In The Night (An Elle Keen FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 4)

By Ava Strong

When a new serial killer bases his crimes on geometric patterns, FBI Agent Elle Keen and her unique talent for code-breaking must outsmart him before another innocent victim is calculated.

“The plot has many twists and turns, but it is the ending, which I did not see coming at all, that totally defines this book as one of the most riveting that I have read in years.”
—Reader review for Not Like Us
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IN THE NIGHT is book #4 in a long-anticipated new series by #1 bestseller Ava Strong, whose bestseller NOT LIKE US (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star ratings and reviews. The series begins with IN THE DARK (book #1).

An enthralling crime thriller with a captivating and complex female protagonist, Elle Keen is a riveting mystery series with non-stop action, suspense, and unexpected plot twists that are guaranteed to keep you on the edge of your seat well into the night. Fans of Robert Dugoni, Karin Slaughter, and Lisa Gardner are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are also available.

“This is a chilling, suspenseful page turner that just might leave you scared at night!”
—Reader review for Not Like Us
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Very intriguing, kept me turning page after page… Lots of twists and turns and a very unexpected ending. Cannot wait for the next in this series!”
—Reader review for Not Like Us
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“A roller coaster ride of events… Can’t put down until you finish it!”
—Reader review for Not Like Us
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“Excellent read with very realistic characters that you become emotionally invested in… Couldn't put it down!”
—Reader review for The Death Code
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“An excellent read, lots of twists and turns, with a surprising ending, leaving you wanting to read the next book in the series! Well done!”
—Reader review for The Death Code
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“Well worth the read. Cannot wait to see what happens in the next book!”
—Reader review for The Death Code
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“Quickly became a story I couldn’t put down! I highly recommend this book!”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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“I really enjoyed the fast-paced action, plot design and characterization... I didn't want to put the book down and the ending was a total surprise.”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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“The characters are extremely well developed… There are twists and turns in the plot that kept me guessing. An extremely well written story.”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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“One of the best books I have ever read… The ending was perfect and surprising. Ava Strong is an amazing writer.”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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“Holy cow, what a rollercoaster… Many times I absolutely KNEW who the killer was—only to be proven wrong each time. I was completely surprised by the ending. I have to say, I am thrilled that this is the first in a series. My only complaint is that the next one isn't out yet. I need it!”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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“An incredible, intense, spellbinding, enjoyable story. It will keep you captivated until the end.”
—Reader review for His Other Wife
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Ava Strong
• Release date: May 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9781094383972

Book preview

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I N   T H E

N I G H T

(an elle keen suspense thriller —book 4)

a v a   s t r o n g

Ava Strong

Ava Strong is author of the REMI LAURENT mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the ILSE BECK mystery series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the STELLA FALL psychological suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the DAKOTA STEELE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the LILY DAWN suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); the MEGAN YORK FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); the SOFIA BLAKE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); the AMY RUSH FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); the ELLE KEEN FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); and the LEXI COLE suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting).

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Ava loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.avastrongauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2024 by Ava Strong. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BOOKS BY AVA STRONG

ELLE KEEN FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IN THE DARK (Book #1)

IN THE WAY (Book #2)

IN THE EYES (Book #3)

IN THE NIGHT (Book #4)

IN THE SILENCE (Book #5)

AMY RUSH FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

TWISTED TRUTH (Book #1)

TWISTED GAME (Book #2)

TWISTED SECRET (Book #3)

TWISTED FATE (Book #4)

TWISTED VOW (Book #5)

SOFIA BLAKE FBI SUSPSENSE THRILLER

NO ONE THERE (Book #1)

NO ONE LEFT (Book #2)

NO ONE HOME (Book #3)

NO ONE TO HELP (Book #4)

NO ONE LIKE THIS (Book #5)

MEGAN YORK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

YOU’LL BE SORRY (Book #1)

YOU’LL BE NEXT (Book #2)

YOU’LL BE MINE (Book #3)

YOU’LL BE FIRST (Book #4)

YOU’LL BE GONE (Book #5)

LILY DAWN FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

STILL ALIVE (Book #1)

STILL HOPE (Book #2)

STILL AWAKE (Book #3)

STILL HERE (Book #4)

STILL MAD (Book #5)

REMI LAURENT FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE DEATH CODE (Book #1)

THE MURDER CODE (Book #2)

THE MALICE CODE (Book #3)

THE VENGEANCE CODE (Book #4)

THE DECEPTION CODE (Book #5)

THE SEDUCTION CODE (Book #6)

ILSE BECK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT LIKE US (Book #1)

NOT LIKE HE SEEMED (Book #2)

NOT LIKE YESTERDAY (Book #3)

NOT LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOT LIKE SHE THOUGHT (Book #5)

NOT LIKE BEFORE (Book #6)

NOT LIKE NORMAL (Book #7)

STELLA FALL PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

HIS OTHER WIFE (Book #1)

HIS OTHER LIE (Book #2)

HIS OTHER SECRET (Book #3)

HIS OTHER MISTRESS (Book #4)

HIS OTHER LIFE (Book #5)

HIS OTHER TRUTH (Book #6)

DAKOTA STEELE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

WITHOUT MERCY (Book #1)

WITHOUT REMORSE (Book #2)

WITHOUT A PAST (Book #3)

WITHOUT PITY (Book #4)

WITHOUT HOPE (Book #5)

LEXI COLE SUSPENSE THRILLER

FEAR THE DARK (Book #1)

FEAR THE SILENCE (Book #2)

FEAR THE COLD (Book #3)

FEAR THE NIGHT (Book #4)

FEAR THE TRUTH (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

PROLOGUE

The gentle hum of the office printers and the soft clacking of keyboards formed a familiar resonance as Jasmine leaned back in her chair, eyes tracing the contours of the freshly inked city park design sprawled across her desk. A small smile played on her lips; satisfaction bloomed within her chest like a rare flower nurtured by months of dedication. The final strokes of her pen had just animated the park's winding pathways and vibrant greenery, ushering the blueprint from conception to near completion.

Perfect, she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

Jasmine rose, stretching limbs weary from hours hunched over architectural plans and renderings. She gathered the documents, rolled them with practiced care, and secured them with a rubber band. Her fingertips grazed over the smooth paper, lingering on the lines that represented countless decisions, revisions, and iterations.

With the plans under her arm, she walked towards the frosted glass partition and tapped lightly on the door, signaling the end of another long day. On cue, the door swung open and the warm glow from her assistant's desk beckoned.

Emma, Jasmine began, her voice steady but ripe with the thrill of completion, these are the final changes. The amphitheater shifted three feet to the left—better sightlines—and I've added more lighting along the main walkway. Safety, you know?

Emma, ever the attentive listener, nodded, her eyes scanning the notations with the precision of someone who knew the project almost as intimately as Jasmine did. She made quick notes on her tablet, her digital pen dancing over the screen in sync with Jasmine's directives.

Got it, Emma replied, her tone professional yet tinged with shared excitement. I'll send these off to the contractors tonight and get their acknowledgment first thing tomorrow.

Thanks, said Jasmine, her gratitude genuine. She trusted Emma implicitly, relying on her to bridge the gap between Jasmine's designs and their real-world execution. As a team, they were seamless, two halves of a well-oiled machine driven by creativity and efficiency.

Anything else before you head out? Emma asked, already anticipating Jasmine's need for thoroughness.

Double-check the materials list for the playground installation, Jasmine instructed, her mind flickering through the myriad of details that composed the larger picture. And confirm the delivery dates one more time. If those rubber tiles don't arrive on schedule, we'll be set back weeks.

Consider it done, Emma assured her, fingers poised above her keyboard, ready to orchestrate the logistics that would bring Jasmine's vision to life.

Great work today, Jasmine said with a nod, feeling the weight of the day begin to lift from her shoulders. She turned towards the exit, the blueprint of the park—a symbol of growth and community—firmly etched in her mind as she envisioned families and friends gathering in the space she had crafted from the ground up.

See you tomorrow, Jasmine, Emma called out, already absorbed in the task at hand.

See you, Jasmine echoed, her voice trailing off as she stepped out into the corridor, the anticipation of the completed project propelling her forward into the evening's embrace.

The amber glow of the setting sun draped itself across the city, breathing a warm light onto the concrete and steel that molded its silhouette. Jasmine's steps resonated on the pavement as she made her way home, each one echoing with the satisfaction of a day's work well done. Her path, familiar and often trodden, brought her to the foot of the bridge — her bridge — standing proud and new against the urban landscape.

With an involuntary smile tugging at her lips, she veered off the usual route. The bridge, with its sleek lines and precise geometry, beckoned like a physical testament to her passion for design. Today, she could not resist the allure of walking through it, to be enveloped by the very concept she had once sketched on barren paper.

As she stepped onto the structure, her gaze followed the interlocking patterns of shadows cast by the intersecting metal beams.

She paused only briefly, feeling a strange welling in her chest. It was often like this. Those things best admired at a distance left an empty ache when brought close.

She closed her eyes and released a long, pent-up sigh, practicing the breathing techniques she’d learned on the stress hotline. She counted to five, exhaling, and then felt better again.

She returned her attention to the bridge. Her bridge.

The intricacy of the design spoke of countless hours spent in meticulous calculation, ensuring every angle and joint could support the weight of hundreds who would cross daily. It was more than a crossing from one side to the other; it was a journey through artistry made tangible.

But the sound of her solitary footsteps was soon accompanied by a subtle, yet distinct, echo. An instinctive prickle of awareness crept up her spine. She tried to dismiss it as the overactive imagination of a mind too often wrapped in suspense novels, but the sensation persisted, persistent as a whisper in a silent room.

Jasmine quickened her stride, her heels clicking more urgently against the walkway. A casual glance over her shoulder revealed nothing but the stretching shadows and the fading light. Still, the feeling of being watched, of being followed, gnawed at her with sharpened teeth. The beauty of the bridge now took on a different shade, its angles casting longer, darker, more ominous figures that seemed to dance just beyond the corner of her vision.

Ridiculous, she muttered under her breath, trying to quell the unease that tightened around her chest. More lights. I’ll tell Emma we need more lights for the park. Yes… She nodded to herself.

Yet her pace betrayed her attempt at a calm demeanor, accelerating with every beat of her heart that now thumped loudly in her ears.

A gust of wind swept through the girders, carrying with it the chill of nightfall and the unsettling suspicion that something was amiss. Jasmine's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her previous tranquility usurped by a growing alarm.

She glanced past her shoulder. This area was mostly empty at night. A few cars sped past, but their headlights were there one moment, gone the next.

She hesitated, and then heard a distinct thumping sound.

Jasmine's breath hitched in her throat as she spun around, a stark silhouette disrupting the perfect symmetry of the bridge. A man, distant yet unmistakably advancing towards her, seemed to merge with the shadows, his face an unreadable enigma swathed in the encroaching darkness.

When had he stepped onto the bridge? She hadn’t seen him.

She frowned briefly, but then realized he was moving.

Moving towards her. Something glinted in his hand. He wasn’t looking side to side—his gaze was fixed directly on her.

Another small jolt of fear.

With the precision of a stalking predator, he maintained a deliberate pace that mirrored her own increasing speed.

Her heart hammered against her ribcage, each beat a deafening drum in her chest. Rational thoughts crumbled under the weight of primal fear, urging her to flee, to escape the bridge that suddenly felt more like a trap than a triumph of her architectural skills.

Stay calm, she whispered to herself, her voice a tremulous thread of sound in the vast silence of the night. But calm was elusive, chased away by the vivid memory of every thriller she had read, where heroines were followed by figures with ill intentions. She could almost laugh at the irony if terror hadn't been squeezing the air from her lungs.

Fumbling with the phone in her clutch, Jasmine managed to extract it with shaking hands. Her thumb hovered over the screen, desperately trying to dial 911 while keeping one eye on the figure, who seemed to draw closer with each desperate tap of her finger. The phone's glow cast an eerie light, bathing her features in a pale luminescence that felt like a beacon, announcing her vulnerability to any who watched.

Come on, come on, she urged the device, as though it might respond to her panic. The call finally connected, and she held the phone to her ear, straining to hear the operator's voice over the pounding of blood in her ears.

Nine-one-one, what's your emer—

The words were cut short as a sudden burst of footsteps echoed across the metal expanse, a staccato rhythm that crescendoed into a nightmare's soundtrack. Jasmine's grip slipped, and her phone clattered onto the bridge, bouncing once before lying still, its screen a solitary square of light amidst the dark.

Her breath caught as she stared at the device, now several paces away, the operator's voice a faint tinny sound calling out from the speaker. The footsteps grew louder, more insistent, battering against her resolve. Fear, sharp and visceral, clawed through her, and she knew with chilling certainty that the bridge she had designed with such care was about to become the stage for something she had never anticipated.

Jasmine's retreat halted as the bridge's rail met her back, a cold and unyielding barrier. A shiver cascaded down her spine, not from the night's chill but from the looming figure that now stood barely an arm's length away. Her eyes, wide with terror, fixated on the object in his hand—an angular piece of metal wrought into a shape too complex to identify in the dimness, yet its sharp edges caught the scant light, casting sinister patterns on the steel walkway.

Please, Jasmine's voice broke the silence, a whisper at first, thinned by fear. I don't know what you want, but… She swallowed hard, trying to gather the wisp of courage that fluttered within her chest. Please, let me go.

The assailant said nothing, his stance rigid, a statue carved from shadows. The only indication of life was the slight tilt of his head, acknowledging her plea with a chilling disinterest.

Look, whatever this is about, we can resolve it. I have money. I can help you, she continued, each word trembling more than the last. Her mind reeled, recalling every detail of the park design, the bridge blueprints—searching for some clue, some reason why this silent terror had targeted her.

But he remained motionless, his intentions obscured by the darkness that enveloped his face, save for the occasional glint in his eyes that betrayed a focus and a purpose that sent waves of panic crashing over her. It was clear her words were as empty to him as the night air they permeated. Desperation clawed at her throat, making it difficult to breathe, to think.

Listen, you don't have to do this, Jasmine's voice rose, a fragile attempt at assertiveness. You can walk away. No one has to get hurt. Her plea hung between them, unanswered, the geometric object in his hand a silent testament to the futility of her words.

Before her thoughts could coalesce into action, the assailant moved—a blur of darkness against the night. He lunged with a predatory grace that was chilling in its intention. His hand, clutching the strange object, reached out