Can't Miss Her, Emily Slate FBI Mystery Series - Book 5

A shot rings out, piercing the night…

Following her return from a case that has turned her world upside down, Special Agent Emily Slate finds herself sidelined once more because of circumstances beyond her control. Instead of focusing on the investigation that could lead to the woman who killed her husband, Emily is ordered to keep her distance, and assigned a murder in a small Chesapeake town.

But when Emily arrives with newly-minted Special Agent Coll, they find themselves in the middle of a power struggle between two law enforcement departments, both accusing the other of improper conduct. And in the middle of it, a body that seems to have no answers.

As Emily and Agent Coll examine what on the surface looks to be a random killing, they soon find dark desires are driving their killer. And when a second body is found, Emily realizes nothing about this case is by chance. But when she discovers a new revelation about her husband, Emily will find herself ripped between her duty to her job and her duty to the man she still loves.

The killer is out there, and they haven’t missed their target yet.

Summer Sanford sat across the table from her husband, watching him avert his gaze. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.

In an uncharacteristic move, her husband, Brady, had suggested they go out for dinner and to leave the kids with her parents for the evening. They hadn’t had a “date night” in who knew how long. At least six months. Their schedules had just been too packed. If it wasn’t him working overtime, it was her covering an extra shift at the library. Or one of them needed to take Elliott to soccer practice or Judo. Or pick Ashleigh up from horse riding. Their lives were a constant treadmill of trying to get from one thing to another without tripping over each other all the time.

Summer hadn’t expected married life to be like this. They’d fallen in love and married young, and Elliott had come along only a few months later. What little time they’d had for each other melted away. When Ashleigh was added into the mix it only made things more complicated. Had her parents not lived close, Summer wasn’t sure how they could have coped. As it was, they were barely getting five hours of sleep per night, and they were fighting all the time. In fact, she’d argued against this meal because their finances were a mess right now and they really couldn’t afford it. But Brady had insisted.

“Here we are,” the waiter said, approaching with their plates. “Shank steak for the gentleman, medium rare, and a chicken cobb salad for the lady, dressing on the side.” The waiter clasped his hands together and glanced at both of them. “Is there anything else I can bring you at the moment?”

“Another glass of wine,” Brady said, tapping his nearly-empty glass.

“Ma’am?” the waiter asked.

Summer shook her head. Her glass of Pinot was still full. But Brady had sucked his down like it was pure sugar.

“Very good, I’ll be back in a moment,” the waiter said, heading off at a brisk pace.

Brady had brought her to one of the nicest restaurants in town, The City Grill. It was upscale enough that their prices were listed in whole numbers and the bar was four shelves tall and backlit, stocked with everything imaginable, so it was a centerpiece of the restaurant. The kitchen was open, with seats around the U-shape so patrons could watch their dinners being prepared. Summer supposed that was nice for them, but it had to be nerve-wracking for the cooks. She used to wait tables back in college and couldn’t imagine someone watching her try to do her job all night long.

The rest of the restaurant was lit with ambient mood lighting, to accentuate the romantic aspects of the place. It was just enough light to see the other members of your table, but not to be distracted by anyone else around you. A single real candle burned in the middle of each table and its light reflected off their wine glasses as Brady began cutting into his steak.

“Brady—” Summer began.

He waved her off. “I know. But we have the food now, there’s no going back. Let’s just try to enjoy the evening, huh?”

Summer pushed a long breath through her nose. Her husband’s ability to blind himself to the reality of their situation was astonishing. How could he just pretend like they weren’t drowning in debt? Or that Elliott hadn’t been suspended this morning for getting into a fight with another student. He’d protested, but she hadn’t had the patience to hear it. Ever since he’d started hanging out with that friend of his he hadn’t been the same little boy she’d once known. It was bad enough Elliott had to take summer school to catch up with his grades, but to be suspended? There was no way he would move into the tenth grade this year.

“How am I supposed to just pretend like nothing is wrong?” Summer asked. “You can’t just wish your problems away, as much as you’d like to.”

Brady sighed and set his knife and fork down, looking at her under hooded eyes. He was about to speak when the waiter returned with the wine bottle and refilled his glass without a word. As soon as he left, Brady decided the wine was more important than actually talking to her and greedily drank from his glass.

She didn’t like when he did that; it meant he had some bad news, and she wasn’t sure she could take anything else right now. “What are we doing here, Brady?”

“Do you remember when we first got married?” he asked, stretching his hand across the table for hers. She took it, reluctantly.

“Of course.”

“Remember how it was just going to be the two of us, against everyone else out there? That we’d be there for each other, no matter what?”

She withdrew her hand. “What did you do?”

“Whaddaya mean?” he asked, too quickly, pulling back as well.

“You only get sentimental like this when something is wrong. Just come out with it already. I’ve had a long day and we have another early morning tomorrow. I don’t have the energy to get you to open up. Either tell me or don’t say another word.”

Brady took a long look at her, then took another generous gulp from his glass. Great, she supposed she’d be driving them back tonight. After they hiked back to the car, which had to be parked half a block away due to construction around the restaurant.

“I…uh…” He let out another breath before continuing, which only produced a pit in Summer’s stomach. What the hell could be so wrong that he couldn’t even start the conversation? What was he buttering her up for?

She took a drink from her glass too, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever was coming.

“First off you have to know it’s over. I cut it off. But I thought…I mean…we’re not supposed to have secrets from each other, right? So it’s important that you know—”

“Just say it already,” Summer demanded, her heart pounding. She wasn’t so naïve as not to expect the next words out of his mouth to tear her in two, but she held on to a sliver of hope that wasn’t the case.

“I…I had an affair. But I ended it.”

His words hit her like a bag of crushed glass. They left little cuts all over her, seeping deep into her skin, into her soul, confirming her worst fears about him. She had always known Brady to be a flirt, but he’d never taken it anywhere beyond that. But to actually go and get involved with another woman behind her back, to break the trust they had built up over fourteen years of marriage, all for what? A couple of good orgasms? She couldn’t believe her ears.

“Summer, honey?” Brady said.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, threatening to break through. How dare he do this here! Where he knew she couldn’t make a scene. Where he’d be “safe” from any kind of emotional outburst on her part. He knew her that well, at least. He’d engineered this whole thing to lessen the impact on him, the selfish bastard.

Summer wasn’t one of those women who made a spectacle of herself; in fact it was her goal to move through the world with as few people noticing her as possible. She never liked being the center of attention, even when it was warranted; it only made her feel like she had to be “on” for everyone, and that was not something she enjoyed. Whenever they had an argument in the past, they would always wait until getting home before she would even show a hint of emotion. But this was something else entirely. This threatened to overwhelm her.

She looked away from him, unable to stare at his stupid face for one second longer, trying to remember to breathe. The arrogance. The absolute entitlement. He wouldn’t get away with it. What, did he think they would just never go home again? That he could keep her out here forever and never have to face the true consequences of his actions?

“I need to use the restroom,” Summer said, and got up, making her way to the back of the restaurant. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but instead kept a calm demeanor as she moved past the other patrons and found her way into the bathroom.

She locked herself in one of the stalls and allowed the first wave of tears to overtake her. Her breath hitched and she knew if she wasn’t careful, she could end up hyperventilating, which would only make things worse. She gave herself five full minutes to cry before she left the stall and composed herself again.

When she emerged, another woman stood at one of the sinks, applying her makeup. The woman was a knock-out, and Summer couldn’t help but think had Brady had sex with her, or someone like her, as implausible as that was. She’d forever be looking now, wondering if any of the women she passed on the street had been her husband’s secret lover. She wasn’t sure she could take that. But she wasn’t powerless here; the first thing she would find out would be who the woman was. While it might not make any difference, at least she’d know.

Beyond that, what was she supposed to do? They had built a life together. And with their financial situation, a divorce was going to be expensive and time-consuming. How was she supposed to deal with this on top of everything else?

“Rough night?” the other woman asked, glancing at Summer in the mirror.

“My husband just confessed his infidelity to me,” Summer said. Normally she wouldn’t have opened up to a stranger like that, but she had just been gutted. She didn’t really care about consequences right now.

“Oh, honey,” the woman with the silky red hair said. “You go back in there and throw his drink in his face. I can call you an Uber if you need.”

A small smile tugged at Summer’s lips. “No, thank you, though. I just need…” What did she need to do?

The other woman put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Take as much time as you need. Make the bastard wait.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

“I’d go do it for you, but I don’t want to deny you the pleasure,” the woman said as she made her way for the door. “Good luck with it. And don’t be afraid to take him down a few pegs.”

Summer gave the woman a nod, thankful that she didn’t judge her. Normally she would have expected a woman like that to think Summer had not been able to satisfy her husband, and that’s why he’d wandered. But her reassurance only formed a resolve in Summer. She was going to take care of this her way.

She took one good look in the mirror, setting her features and stormed back out of the bathroom and to their table, noticing Brady had already finished half his steak. Had he been eating while she’d been in there crying her eyes out? If she wasn’t resolute in her decision before, she was now. “Get up,” she said.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“We’re leaving.”

“But what about—”

“Find the waiter, pay him, and get your ass outside that door,” she fumed.

Brady looked at her like he didn’t know who she was. She had never been this forceful with him before, always kowtowing to his decisions, his wants. Well, no longer.

As Brady headed off to find the waiter, Summer noticed some of the other patrons staring at her. She grabbed her wine glass and downed it all in once gulp, not even tasting it as it went down. She then headed outside the main doors, waiting in the evening warmth. Part of her thought she should just go to the car and leave his ass here on the sidewalk, but she wasn’t about to let him get away with it that easily. No, he was going to tell her everything, and then she was going to make him pay for this.

A few minutes later, Brady appeared beside her, his hands in his pockets. “So, should we—”

“Shut up,” Summer said. “I don’t want to hear your voice again unless I ask you a question, got it?”

He nodded.

She headed in the direction of the car, clutching her small purse. Inside was little more than a few tissues, her ID, and some credit cards that were close to their max limit. She was already thinking about how much she could spend on getting away from him before her credit was completely down the drain. Mom had always told her to keep a reserve fund Brady didn’t know about and for the first time in her life, Summer wished she’d listened.

“I want to know who she is,” Summer said, walking a few paces in front of Brady as they made their way along the street back to their car.

“What does that matter?” he asked, having the hubris not to answer right away.

She spun on him, only to see a pair of headlights coming down the street dangerously close to the sidewalk. Brady looked at her with expectant eyes, as if to ask her if they really needed to go through all this. But before he opened his mouth again, Summer saw the muzzle of a gun poking out the window of the car barreling toward them.

She screamed.

Books in The Emily Slate FBI Mystery Series