Emma Walker Crime Scene Novels & Stories

His hand brushes the armrest a little too quickly, his jaw tight. The air shifts. He might not know why my words carry weight, but I do. I remember everything now. Not just saying. “But that’s by the way,” I wave casually. “It’s late. I should be heading home.” “Ah. Yes.” He nods quickly, almost flustered. “I heard about—” The television suddenly lights up. Breaking News flashes across the screen. Emma Harris arrested for sabotaging Lila’s Armitage Collection. Footage rolls. Emma being escorted into a police station, hands cuffed in front of her. Reporters shouting questions. An officer stating that she was caught trying to flee the city and has confessed to the crime.

Alex had called the chief of police, Van Christie, as soon as he entered the yard and saw what they were dealing with. He’d held off the EMTs—no point in having them contaminate the crime scene—and directed Luke and Aaron to interview Sofia and Mrs. Schneider (his wife had been sitting next to the weeping old woman on the porch steps, her arm wrapped around Mrs. Schneider’s thin shaking shoulders), and then gotten on his police radio to call Van. Now Miller and Alex stood over the mutilated remains of at least two girls. Alex only thought there were two because there were two heads, but the quantity of blood and viscera strewn around made it seem like there might be more.

I'm trapped in a waking nightmare. Spending all day awaiting punishment isn't fun, especially when you don't know what Zachary wants to do. I tried calling and texting him, but none of my messages went through. The last time I had been this anxious was when I supposedly killed him, and now he's the one haunting me. Emma arrives home late today and when she does, she is covered in bruises and bandages on her body. Alarmed, I rush to her, asking her what happened. "I got into an accident," she tells me, sounding dazed.

She got tired and sat on the ground, panting heavily to rest. "Starting from today, I will never come back to see you again. Wait a few days, I will come back directly to collect your corpses." Lying on the ground, Emma silently picked up a fruit knife and, taking advantage of her aunt's unawareness, stabbed her in the chest. Emma's aunt's pupils dilated, her eyes filled with disbelief. Emma suddenly grinned and said, "I have been waiting for this day for a long time." The siren suddenly sounded. When the police pushed the door open, Emma was lying on the ground, covered in blood. Her clothes were in disarray, and the signs of being assaulted were so evident.

“I just discovered it yesterday when I was dissecting it. And I think it's a very gruesome murder. Since you brought her in half-decomposed after being submerged in water for days, I couldn't check it thoroughly. It was only after her body was chemically cleaned and left for a few days that I was able to dissect her yesterday.” Tyler pursed his lower lip in annoyance after getting Charles' explanation. This means that his assumption was correct. It wasn't Jim who killed Alma. He never even mentioned anything about the blunt object or the beating he did to Alma. He only mentioned sleeping pills and how Alma fell and hit her head against the foot of the bed. Only Alex is the right candidate to

Emma I wake up in a cold place to someone crying beside me. When my eyes adjust to the dark, I realize it’s another woman. She smells like an Omega, but her body is bruised and battered. Her eyes stare back at me. “Where am I?” My words come out raspy, and my throat is as dry as sandpaper. “They took you too, didn’t they?” Her voice is just a faint whisper as if she hasn’t had water for days. "Umm...“

MATTEO The soft hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound in my office. The room smelled of old whiskey and leather—familiar, yet suffocating tonight. My hands were clasped together under my chin as I stared at nothing. Thinking. Always thinking. Emily Thompson was still alive. I didn’t need proof, I could feel it. People like her don’t just vanish into smoke, they hide, and they run. But I won't stop chasing. The loud sound of a knock on the door dragged me out of my thoughts. I glared at Dominic as he walked his way towards my desk, looking like he had just handled two brutal cases in less than thirty minutes.

Emma lifted her hand and gently placed my fingers back on her neck like she was daring me. “You can try again,” she whispered, eyes glittering. “If you need further confirmation.” She waited for a beat, but I couldn't do anything. My hands remained slack around her neck as I stared at her in absolute shock. This wasn't the sweet, innocent, and docile Emma that I knew. This was a witch, a demon in a skin. When I didn't do anything, she pushed my hands away and sat up, smoothed her robe, and looked down at me like I was already beneath her.

“I can arrest you right now. We have enough.” “Good.” My voice is calm, steady. “I’d love the chance to sue Velmara PD. Embarrass you a little. You’d look cute in court.” He exhales, sits back down, regrouping. “So… you didn’t kill her?” I don’t answer. Instead, I tilt my head. “Where did you find Emma?” “I can’t tell you that.” “Okay. Did you test how old the blood was?” “Why would we do that?”

DANTE Three days after our conversation about Marcus, Viktor walks into my office with an expression I've learned to dread. "We have a problem," he says without preamble. "Torres?" "No. Different problem." He sets his tablet on my desk, pulling up surveillance footage. "Emma Sinclair met with someone yesterday. It's a woman we haven't seen before." I watch the video of Emma, sitting in a coffee shop in Brooklyn, talking animatedly with a blonde woman in her thirties. They're too far from the microphone for clear audio, but their body language suggests this isn't a casual conversation.