The Collection Girls, Emily Slate FBI Mystery Series - Book 2

When a federal judge’s daughter goes missing without a trace, it will be up to recently-reinstated FBI agent Emily Slate to find her. Only Emily doesn’t realize what dangers lurk at the edges of this unique case.

Special Agent Emily Slate is a woman on the hunt. After returning home from the town of Stillwater, she’s more haunted than ever. Ghosts she thought she’d laid to rest have suddenly reared their heads, and the only person who can answer her questions has disappeared.

Meanwhile, a Federal Judge’s daughter is reported missing and it’s up to Emily to find her. As she dives into the case, she discovers a clever and twisted mind working against her and every minute that passes could mean it’s too late for his victims.

Emily will need all the help she can get if she hopes to find the person responsible and bring them to justice. And if doing so means bending the rules just so no more people get hurt, she can live with that.

One, two, three,
You’ll never find me.
Try as you might,
I am beyond the light.

This was a very enjoyable book! The main characters were easy to relate to and had you rooting for them to get things done! The author presented the story in a easy-to-follow storyline and I definitely went out and bought all of the other books in this series!! Very well written and very enjoyable! Been recommending it to all of my friends who are book lovers!! Enjoy!!

~Casey M, Amazon

Utterly fantastic, I loved it!

~Meenaz L, Amazon

“What’s got you so on edge lately?” Margaret asks, sitting across from her best friend.

Hannah Stewart barely looks up from her drink. The music in the bar is loud, but not loud enough that she can’t hear her friend. Her thoughts are so erratic the only thing keeping her from breaking into a thousand pieces is the cosmopolitan in front of her. But she’s doing everything she can to keep it from showing.

“Hannah? Did you hear me?” Margaret asks.

She shakes her head and offers up what she hopes comes across as a genuine smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking about work. We got a brand-new shipment in today and we’ve got to catalog it before we can begin testing.”

Margaret sits back in the booth, her face pinched. “Uh-huh. Is that why you’ve barely touched that?” She nods at the drink.

Hannah puts the rim of the glass to her lips and takes a sip. She can’t afford to get tipsy, not right now. It’s funny, she never would have thought getting drunk with a friend would be something she’d no longer be able to do, but here she is. This is her life now.

She glances around the room, nervous. But as far as she can tell, everything seems normal.

“God, you are so wired. What the hell is going on?” Margaret isn’t someone she can bullshit forever. They’ve been friends ever since college, moving to the same city together after graduation. Even living together for a short time before Hannah moved out on her own after her promotion came through. She knows Hannah, and she won’t let this go. Hannah’s only hope is to resolve this situation before it gets any worse. Before people begin to find out.

“I don’t know,” she replies, trying to sound tired. “I think I’m just under a lot of stress.” It wasn’t a lie…technically.

“That much is obvious,” Margaret says. She reaches across the cracked veneer of the old wooden table. This place isn’t the classiest in Bethesda, but it is where most of the young professionals hang out. Thus, it receives a lot of wear and tear. Margaret places her hand on Hannah’s exposed arm. “Whatever it is, I want to help.”

Hannah wants to tell her; she really does. But doing so would put Margaret in danger, and she’s already made enough bad decisions regarding this whole fiasco. She isn’t about to bring her friend into this mess just because she’s feeling skittish. Alonzo said six days. It’s only been four. There’s no need to freak out yet. Come Monday…that’ll be a different story.

Hannah shakes her head and takes a long sip from the cosmo, perhaps more than she should, but she needs something for her nerves. She plasters the best smile she can on her face and levels her gaze at her friend. “How’s the new project going? Are you making any headway?”

She sees the sadness in Margaret’s eyes as her friend pulls her hand back. It’s obvious she’s hurting the person she trusts more than anyone. She just wishes she could tell her it’s for her own good. If Margaret finds out what Hannah has gotten herself into, not only will she be appalled, but she’ll probably disown her. And right now, Hannah can’t afford to lose any friends. She has to find a way out of this; she needs more time.

“Okay, I guess,” Margaret says, playing along. “We got a couple new interns in. They’re…competent.”

“Like we were at that age?” Hannah asks, trying to keep the mood light.

Margaret smiles. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Hannah manages to hold on to the conversation for the next hour. Draining the cosmo and then another. Finally, by the time eleven comes around, she’s feeling better about the whole situation. Maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. Alonzo is a reasonable person, and if she doesn’t have everything he needs by Monday, she’ll still be able to get it. It’ll just take a couple more days. And who knows, maybe her luck will change after all.

Hannah looks down at her empty glass, her vision doubling before focusing again. Definitely shouldn’t have had that second one, but she needed a pressure valve. These last few weeks have been nothing if not brutal. “I guess I should probably get back,” she says.

Margaret nods. “Big night with Tyler?”

Hannah barks a laugh, perhaps too loud. She looks around, unable to stop herself from giggling at her outburst. Though no one seemed to notice. “He wishes.”

“Things aren’t good between you two?” Margaret asks.

Hannah shrugs. She wasn’t going to mention Tyler tonight, but considering everything else she’s been keeping from Margaret, she owes her this one. “Things are…okay. They’re not terrible, it’s just…”

“Not knocking your socks off?”

“I guess you could put it like that,” Hannah says, pulling out her phone. She needs to call for a ride-share. Normally she’d walk since her apartment is only six blocks away. But given everything that’s happened over the past few weeks, it’s better to take precautions. She opens the app on her phone, setting up the destination.

“You deserve to have someone who wows you,” Margaret says. “If he’s not doing that, then you’re just wasting your time.”

“Someone who wows me,” Hannah repeats. “I don’t think I’ve ever found anyone like that. You know me, it’s the work that really gets me off.” She barks another laugh, though when she thinks on it, she’s not even sure it was funny. But who cares?

“You good to make it home?” Margaret asks.

Hannah gets the confirmation on her phone of the pickup, quickly showing it to Margaret. Six minutes. “Yeah. I’m going home and right to bed. I’ve…got a lot going on tomorrow.” She tries to flag down the server, but the place has only gotten busier as they’ve been sitting here. It’s significantly more crowded than it was an hour ago.

Hannah stands and the room tips slightly. She holds on to the table to get her balance, then makes her way over to the bar where she has to almost yell to get the bartender’s attention. She points out her table and tells him to put it all on her tab. Margaret deserves some free drinks considering what a shitty friend Hannah has been to her lately.

Once she closes out the tab she makes her way back to the table.

Margaret looks behind her, like Hannah might be hiding it behind her back. “Where’s the bill?”

“It’s all taken care of,” Hannah says.

Margaret shakes her head. “You must be feeling really guilty. I can’t remember the last time you paid.”

Hannah can’t help her emotions from rising to the surface and she turns away.

“Hey,” Margaret says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…c’mon, I’ll ride with you back to your place.”

Hannah shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. I just…I need some time alone.”

“Hannah,” Margaret calls as she walks away. But right now Hannah can’t even look her in the eyes. She’s right, she’s been a shitty friend and a shitty person. But come Monday, all of that is going to change. She’s going to start making better decisions. She’s going to get out from under this bridge she’s found herself under. It’s time to start living a life other people can be proud of her for. It’s time to stop being so damn selfish.

Hannah heads out of the bar on to the side of the street to wait for the ride-share. She’s going to make this up to Margaret. And everyone. She just needs to figure out how. There are a couple other groups of young people out here, most huddled in groups, smoking cigarettes, or vaping. Hannah checks her phone. Only two minutes until the car gets here. Based on the map, it’s only about a block and a half away. She takes in the cool evening air and shivers, wishing she’d brought a jacket. She hadn’t realized how chilly it was going to be tonight.

The world tips and moves, and she wishes she hadn’t had that second cosmo. They always go to her head. She should have stuck with something tamer, like an IPA. She has to lean up against a signpost so she doesn’t accidentally tip over or trip, which would make things ten times worse. All she needs to do is get in the car and get home. Then she can crawl under the covers and figure all of this out tomorrow.

But as she’s standing there, she becomes aware of how quiet it’s gotten. The groups of people have disappeared, either dispersing or heading back inside. And Hannah feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She glances behind her, trying to do her best to focus, but it’s difficult with all the shadows along the street. Is there someone standing down there, at the end of the block, watching her?

She can’t be sure. All she knows is that she’s a target. Where the hell is that car? She reaches into her purse and wraps her fingers around the small can of mace she’s been carrying for the past six months. Her heart is pumping. Should she go back inside? Or is she over-reacting? She blinks again and the shadow person seems to disappear. Were they even there to begin with?

Finally, a pair of lights comes rolling down the block. Hannah lets go of the mace and pulls out her phone again, checking the make and the model of the car, along with the license plate. All of them match up with what’s shown on the app.

The car rolls to a crawl in front of her and the passenger side window rolls down. “Hannah?”

She smiles. “That’s me.” Finally. Some relief. She opens the rear door and slips into the back seat, slamming it shut behind her. Shutting out any possibility of that person grabbing her…or worse.

“Wedgewood apartments, right?” the driver asks.

“Yes, thanks,” Hannah replies, sinking back into the seat and relaxing for what seems like the first time all evening. The world continues to spin when she closes her eyes, but it no longer matters. The car rumbles on beneath her and she takes a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay.

“Fun night?” the driver asks.

“I guess,” she replies. “Do you mind if we don’t talk? I’d just like to get home.”

“No problem.”

As the car makes its turns and begins heading down the main thoroughfare, Hannah can’t quit thinking about that look on Margaret’s face. She had hoped going out tonight would help relieve some of her stress, but now Margaret’s pissed, and she feels like crap. She should have realized until she resolved this situation with Alonzo, she’d have to keep everyone at arm’s length. But after Monday it’s going to be a different story. After Monday she’s going to come clean…even go to the cops if she has to. She’s tired of being intimidated.

The back of this car is stuffy. She opens her eyes and tries to roll down the window, but when she pushes the button it doesn’t respond.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Can you unlock the windows? It’s a little stuffy back here.”

The driver doesn’t respond.

Hannah sits up a little straighter. Now that she thinks about it, how long has she been in this car? She looks at the app on her phone and realizes they are way off-course. Her apartment is in the opposite direction.

“Hey,” she says. “What the hell? You can’t just go wherever you want. They’re tracking you.”

She’s about to dial 911 when the driver speaks again. “I wouldn’t do that, Hannah. You don’t want word to get out, do you?”

A chill runs down her spine. She leans forward, trying to see the driver’s face, but he’s put some kind of mask on, she can’t see him anymore. What did he look like before, when he picked her up? “Alonzo said I had until Monday! You have to give me the time, I’ll have everything as we agreed!”

The driver brings the car to a stop. Hannah tries the doors, but they’re locked and she doesn’t see any way to unlock them. As she’s working the handle, just wanting to get out of this situation, there’s a pinch on her exposed thigh. She turns back to see the driver removing an empty needle from her leg.

“What the hell is this?” she yells. She fumbles for her phone again, but before she can dial, it’s knocked from her hands. She tries searching for it, but her vision is going hazy and she’s having trouble concentrating. Her eyes are heavy, though she knows she can’t fall asleep. She has to get away from here. She tries for the door again, but she doesn’t even have the strength to pull the handle anymore.

Hannah flops back onto the seat, her head feeling like it’s going numb. The last thing she hears before her world goes dark is, “Sorry, Hannah. But you’re not going to make that appointment after all.”

Books in The Emily Slate FBI Mystery Series