Emily Kenyon 01 - A Cold Dark Place

Walker’s. Since the other victims’ bodies were never recovered, no one could say for sure if they’d been murdered, how the killer had done it, or if Walker had indeed been the killer. The bodies were the missing evidence.
    “Are Shelley Marie Smith and Lorrie Ann Warner in here?” she asked.
    “Yup. But that’s not why I brought this to you”
    Emily looked at him, puzzled. She started flipping toward the back of the book.
    “Stop! Back up,” he said. “You know better than to read the back of a book first”
    Startled by his initial command, Emily missed the playful sarcasm of his last words. She started going backward, page by page; the headlines replayed the story of the Meridian murders from conviction to the discovery of the bodies. It was like a videotape on rewind. Pictures of Dylan Walker looking snarky and charming, handsome and devious. The high school photos of the victims showed them in all their youthful glory. Long hair. Braces. Wide smiles. Hand-wringing headlines covered every aspect of the story. An image of Olga Morris-Cerrino caught her eye and Emily lingered on the photo. She was so lovely then. So young. So unaware that shed marry and be a widow before fifty-five. Emily started flipping the pages once more.
    “There,” Christopher said. “Right there.”
    She stopped. The black pages framed four news clippings. Emily put her hand to her chest. Her eyes were fastened to the pages in utter horror. She felt the air rush out of the room. She could barely breathe. The photos and words were so familiar, but the context of the book that someone had created was all wrong.
    “What in the world?” she finally said. Her eyes glistened with the beginning of tears. “Chris?”
    He leaned closer to her and put his hand on her knee.
    “I know. I thought the same thing.”
    Emily started to cry. It was more than she could take in. “You know what this could mean?”
    “I know and I’m sorry. But it might be wrong, a hoax. A mistake. Maybe wishful thinking on the part of Bonnie Jeffries. Maybe she wanted Walker to be responsible for every unsolved murder case”
    Emily swallowed hard. It was quick gulp for air. She looked once more at the headlines. They were knives stabbing at her eyes, but she couldn’t turn away.
    GIRL ABDUCTED FROM RESTAURANT
Search Continues For Kristi Cooper
    COP KILLS KIDNAPPER
Girl Still Missing
    BOY, 12, FINDS MISSING GIRL’S BODY
    The last article brought a torrent of memories. None of which had ever been anywhere but just beneath the surface. The slightest scratch, a twitch, the wrong word brought her back to the autumn of Kristi’s discovery. With Christopher holding her close, Emily spun her way back to that day.
    In every way, Christopher Collier was there, too.
    The vine maples were on fire, colors so deep red and bright orange they looked like some set decorator’s fantasy of what autumn should look like in a 1950s movie musical. All that had transpired was indelible, a memory tattoo.
    Two Bentonville, Washington, boys with a new BB gun worked their way through a trail as they searched for squirrels and birds to shoot. The older of the two, Tyler Preston, was fourteen and the gun was a birthday present from his father. The other boy was twelve-year-old Mason Davidson.
    “When am I going to get to shoot?” Mason asked for what must have been the tenth time.
    “Not very patient, are you? I guess you can have a turn,” Tyler said, finally handing over the BB gun. “You know how to shoot? See that robin over there?” He jabbed his finger at a bird about twenty-five yards away, a close enough target for him to hit, but not for the younger boy.
    “Yeah”
    “Watch this.” Mason aimed, fired, and to Tyler Preston’s sheer amazement, the robin fell from the branch. He looked over at his buddy with a gleeful smile and handed back the rifle.
    “That’s how it’s done, bud!”
    He ran to get the fallen bird. Tyler looked down at the shiny barrel of the BB gun and shook his head. Beginner’s luck. He heard a noise and looked up, but Mason was nowhere to be seen.
    “Mason?” he called. “Where are you, bro?”
    A faint cry came from twenty yards away. “In here!”
    Tyler set the gun down and ran. He ran to what appeared to be a big hole in the ground. A well? A sinkhole? He leaned over to get a better look.
    “Tyler! Get me out of here!” Mason didn’t sound hurt, but he sounded scared spitless.
    “Hold on, dude!” Tyler looked for a branch