The Last Murder #8

 

COMING SOON!
2026




What makes a man? The woman he loves or the job?

Sarah Quaid, wife of Detective Steven Quaid, receives hand-delivered divorce papers from her husband. So, she does the one thing he's asked of her for month's. She leaves the state. Her home, her nirvana. But so does Steven. 

Now going their separate ways, Steven to the FBI, and Sarah to who knows where, each of them pursues new careers. Steven is the acting director of an FBI office in New York, and Sarah is now an author. Meanwhile, their son needs both his parents. So why does Steven ignore Sarah's unselfish offer of shared custody?

Will Tiama reunite with his reluctant parents, or will the vivacious Alice Foxx, also in New York, win the heart of the warrior she once lost to the shy, introverted Sarah?

Or is it all moot? After all, a killer on the hunt also has plans for the Quaid's, and one bomb is never enough.

~~*~~

Excerpt:

After several appointments with the fertility doctor, during which she underwent an examination and discussed preparations for egg retrieval, the first step in IVF, Sarah learned she was a good candidate and that, when she and Steven were both ready, they could begin IVF treatments. Sarah went to Steven’s apartment, and despite recent events, she had a song in her heart. She was disappointed he hadn’t shown up for the appointment, but he’d texted that it couldn’t be helped because of the case he was working on.

Still, Sarah told herself that when he learned what the doctor had said, he’d work harder for the family they both wanted. She prayed this would bring them closer.

But when she walked into his condo, the woman in the newspaper picture, Emily Skene, was in the kitchen preparing a meal. From the table setting, it seemed to be for a special occasion. Sarah’s happy song turned into a requiem.

How she kept her cool in that moment, she would never understand, except that she had always been able to push her emotions down when called for. Instead of acting shocked and hurt, she was nonchalant and told the young lady, “Don’t let me bother you. I’ll make myself a cup of tea, read the paper, and wait for Steven. We have a few things to discuss.” Sarah took her key and laid it on the counter. “I guess I won’t be needing this anymore.” She also laid an envelope beside it. “These are the keys to a storage unit containing all of Steven’s personal items, along with the contract for the storage unit. It’s paid in full for a year.”

The girl came out of her shocked state. “I’m sorry. Is he expecting you?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. So, what’s the occasion? No, don’t tell me. Is it one or two months?”

“Two, how did you know?” the pretty young woman asked. She was a brunette with wide eyes and curves in all the right places.

Sarah estimated her age at around twenty, and she was almost the spitting image of Denise, Steven’s first wife.

“I’m Sarah. What’s your name?”

“Emily.”

“Do you work with Steven?”

“No, I’m in college. He works, I mean, used to work with my father on the force.”

“I see. So, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Sort of, but not really. I met him a few years ago, but when I saw him at the college, I was, well…”

“No, let me,” Sarah said, while pouring hot water over a tea bag in a mug. “You had a crush on him a long time ago. Now it’s the real thing.”

The girl's mouth opened, and she finally found her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I fell for him the first time I met him, too,” Sarah smiled, though her heart was breaking into little pieces. She could feel each piece falling away like ice on a warming stream. One by one, each fragment separated from the whole, a sharper, more piercing pain as it floated away.

“Thank you for the tea. I’ll sit here and wait. Please, get on with your prep. It smells wonderful. Lasagna?”

“Yes, my mom’s recipe. Uh, I was just getting ready to take a shower.”

“Please, go. Is there anything I can do here?” She indicated the kitchen and all the pots.

“Oh, no. It’s all done. Just keeping it warm. Thank you.”

Sarah smiled, opened a cupboard, and took out the Tylenol. “You don’t mind, do you? I feel a headache coming on.”

“No, please, help yourself.”

“Thanks.” She downed the Tylenol and moved to the living room. “Mind if I play some music?”

But Emily had already slipped into the bedroom.

Sarah didn’t bother turning on the stereo. She stood at the window overlooking the park. She removed her wedding rings and set them on the windowsill. They sparkled in the sunlight. She recalled the Christmas when Steven presented them to her. A replacement for the ones Scott Chase had thrown into the Bering Sea. They had stood for so much, but now they meant nothing.

It was a beautiful day. In April, everything was turning green, and colorful flowers were finally budding. Anchorage was a beautiful city, but in the spring and summer, especially so, as everyone did their best to keep it that way after the depressing darkness of winter.

But she didn’t notice any of it. All she could focus on was her world falling apart as she tried to make sense of how it all happened. They had been so happy. But suddenly, everything changed. She searched her mind for answers, feeling she had missed something. Could it really be PTSD? No, that couldn’t be it. The last time he experienced it, he had worked tirelessly to save his family, not to destroy it. What exactly had gone wrong?

Suddenly, the light was too much, and she grabbed her purse to search for her dark glasses, slightly panicked because she knew a migraine was coming.

When the door opened, she didn’t even turn around. She simply shouldered her purse and closed her eyes against the glare.

“Fuck me!” Steven said the moment he saw her. Sarah barely moved. “Where’s your security detail, Sarah?”

“Elliott’s here,” she lied. Nothing made him angrier than when she ‘escaped’ from captivity—security.

"Where’s his car?"

“He dropped me off. Maybe he’s still parking. Elliott doesn’t matter. I came here to talk. I want to know what’s changed.” Sarah spoke without turning.

“Where’s Emily?”

“She’s getting herself presentable for your two-month anniversary dinner.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

She finally faced him, determined not to show weakness. “Believe it or not, I’d like to speak with my husband.”

“I don’t feel like talking.” He set a bouquet on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“You owe me that much.”

“No, Sarah. I don’t. But you should know I want a divorce. This isn’t working, and I’m done. That’s pretty much all I have to say.”

Just then, Emily walked out of the bedroom. She looked amazing. Gorgeous.

Sarah was impressed despite the fact that her vision now had an aura. Lights flickered and danced before her eyes to a tune she couldn’t hear but felt—blinding pain. She moved toward the door. She had to leave before she made a fool of herself.

Steven walked to Emily’s side. “You look beautiful, baby, but I told you we’d go out. You didn’t have to do this.” He kissed her, first softly, then pulled her in for a long, hard kiss. When he released her, she couldn’t look at Sarah, but her blush said everything. He handed her the bouquet. “Everything smells and looks amazing. Thank you.”

Baby, he called her baby. The term sickened Sarah. After all, he was almost 40, and Emily was maybe 20. She reached for the door.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. Thank you, Emily, for your hospitality. I hope that at some point in your relationship, you manage to teach Steven some of your lovely manners. Happy Anniversary.”

She was out the door before the other two could retort.

Elliott stood in the hall, hands on his hips, glaring at her. “Please, Elliott, don't say it, just take me home.” She handed him her car keys. She finally found her dark glasses as he led her to the elevator. 

They drove in silence until Sarah said, “Apparently, I am as stupid as I'm naive. Even with the evidence right in front of me, I failed to see it. No, I didn’t want to see it. Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t try detective work as a career.”

“Miss?”

“Never mind, just thinking out loud.”

Just as they arrived at the house, a courier pulled in behind them. He greeted her as she got out of her car.

“Mrs. Quaid, this is for you.”

Sarah took the envelope and read the return address.

“If you could sign this,” he said, thrusting a clipboard toward her, but Sarah immediately tore the package in half and handed it back to him.

“But it’s…it’s important.”

“Not to me,” she turned and immediately went into the house.

Elliott, who’d watched the entire thing, asked, “What is that?”

“Divorce papers.”

God, Steven, you couldn’t wait, he thought, but now he understood Sarah’s comment. “Don’t show up here again. We guard this place with guns. Understand?” He gave the delivery guy a twenty. “Have a drink on me.”

“The young man saluted. “You got it! Wait, what do I tell my boss?”

“Tell him to sue. After all, he is a lawyer.”

~~*~~

That's right, folks, this one is more about the romance than murder, but believe it or not, there's also plenty of that. Isn't there always?

😏 

    

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