A Cold Dark Place (25 page)

"I hate that we can only be together twice a month," she
said on more than one occasion.

He leaned as close as the guards would allow. "I feel the
same way."

And so each visit went. Tina promised to stand by Dylan.
He 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 Emily. "I don't
even know why I saved it."

Emily noticed that Tina's eyes had watered. Was she
going to cry? Jesus, tell me that I'm not this pathetic when it
comes to men. To David. To Cary.

The return address was the prison, in care of Dylan
Walker.

Dear Tina,

This is so hard for me to write. But I'm in an
impossible position here. I've fallen deeply in love
with someone else. Please don't hate me. Please don't
think our time together was without deep meaning. In
many ways, I owe you the very fact that my heart is
whole enough to love another. Moreover I owe a
debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. You have
brought me the woman of my dreams. Thank you,
dear Tina. Thank you for my Bonnie.

Love,

Dylan

Emily folded the letter and slid it back into the frayed envelope.

"What did Bonnie say about this?"

Tina sighed and shook her head. "Nothing. Not a peep. I
called her. You bet I did. I even went over to have it out with
her. It was so silly. Fighting over Dylan Walker? So idiotic.
But Bonnie and I never really talked again. When the Angel's
Nest thing made the news a few years later, I called her, you
know, to give some support. But she acted like she'd never
heard of me. She treated me like some crank caller. Later the
prosecution came to me about Dylan and Bonnie and her
being mixed up with him. I was married then. I said I didn't
know who either of them were" She took another deep breath
and smiled. "That felt so good."

"I can imagine. What were they getting at?"

"I don't have a clue. As I said, I never saw her again after
Dash I mean Dylan, dumped me"

"What became of her?" Emily asked.

"I ran into her cousin or something at Westlake Center
one day and she said Bonnie had fallen on hard times. She was working as a janitor, I think." She thought for a moment,
and her face brightened once more. "Yes, that's right. A janitor for the Seattle School District."

Tina grabbed her Prada bag and opened it once more.

"My treat," she said.

Emily Kenyon checked into a room at the Westerfield, an
expensive Seattle hotel that ordinarily wouldn't have been
on her list of places to stay. Not without one of those halfprice coupons she got out of a school fund-raiser book, anyway. She was too exhausted to drive another mile for the
cheaper rates of a suburban or airport hotel room. Sure, the
county would pay for the room, but rack rates suggested by
written travel policy put a night's stay at $78 a night, not
$190. I'll add this to the list of things I'm never going to deal
with, she thought, as she set her overnight bag on the travertine vanity. She'd been through so much that day, from Cherrystone to Olga to Tina, that she needed a little time to regroup.
She took a diet soda from the minibar and perched herself,
shoes off, on the edge of the bed.

A moment later, Emily found herself succumbing to sleep.
She didn't fight it. She just let go.

It was early, but not too early for a call to Brian Kiplinger.
It wasn't like he was a churchgoer. Emily Kenyon opened
her cell phone and called her boss, an act that she dreaded.

"Where are you?" Kip said, his gruff voice, not quite loud
enough to hide the TV playing in the background. Emily
thought it was a gardening show, which was a predictable
choice for the sheriff. He was known around Cherrystone as
the "Sheriff with a Green Thumb and a Load of Fertilizer." He
acted like he didn't think it was funny, but those who knew
him understood Brian Kiplinger loved any kind of attention.

"Seattle, at the Westerfield," she answered. "You know
that."

"I didn't know you were on a freaking vacation."

"That's not fair. I'm beat"

"And?"

"What do I have to show for my day?"

"That's right. Tell me" Emily heard a beer can pop.

Emily could imagine the irritated look on Kip's face as he
settled into his leather recliner. She hoped by the end of the
conversation, they'd be back to what they were before the
Martin murders-friends with a mutual respect for each other.
She told him about Olga and the links among Tina Winston,
Dylan Walker, Bonnie Jeffries, and Angel's Nest.

"Interesting, of course. I remember the Walker case. But
it sounds like a stretch," he said.

"I get that, but there is something here. Look, Cary
McConnell told me that someone connected to Angel's Nest
had made inquiries about the Martins. I haven't been able to
confirm it, but I'd bet my detective's shield that Nick was an
Angel's Nest baby."

"And you think this is going to shed some light on our
triple homicide?" He sounded gentler now, but still skeptical.

She ignored him. "Gloria told me that you have the Feds
en route?"

"They should be in Spokane about now. Coming on a
flight from the Seattle Field Office. Two of them" He paused.
"How about Jenna?"

"I have a feeling Jenna and Nick are at David's. I'll call
you when all this gets settled. In the meantime, can you get
Jason to do something for me?"

"What's that? Feed your cat?"

Soft as butter. Kip couldn't stay mad.

"That's an idea, but not what I had in mind. I need someone to tell me if Dylan Walker's in Monroe or Walla Walla."

"I can answer that," Kip said, an air of satisfaction permeating each syllable. "Neither."

Emily acted dumbfounded. "Really?"

"You just don't keep up on your golden oldie serial killers.
He was shipped out to a prison in Jersey a dozen years ago or so. He'd been too much of a distraction for our local systems. I'll call my buddy in corrections and find out where
he's at ""

Emily thanked him and hung up. As she made her way to
the shower she had thought of visiting Dylan Walker, maybe
out of curiosity as much as anything. But that wasn't going
to happen now. New Jersey was out. She'd focus on finding
Jenna and Nick, and Bonnie Jeffries. She turned on the hotel
shower. Steam poured into the room and she stepped inside.
As the water rushed over her, she imagined all her troubles
going down the drain.

Jenna, how I love you. I let you down.

"Why are you ignoring me?"

In the crystal-chandeliered lobby of the Westerfield Hotel,
Emily Kenyon, making her way to the coffee shop for a
quick breakfast, turned around to the sound of a familiar
voice. It was not the voice of someone she wanted to see. Then
or maybe ever. But there he was. The blood had pumped
Cary McConnell's face into mass of red and blue veins. Even
his eyes seemed rosy, instead of blue. If he'd ever been handsome in his life, it would have been impossible to say for sure
just then. He looked like a pinstripe-suited monster, puffed
up and in a fury. His red tie was a blood-hued spike that hung
from his neck.

"Are you stalking me? I said it was over," she said.

Emily Kenyon stood face to face with her former lover
and she felt nothing but revulsion. He'd never been what she
thought he was-the knight in shining armor who was going
to save her from her fractured marriage, the whirlpool, sucking her down. Drowning her. As he stood there in the hotel
lobby, the concierge, a thin, fey man with wing-shaped side burns looking on, Cary McConnell was nothing that she
thought he was.

"You sleep with a woman, you think she cares to know
you," he said. His words were angry and possessive but his
expression was one of worry.

"I don't know why you're here." Emily hurried toward the
elevators and McConnell followed. "I have enough on my
mind. There's no room for you"

He touched her shoulder and she spun around.

"Emily, I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. And to tell you
something you need to know."

She stopped and turned toward him. His anger had ebbed
slightly. "What is it?"

"It's about Dylan Walker."

Emily had never mentioned the name to Cary. He'd had
no clue that she was searching for Walker. "What about
him?"

"He's my client."

"The serial killer is your client?"

"Look, I'm not sure he's a serial killer. But even if he is,
he's entitled to legal representation. I can't disclose why he
contacted me. I'm in murky ethical waters just telling you
he's my client."

"You're unbelievable," she said. "What did you do for him?"

"I'm not playing games here. I'm telling you ... more
than I should. I care about you, Emily. I do. You know that. I
wanted to warn you"

"Warn me? About what?"

"About Walker. Look, I can't be any more blunt than this.
He asked about you. About Jenna"

By now Emily was furious. "What did he want to know?"

Cary took a step back. His face was flushed now. He appeared embarrassed, like a kid caught doing something wrong and lying about it. He muttered something ineffectual, but Emily couldn't quite grasp it.

"What are you saying?"

He looked at her. He seemed almost sorry.

"I can't say. But be careful."

She wanted to threaten to call the police, but she was the
police. "Go. Get out of here" The elevator door glided open
and she stepped inside. As the two brass-plated halves began
to come together she saw Cary for what she hoped was the
last time. He stood staring with what seemed like a genuinely
remorseful look on his face.