scroll through Rachel Hanson’s posts, which consisted of many shared recipes and DIY projects. Switching to the woman’s photographs, there were some older pictures of Rachel with her husband and a handful with her mother. Oddly enough, there weren’t too many with Rachel’s brother or grandfather.
“I remember her,” Lydia said softly from behind the couch. Kinsley had been so caught up in studying one picture in particular with the brother-in-law that the approaching footsteps hadn’t registered through her concentration. “Rachel Hanson. I couldn’t believe it when I heard on the news that she had been murdered.”
“You knew Rachel?” Kinsley turned, putting her knee on the couch to help stabilize herself as she turned halfway around to hear what Lydia had to say about their victim. “How? Yoga class?”
“No, no,” Lydia murmured as she fiddled with the V-neck of a bright blue sweater she had given Kinsley last Christmas. The tag was still on the sleeve. “Rachel went to Eastside. If you remember, I couldn’t get an internship at the elementary school in my senior year of college. I had to help out the freshman English teacher. Anyway, Rachel was a student in my class.”
Kinsley stood to collect the scissors from the junk drawer in the kitchen. She motioned for Lydia to lift her arm to cut the tag off the sleeve.
“Do you remember those bonfires out at Boulder Creek?” Lydia asked in retrospect. “I recall Rachel getting into some trouble in her freshman year after attending one.”
“I didn’t go to the bonfires our senior year,” Kinsley reminded Lydia before setting the tag and scissors on the counter. “I hurt my knee that Spring, remember?”
“You also didn’t go to the previous one in the Fall because you were grounded for sneaking alcohol into a school assembly.”
“You were the one who snuck a bottle of Vodka into the school assembly, and I covered for you because of your date with what’s-his-name.” Kinsley was able to recall the boy’s face but not his name. “Curly hair. Freckles.”
“Paul.” Lydia flashed a smile. “I heard he is some fancy plastic surgeon living in California now.”
Both women turned at the sound of the front door being opened, though Kinsley wasn’t alarmed in the least. She had been expecting her oldest brother. Noah stepped through the door, shaking his head in disappointment.
“Lydia, you left the engine running in your car,” Noah chastised good-naturedly, yet there was a hint of exasperation in his tone. “Someone is going to steal it.”
“Who is going to steal my car in front of a cop’s house?”
“Detective,” Kinsley corrected as she motioned for Lydia to turn around. She had taken the advice to secure her long curls so they were tamed for the evening, but she had missed one. After readjusting the clip, Kinsley patted Lydia on the shoulder. “All good. Go. Have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“If I took your advice, I wouldn’t be doing anything on a Friday night. What fun is that?” Lydia leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Noah’s cheek. “Say hi to the girls for me.”
It wasn’t long before the door was shut behind her with a thud.
Kinsley and Noah stared at one another in tense silence. Her regret at calling him that night was staggering, and she doubted that she would ever be able to forgive herself for such a selfish choice. She had dragged him into her nightmare out of habit and self-preservation. How he could stand to even look at her was beyond comprehension.
Kinsley broke eye contact to stare at the gas fireplace in the living. It was the sole feature that had sold her on this place. She hadn’t gotten her mother’s decorating gene, and she certainly hadn’t inherited her father’s obsessive desire to have everything in its place. The former was the reason that Lydia had been the one to help choose the furnishings, and nothing was going to help with the latter. The only reason why the townhouse appeared somewhat tidy was that she had thrown a ton of stuff in the coat closet near the garage entrance in the kitchen.She didn’t want to receive a lecture from her brother about housekeeping.
“Pumpkin carving went well last night,” Noah shared as he brushed past her to reach the lasagna dish on top of the stove. It was as if they hadn’t shared a moment of regret. “I’ll win this year’s competition by a mile.”
Not once had they spoken in length about Calvin Gantz or what had transpired that night. They had both agreed never to utter a word about their choices, and Noah had kept his promise. There were many times over the past twelve months when she had wanted nothing more than to beg for his forgiveness, but she had stuck to their script.
“Did you watch the six o’clock news?” Kinsley asked as she leaned against the counter.
“I did. Sounds like you’ll be working this weekend.” Noah made no move toward the front door. His blue eyes displayed no judgment, either. If anything, it was as if he was searching for reassurance. “Need anything?”
Kinsley managed to shake her head, not trusting her voice. The reason that he had called her today wasn’t because he was concerned with the consequences of their actions, but rather to check on her wellbeing.
His kind gesture only deepened her remorse.
“Call if you do, Kin.”
Noah closed the distance between them before gently planting a kiss on top of her head. Without another word, he quietly left her home. She couldn’t stop the onslaught of memories that she would have given anything to forget.
“N-Noah, I need help.” Kinsley pressed the phone painfully against her ear. Shock and adrenaline were surging through her body, and she could barely keep ahold of her weapon. She must have dropped to her knees after squeezing the trigger. “I—”
Kinsley pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to stop the words—the admission of guilt—from passing her lips. Bile hit the back of her throat, but she forcibly swallowed it back. She pulled her forearm away to stare at the weapon provided to her by the department to protect the innocent.
“Where are you?” There was no hesitation in Noah’s voice. None. “Kin, just tell me where you are.”
