Novelas y relatos de Emma Walker Crime Scene

After the last torture, Emma had passed out. She regained consciousness when she was alone. Her wounds had healed and the pain was gone but she could still feel a dull throbbing in her head. The room reeked of blood which was everywhere. The place looked and smelled like a murder scene. Emma got up from her seat and went towards a table that had a jar of water. She took it and placed it near her nose, smelling it. She didn’t sense any poisonous substance in it so she drank a little, just enough to take away the thirst.

” Emma let a short, derisive laugh and stood from the chair. “I can do anything to save the lives of my kids, and that includes killing. I don't mind wasting your life to keep my children safe, so be warned.” Emma's face had no emotions as she spoke, her voice cold, and there was this hardness in her eyes that made her more intimidating. Alex had never seen Emma looking that murderously before. He couldn't deny that he was scared by her manner of speech. “Thanks for the dinner and next time when you're trying to drug someone, make sure that you get sedatives that don't have a nasty smell. The wine smells like medicine.” A dark chuckle escaped her lips and she walked away, still chewing on he

Emma's P.O.V. Fluttering my eyes open, the first thing I came across was a pair of steel eyes staring into my soul. I was still in a daze so I rubbed my eyes and again focused on the creature who was seated in front of me. No sooner did my vision was clear than a shriek left my mouth. ‘What the hell? What am I doing here?’ With a thundering heart, I scanned the capacious and beautifully designed modern bedroom. But the problem was that it belonged to Damien Knight which wasn’t a good sign, for sure.

she murmured cruelly, and her eyes momentarily wandered to Mara and Dex, who seemed embarrassed under her disdainful stare. “Sit,” Ema murmured, indicating the huge throne beside her. “And spill." Lucas then spent the next hour recounting all the aspects of the case that he and the other officers had gathered: her physical build, how the woman called Amelia was behaving, the interior design, and the location of the bookstore where she performed the act, as well as the surrounding vicinity. Ema merely nodded and listened, from time to time interrupting with the inquiries or more detailed facts. After Lucas’s report was done, the whole room went silent as if dense air had filled the whole room

That was Alice: the prankster, the escape artist, the one who always found a door where there was only a wall. The morgue was cold. Too bright. It smelled like bleach and something else, something chemical and wrong; formaldehyde and the ghost of every body that had passed through these stainless-steel doors. Alexa's boots squeaked on the linoleum. She focused on the sound to keep from floating away. The detective looked at Alexa and then to the attendant, a young man with bad skin and kind eyes who probably hadn't slept in thirty hours. He nodded once, solemn as a priest, and pulled back the sheet.