Emily Kenyon 01 - A Cold Dark Place

said she was the only one who understood what he was going through. They talked about each other’s lives. Friends, family-all of the things that held any real importance. In some ways Dylan Walker was the perfect man. He could charm. He was gorgeous. He made her laugh. Best of all, she didn’t have to live with him.
    The only downside, she thought, was that part about him being suspected of being a serial killer. So harsh. So wrong!
    The salmon was perfect, just as Olga had promised. But Emily Kenyon only picked at it as Tina Esposito went on with her story of unrequited prison love. The combination of a woman in love with a creep-handsome as he was made the detective’s skin crawl.
    “How long did you keep it up? Visiting him?” Emily asked.
    Tina swallowed and dabbed her mouth. “Too long. I think I saw him for about a year and half. And that’s when Bonnie came into this.”
    “I thought she came to the trial.”
    “She did. She came a few times, only because I didn’t want to go alone. I think I was starstruck or something and wanted someone to blather to about Dylan.”
    She finished her second martini and it was clear as she looked about the darkened restaurant that Tina Winston Esposito was contemplating a third.
    “What happened with Bonnie?”
    “I really can’t blame her. Not exactly. I told her to write to him. She was lonely and he liked getting mail. So she did. I had no idea that it would turn out the way it did. I was in love with him and I trusted her. I know that it is crazy,” she said, her voice rising a little, “but I’m still mad at her. Ultimately she did me a favor, I guess. But my blood still boils when I think about how I found out”
    “What? What happened?”
    “I’m going to have one more drink. Then, as the kids say, I’m going to rock your world.”
    “I’m ready to be rocked,” Emily said. “And I think I’ll have what you’re having, too”
    Tina plucked the olive off her toothpick and smiled.
    The display on the dessert cart at Embers Restaurant was to die for, but Emily Kenyon stopped doing dessert when she turned thirty-five and knew her cheesecake days were out the door along with low-rise jeans and tummy-baring tops. Tina Esposito, however, ordered a Grand Marnier-infused chocolate torte. Considering all the slender woman had consumed during the meal, it did cross through Emily’s mind that she was not only the ex-squeeze of a serial killer, she was likely bulimic, too.
    Emily looked at her watch. They’d been talking-or rather Tina had been talking-for more than an hour and fifteen minutes. And they weren’t getting very far.
    Have to wrap this up, Emily thought. Jenna’s out there with Nick. The police are probably looking for Shali’s car by now
    “What happened with Bonnie?” Emily finally prodded.
    “Oh that bitch,” Tina said, swaying tipsily. “She doublecrossed me. She took away my boyfriend.”
    “But your boyfriend was a sociopath,” Emily said, amused by the absurdity of their conversation.
    Tina tilted her head and slurred, “Touche. But isn’t every successful man just a little bit sociopathic?”
    Emily didn’t say so, but she almost agreed. The concept fit David. It fit that jerk Cary McConnell. Most of the men that had come in and out of her life were more sociopathic than altruistic. Tina took a forkful of the dark chocolate ganache and twisted it upside down in her mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the dessert or remembering a moment with Dylan Walker. Emily wasn’t sure.
    “I guess it is my fault, too,” Tina said quietly when she came up for air and swallowed. “I introduced them”
    As the torte disappeared, Emily listened as Tina spun a tale of being jilted by Dylan Walker. He’d convinced Tina that he cared about her friends and family and wanted to meet them.
    “Family was out, of course,” Tina said. “You don’t think I was completely out of my mind.” She stopped and thought better of her remark. “Don’t answer that”
    “I didn’t say anything,” Emily said, playing along.
    “Okay, so I told him all about Bonnie. She was sweet. Single. Lonely. How she could use a friend. He soaked it all up. Made notes about her, for all I know. Anyway, the next thing I knew she was coming to the prison on my Saturdays” She looked through her purse, Emily assuming that she was getting her credit card to pay the check. Instead she pulled out an envelope.
    “You can have this,” she said, handing it to