What Lies Behind
Critically acclaimed New York Times bestselling author J. T. Ellison delivers another riveting novel featuring the incomparable Dr. Samantha OwensWaking to sirens in the night is hardly unusual for Samantha Owens. No longer a medical examiner, she doesn't lose sleep over them, but a routine police investigation in her neighborhood has her curious. When her homicide detective friend, Darren Fletcher, invites her to look over the evidence, she jumps at the chance and immediately realizes the crime scene has been staged. What seems to be a clear case of murder/suicide–a crime of passion–is anything but. The discovery of toxic substances in hidden vials indicates that something much more sinister is at play…As Fletch and Sam try to understand what and who they are dealing with, they are summoned to a meeting at the State Department. High-level officials are interested in what they know and seem to be keeping secrets of their own. It's up to Sam and Fletch to uncover what lies behind the deception as the threat of bioterrorism is exposed, and her boyfriend, Xander Whitfield, may be in the line of fire.Unsure who to trust, Sam and Fletch find themselves up against very powerful people at every stage in the investigation. No one is who they appear to be and with every minute that passes, the danger escalates. It's Sam's most complex case yet and the terrifying reality is beyond anything she could have imagined.
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Critically acclaimed New York Times bestselling author J. T. Ellison delivers another riveting novel featuring the incomparable Dr. Samantha Owens
Waking to sirens in the night is hardly unusual for Samantha Owens. No longer a medical examiner, she doesnât lose sleep over them, but a routine police investigation in her neighborhood has her curious. When her homicide detective friend, Darren Fletcher, invites her to look over the evidence, she jumps at the chance and immediately realizes the crime scene has been staged. What seems to be a clear case of murder/suicideâa crime of passionâis anything but. The discovery of toxic substances in hidden vials indicates that something much more sinister is at playâ¦
As Fletch and Sam try to understand what and who they are dealing with, they are summoned to a meeting at the State Department. High-level officials are interested in what they know and seem to be keeping secrets of their own. Itâs up to Sam and Fletch to uncover what lies behind the deception as the threat of bioterrorism is exposed, and her boyfriend, Xander Whitfield, may be in the line of fire.
Unsure who to trust, Sam and Fletch find themselves up against very powerful people at every stage in the investigation. No one is who they appear to be and with every minute that passes, the danger escalates. Itâs Samâs most complex case yet and the terrifying reality is beyond anything she could have imagined.
For the late great John Seigenthaler (1927â2014)
And, as always, for Randy
Contents
HE WATCHED. BECAUSE thatâs what he did. Itâs what he did best.
He used to watch in person, but the gods had conspired against him, and now it was safer for him to watch remotely. Not as satisfying, but it got the job done.
When on the hunt, he lived behind the bank of computersâeating, drinking, barely leaving to shower and sleep. He watched, and bided his time. Patient. Ever patient. Said the spider to the fly.
They were so stupid, really, to think what they said and did online was remotely secure. A private direct message sent from a burner account, a text gone astray, a mistaken link. A few clicks in any direction, a little bit of malware, and he had them. Every private thought, every post, everything they shared. They were only talking to their friends, after all. They thought they were safe.
They didnât realize he was one of the nameless, faceless, youâve got the nicest smile, glad you had a fun weekend bots out there, tracking everything they did. Gorging himself on their secrets.
The internet made stalking so much easier. He didnât even have to leave his house until he was ready. Until the urge was so bright, so intense, he couldnât stand it anymore. And under the circumstances, the ever-watchful eyes, this was a very good thing.
In the beginning, heâd relied on his own skillsâhis careful, meticulous planning, watching from afar with binoculars and camera lenses. Developing the film himself so no one would see an overabundance of photos of a single woman in various stages of her life and undress and grief and happiness and think there was something wrong.
Now, a few clicks, and there she would be, in all her glory. Notes to lovers, to BFFs, hearts poured out onto a keyboard. Uploads and downloads and the occasional chic self-porn. A life that was supposed to be private was his to intercept and enjoy at his leisure. And enjoy he did.
There was only one problem. Heâd recognized the growing sense of dissatisfaction a few years earlier. Convenience had usurped chance. His special muscles atrophied. The watching took on a mechanical air. Distant, so distant.
The thrill of the hunt was gone. There was no danger anymore. Physical contact was only made when he came to finish the job.
He missed the chase. Ducking behind buildings, wearing disguises, renting cars. The breathless momentsâhad he been seen?
Smelling the perfumes left on a vanity, the shampoo in the shower, the soap in the dish. Slipping between the smooth sheets. Riffling through drawers, lace and silk gliding against the pads of his fingers. Drinking from the orange juice, touching the lettuce and eggs, leaving bits of himself behind in the sink.
They told him the new world wouldnât be as fun. That heâd have to be careful. But damn it all, he wanted more.
