Emily Kenyon 01 - A Cold Dark Place

Bonnie’s place,” he said. “I think you should see it.”
    She put her hand out, but Christopher didn’t give it up.
    “Not here. Let’s take it somewhere private. Your room?”
    If it were any other man, Emily would have shot down the suggestion with a laugh and a quick retort. But she trusted Christopher. And more than that, she saw the concerned look in his eyes.
    Or was it something more?

Chapter Thirty
    Sunday, 9:45, Seattle
    “Doing some clandestine research on the case?” Christopher asked as they entered Emily’s hotel room. She nodded in the direction of the stolen stacks of hospital records she’d laser printed off David’s office computer.
    “And, no, I didn’t have a warrant,” she said.
    “I didn’t log this baby into evidence yet, either,” Christopher said, setting the photo album on the corner of the bed. “Nice place,” he said. “They must have big expense accounts in Cherrystone” He surveyed the plush surroundings, deep coppery hues on the pillow-overloaded bed, a gas fireplace, an oil painting that appeared to be original not a massproduced phony like most places have. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The Olympic Mountains off in the distance were nearly indigo and the city lights of Seattle twinkled in the foreground. “My place is right over there”
    Emily stood next to him, feeling the effects of too much Chardonnay. “Where?”
    He pointed to his condo, but when she didn’t spot it, he reached over and turned her head just a touch. “There.”
    The moment begged for double entendres along the lines of I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours-evidence, that is. But both parties resisted. There was too much at stake just then, and the teasing near-romance of their friendship was years ago.
    The message feature on her cell phone pulsed and Emily took the cue to break away from Christopher and the window. She dialed and learned that David and Olga had phoned. She’d call both of them back after Christopher showed her whatever it was that he’d brought to dinner.
    Christopher took the opportunity to dial in for an update on the Jeffries case. His face was stone. No smile. None of the charm that he’d shown during dinner. Whatever he was hearing, it was unpleasant and dark. When he ended the call, he told her that he’d been talking with the medical examiner’s assistant about the Jeffries murder.
    “Overkill, for sure,” he said. “I guess even a rookie could tell that by the scene. Jesus, talk about blood-soaked. ME says that Bonnie Jeffries was beaten and stabbed. Either could have killed her. She was hit with a hammer or something like that-tool marks on her skull are being reviewed now. Looks like at least a half dozen times. She was stabbed with a serrated blade probably thirty-five times.”
    The possible circumstances of her last breaths were more than bone chilling. They were arctic.
    “She had a big set of knives in the kitchen,” Emily said. “I have the same set”
    He nodded. “Right. I saw them. Not yours. Hers”
    “I got that”
    “The ME says she was probably out cold when she was stabbed. Not a single defensive wound”
    “But she bled out, so she was still alive when the killer stabbed her,” Emily said.
    “Sliced and diced is more like it. The ME says that who ever killed her was driven by rage and contempt. Hatred to the nth degree. He drove that knife into her no more than a half inch, as if he wanted to tease her to death”
    “Or enjoy it. Make it linger.”
    “Yeah. We know the type. Some twisted psycho who gets off on torture.”
    “Any trace? Anything at all to tag her assailant?”
    “Assailants, with an S. Had to be at least two. She’s a big girl as they say. ME says she was first hit in the kitchen, then finished off in the bedroom. Posed there”
    The brutality of the attack made her sick. Emily studied the skyline, searching for words and trying to find some kind of calmness in the moment. The idea that there were two assailants was like an ice down her spine. Nick and.Ienna? Not possible. But they had been there. Her mind was racing, but she fought to stay cool. She had no choice.
    “Anything on tox?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “Clean”
    That surprised her somewhat and she turned to look at Christopher. She remembered seeing a bottle of vodka on the kitchen counter and an array of pills. She d expected something.
    “Whoever killed her caught her unaware. She didn’t see it coming,” she