“Shane didn’t move that body, Noah,” Kinsley replied with a confidence she felt in her bones. Whatever else had broken between them, she still knew the kind of man Shane was. “Let’s just say he would never have made the decision I did that night. He wouldn’t protect me by tampering with evidence. That’s not how he’s wired.”
“I’m just saying it makes a certain kind of sense,” Noah pressed, though his tone suggested he was thinking out loud rather than arguing. “Someone could have moved the car and the body specifically to protect you.”
“And yet I’m getting monthly reminders of my sin,” Kinsley pointed out, unable to reconcile the contradiction. Someone who wanted to protect her wouldn’t also want to terrorize her. The two impulses didn’t belong to the same person, unless there was something far more complicated going on than either of them could envision. “None of it makes any?—”
Before she could finish the sentence, the sound of the sliding glass door interrupted them. Lily bounded out into the yard with the kind of reckless, full-bodied energy that only a ten-year-old could sustain. She’d gone from eight to ten in the blink of an eye. Her giggles floated through the evening air, a sound so innocent and pure that it made Kinsley’s chest ache with something she couldn’t name.
Gratitude, maybe.
Or grief for how close she’d come to never hearing it again.
“Grandpa is going to make hotdogs on the grill!” Lily announced, her excitement elevating the statement to the level of world-changing news. She skipped to a stop beside them and stared at Kinsley with those bright blue eyes that were so muchlike Noah’s, like all the Aspens. “Aunt Kin, are you staying for hotdogs?”
That trusting, open face, completely unaware of the darkness that had nearly swallowed her world. In an instant, Kinsley was back on that deserted road with her hand on her service weapon and Gantz’s voice slithering through the darkness like something poisonous.
“Do you think little Lily will cry out for her father or her Auntie Kin?” Calvin tsked, as if he were disappointed in himself. “What am I thinking? Drowning in her own blood will tend to make screaming…difficult. Have a good night, Detective Aspen.”
The memory was so vivid that Kinsley swore she could still smell the gunpowder lingering in the air, feel the cool metal of her weapon against her palm, and hear the echoing silence that had followed the shot. She had pulled that trigger without hesitation, without remorse, and standing here now staring at Lily’s face, she knew for certain that she would do it again.
Every single time, she would do it again.
“Aunt Kin?” Lily’s voice pulled her back to the present, small fingers tugging at the sleeve of her shirt. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, peanut.” Kinsley forced her lips into a smile, blinking rapidly to dispel the memory before Lily could observe whatever shadow it had left on her face. “And yes, I’ll definitely stay for hotdogs.”
“And s’mores? Will you make s’mores with me after dinner? Please?”
Noah cleared his throat to capture his daughter’s attention before Kinsley could answer.
“That depends on whether Grandpa can get the fire going. Why don’t you go ask him? And tell everyone we’ll be inside soon.”
Lily nodded eagerly and dashed back toward the patio, calling for her grandfather before she’d even reached the door. The sound of her voice faded into the house, and the yard was quiet again.
“You know,” Kinsley said slowly, staring at the empty space where Lily had just been standing, “whoever moved Gantz’s body, whatever their reason, they’ve inadvertently given me more time with all of you.”
She turned back to her brother and held up her hand, waiting for him to take it. When he did, she squeezed his fingers and held on, drawing strength from the contact the way she had when they were children and the world had been simpler.
“This morning, I thought today was the last day I’d ever get to spend with my family.” Kinsley bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. “And now I get to have hotdogs with my niece and make s’mores by the fire pit. However long this lasts, whatever comes next, I’m going to enjoy every second of the extra time I’ve been given.”
Noah squeezed her hand back but said nothing, and for a while they just sat there together in the fading light, listening to the sounds of their family through the open door. Lily’s laughter rang out again from somewhere inside the house, bright and unbothered and blissfully unaware that her aunt had almost lost everything today.
Kinsley closed her eyes and let the warmth of the evening settle over her. Tomorrow, she would start trying to figure out who had the resources, the knowledge, and the motive to pull a car from the bottom of Terrapin Lake. Tomorrow, she would face the questions that had no answers and the fear that came with knowing someone else held the evidence of her worst decision. But tonight, there were hotdogs to be grilled and s’mores to be made, and she intended to be present for every minute of it.
5
Kinsley Aspen
July
Friday, 8:06 am
Kinsley’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as she drove her black Jeep Wrangler down the tree-lined street of one of Fallbrook’s oldest neighborhoods. The morning sun poured through the branches overhead, casting dappled patterns across her dashboard that danced with each turn. Between the bright rays and a restless night, not even her sunglasses could ease the ache behind her eyes.
“I’m pulling up to the Bell mansion now,” Kinsley said, turning the wheel slightly as she brought the Jeep to a stop alongside the curb. “What did you say the foreman’s name was again?”
“Ken Pfeifer.” Alex’s deep voice came through the speaker system, with a slight distortion on the right. The door speaker had been acting up for the last couple of weeks, but today it was worse than usual. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Maybe another case?”
“I don’t recognize it,” Kinsley said, shifting the gear into park. “Oh, and tell your mom that if she needs anything while you’re gone, all she has to do is call me. I’ll pop over there a couple of times to check on her, too.”
