“No time of death yet?”
Emerson shook her head.
“Is he a POI for the first crime?” Lynn asked.
“I only discussed Peters’s death with him. I’m going to press him harder when I talk to him next.”
Lynn spun two photos toward Emerson. “Let’s talk about these poses.”
Their conversation continued into the early afternoon. When they finished, Lynn walked Emerson to the lobby. “I hope this was helpful.”
“Extremely.” Emerson shook her hand. “Thanks for your time and expertise.”
“Let me know if you have questions or run up against any challenges. This killer is good, but he’ll slip up. Most of them do.”
Emerson spent part of the drive back to Arlington trying to get the ME’s office to give her a time frame for April Peters’s tox and autopsy reports. The department was short-staffed and behind on delivery. It would be another week or two before she got the results.
Her partner, Nikki, was chasing down the phone records, but those were taking longer than she’d like. Emerson needed to know if Gloria Stanton was a member of The Dungeon, and there was only one person who could tell her that. But, she’d been terrified to face her fear and venture into the basement of the club.
Once back in Arlington, she was en route to a sandwich shop when an excited young couple stopped her.
“Excuse me,” said the man. “We’re getting married today.”
“Congratulations,” Emerson said with a smile.
“We’re all turned around,” said the woman. “Our wedding celebrant is waiting for us where we pick up our marriage license, but—”
“You’re almost there,” Emerson said.
After she directed them toward the building, the man turned to his fiancée. “Ready to get hitched?”
“I can’t wait!” Grinning, they clasped hands and hurried off.
The cold reality of her cases smacked the smile off Emerson’s face.Gloria Stanton and April Peters will never marry. They don’t get to have a family or grow old with someone. Some psychopath took that away from them.Determination had her digging her phone from her bag. Time to face her fear.
With sweaty palms, she called Stryker.
“Truman,” he answered.
“It’s Detective Easton.”
“Ready to work?”
“I am. When can we meet?”
“Lemme check.” Silence. “How’s four?”
“When?”
“Today.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“Yup.” He hung up.
He was a man of few words, but he was being cooperative. A small win. After grabbing takeout, she walked inside the PD and up to Homicide. Just as she finished eating, her desk phone rang with a call from her captain.
“Detective, can I see you in my office?”
