Emma Walker Crime Scene Novels & Stories

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.

The blonde let everyone out from her body until there was nothing left to bring out. The sound of glass shattering. The sight of red liquid continuously flowing out. The look on the lifeless man’s face. The loud siren of the police cars. The panicking voice of Dakota. The look of betrayal on her face as they met eyes. That exact moment flashed vividly in her mind.

And then she destroyed what remained of the pathway that sourced her journey to Slediv, so that he wouldn't be able to trace her again. When she was sure that her inner being was pristine clean, she calmly returned to her consciousness, to her flesh which was attuned to the environment around her. When Emma opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was Prescott lying facing down on the ground, a few feet away from her, with Annabel next to him. Did something happen? Her heart fell into her stomach then, especially when she heard them not breathing. She swerved from the heartbreaking picture when she heard Amelia's unnatural grunts.

◇NESSA◇ Well when the ambulance had come the bodies were moved and I checked the rooms, but found no clues . Huh what a waste of time , the killer had been so cautious not to leave a clue. Andd again I say if Zeke is the killer, I wont hesitate to rip him apart . I walked out of the building to see Zeke outside "Did you find anything?" I asked "No I didn't " he replied "Okay let's report back to the station and inform Shawn that the scene has been cleared" I said walking to my car.

“I don’t need to prove anything to you!” Emma smiled. “You are already doing so,” she replied and headed back to Sterling Creek. By the time she got to the house, she met an apprehensive looking Weaver and Marcus with a worried Steve. Something had happened while she was gone. “What is it?” She asked Steve. “There has been a murder,” Steve said. “We need you to talk to the soul.”

But my hands are covered in blood and the keypad flashes red every time I touch it. I wake up shaking. Emma’s already awake, knife in hand, crouched by the door. I whisper, “What is it?” She holds a finger to her lips and gestures toward the window. A red laser dot dances across the floor. My breath catches. Emma lunges, grabs me by the arm, and yanks me into the crawl space beneath the cabin floor. We squeeze in just as the first bullet shatters the kitchen window. Katherine starts to cry. “Shh, baby, shh,” I whisper, curling my body around hers.

"I need a cleanup crew. At the old docks warehouse. Yes. One victim. And send the car to the south entrance to pick us up." He hung up and finally looked at me. His blue eyes seemed brighter in the dim light. They moved from me to Ruth's body and then back to me. Emma emerged from behind the crates. Her face was pale, and she walked slowly, as if she were dizzy. She stopped beside me and looked at Ruth. She brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, God," she murmured. "Is she...?", I didn't answer. I couldn't take my hands off Ruth. They were red and sticky.

Emma was a sweet-looking girl with a chestnut ponytail and freckles, like someone straight out of a Disney movie. "We don't know anything," Emma said, clutching Jake’s arm, her voice trembling. "We were in our room the whole time, I swear." Jake nodded. "We only came out when we heard the scream." But when I looked into their eyes, alarm bells went off in my head. I'd seen that look before. Calm, calculating, with a hint of hidden killing intent. Suddenly, Emma’s expression changed. The sweet smile vanished, replaced by a cold focus. She stared intently at my wrist, her pupils constricting.

That night, after Marcus left with the downloaded evidence, I checked on Emma before going to bed. She was sleeping peacefully, Mr. Whiskers tucked under her arm, her face relaxed and innocent. I kissed her forehead and went to my own room. At 2:47 AM, I woke to screaming. I ran to Emma's room. She was sitting up in bed, eyes wide open but unseeing, screaming words I could barely understand. "No! Don't take me there! The bad place! Don't make me go to the bad place!"

Emma made it back to her apartment before the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion slammed into her like a physical weight. She'd planned to dive immediately into the encrypted files Damien promised to send. To cross-reference Victoria's data with her own research. To build an airtight case that would expose Webb, Sarah Chen, and everyone else involved. Instead, she stood in her kitchen staring at the beta-blocker bottle, hands shaking too badly to open it. The crash was inevitable. Thirty-six hours awake. Multiple confrontations. The weight of discovering her own name in a research database, flagged and monitored without her consent.