Emily Kenyon 01 - A Cold Dark Place

was the closest anyone really got to finding Kristi. Emily had left the Seattle Police Department by then, moving David and Jenna into the old house on Orchard Avenue. She’d told everyone that her parents were ailing, but the truth was she could no longer face the reminders of what she’d done. Being exonerated by the department’s Internal Affairs meant nothing.
    Not when a missing girl with blond hair and blue eyes haunted every dream.
    Sunday, 7:10 n.M., Seattle
    Emily finished a drink from the minibar and looked in the mirror. All the makeup in the world wouldn’t make her beautiful just now. Christopher Collier would have to see her for what she was-a middle-aged mother heartbroken with worry about her only child. Where was Jenna? What had happened at Bonnie ‘s? She filled the sink and splashed cool water on her face. She’d hoped it would reduce the puffiness of her eyes, but she doubted it. She patted herself dry and put on a touch of makeup and some lip color. She was about to try something with her hair when the hotel phone rang.
    “Emily, I’m downstairs. Want to eat here? I checked out the dining room menu. Looks good”
    “Sure, Chris. Be down in a minute.”
    “Good. We have lots to talk about “
    Emily buttoned up a fresh blouse and slipped on a simple linen skirt. She ran a brush through her thick, dark hair. She fished through her bag and found a gold bracelet that Jenna had given her for Mother’s Day the year before her marriage crumbled. She dabbed on a little blush. This was as good as it was going to get.
    Christopher has seen me at my worst. He won’t mind.
    Sunday, 8:00 nM
    The dining room at the Westerfield was all cream and gold, with ceilings soaring thirty feet above candlelit tables spread with linen, silver, and crystal. The menu was a haute cuisine mix of Pacific Rim cooking. The feature that evening was Chilean sea bass prepared with sesame, garlic, and scallions. Emily and Christopher both ordered it, along with a bottle of Chardonnay from a small Washington vintner that had won raves from Wine Spectator. A little awkward small talk reigned for a while. Christopher had been divorced for ten years. His kids lived with his ex and her new husband on a ranch in Boise. He lived in a downtown condo overlooking Puget Sound and Seattle’s Pike Place Market. He still loved hiking and made frequent treks in the Cascades and Olympics.
    “You still hike, Emily?” He speared a bite of flaky white fish.
    She touched her napkin to her lips. “Yes, but we don’t get out as much as we’d like,” Emily said, obviously referring to her and Jenna. Every sentence seemed to be constructed that way. It only served to remind her of the deep emptiness she felt, the fear she had for her daughter’s safety.
    After a pause, she said, “Thanks for not making a big deal about me being the Emily Kenyon at the Jeffries scene” When she’d overheard him talking about it, he’d seemed forgiving-more forgiving than she had been over the years about what had happened back then.
    He swirled the wine in his glass. “No problem. That case has followed you much more than me. I mean, I was there, too, you know.”
    “Yes, I remember.” Emily sipped her wine, reminding herself she’d had already had what amounted to two shots of tequila. Though grateful that he understood, Emily took the opportunity and changed the subject. “Did you make the notification about Bonnie Jeffries? Should I brace myself?”
    “No,” he said. He set his fork down. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you. Catching up with you, as pleasant as it is, wasn’t my sole motive.”
    Emily felt a flash of embarrassment. “Of course.”
    “We can’t find any record of Bonnie having any family,” he said.
    She thought of the papers up in her room. Tina hadn’t mentioned any children, either. “What about the pictures? Maybe a nephew?”
    “No family. Seems Bonnie’s parents were killed in a car wreck back in ninety-one. No sibs. No husband. The woman lived alone after the Angel’s Nest scandal. Hardly ever went out. Her neighbors didn’t even know her last name or where she worked”
    Dinner continued with some shop talk, some family stuff. When the dessert cart scooted by, both took a pass. Christopher pulled out what looked like an old photo album. It was scuffed black leather, with red corners. Emily hadn’t really noticed that he brought it along until then. She looked at it inquisitively.
    “From