In The Dark (An Elle Keen FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1)

By Ava Strong

When the FBI is faced with its toughest riddles, it turns to Agent Elle Keen, a genius at cracking codes and using her skill to catch the most cunning serial killers.

When a new serial killer leaves behind a haunting music box after claiming each victim, FBI Agent Elle Keen must rely on her sharp instincts and sharper mind to decipher the cryptic melodies—before the next life is taken.

“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 DARK is BOOK #1 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.

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: Mar 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9781094383941

Book preview

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I N   T H E

D A R K

(an elle keen suspense thriller —book 1)

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); and the ELLE KEEN FBI 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)

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

PROLOGUE

The sterile white lights of St. Catherine’s hospital hummed a constant, unobtrusive hymn, accompanying the nocturnal symphony of beeping monitors and distant footfalls on polished linoleum. Belinda's fingers, still gloved in latex, deftly maneuvered to lock away the medication cart as she exchanged her clinical focus for something softer, warmer.

Have I told you about the Chopin piece I've been working on? Belinda said, peeling off her gloves with a snap that punctuated the quiet of the deserted ward. Her face eased into a smile at the thought of the grand piano waiting patiently in her living room, its ebony and ivory keys holding the promise of solace after hours of saving lives.

Chopin? That sounds ambitious, replied Nurse Jenna, her voice low and tinged with the weariness that only a night shift can bestow. She leaned against the nursing station, her posture echoing the fatigue that pulled at her own limbs.

Ballade No. 1 in G minor, Belinda said, eyes twinkling with pride. It's complex, passionate... It's like it tells a story with every phrase. Playing it feels like unraveling a mystery, note by note.

Jenna chuckled, the sound dancing around the antiseptic coolness of the hallway. Leave it to you to find intrigue in music. Most people just hear the melody, but you? You're always searching for the secrets hidden beneath.

Belinda's laugh joined Jenna's as she shrugged into her coat, the weight of it familiar and comforting. Well, each crescendo and diminuendo is like a question-and-answer session with myself. The music is just so... hauntingly beautiful.

Spoken like a true artist, Jenna yawned, stretching her arms above her head. You should record yourself playing sometime. Bring a little culture to our breakroom.

Maybe one day, Belinda mused, her mind already reaching out to the piano keys, feeling their cool touch beneath her fingertips. She could almost hear the opening octaves whispering through her memory, beckoning her home.

Safe walk, okay? Jenna's voice cut through her reverie, a gentle reminder of the world outside her musical refuge.

Always, Belinda assured her with a nod, though the empty streets at this hour had their own cadence of shadows and silence. She pushed through the hospital's heavy doors into the brisk night air, the finality of her shift marked by the soft click of the door sealing shut behind her.

As she stepped into the embrace of the darkened city, her mind whispered notes of the Ballade, each step a rhythmic companion to the silent performance playing within her.

Belinda's fingers lingered on the cold metal of the lock, her movements deliberate as she secured the hospital's back entrance. The sharp click echoed, a solitary note in the empty corridor. She could feel the weight of the night's work heavy on her shoulders, the burden of care leaving a residue of fatigue that seemed to seep into her bones.

Her breath misted in the air as she stepped away from the building, the deserted parking lot bathed in the harsh glow of streetlights. Their hum was a dissonant chorus to her unsettled thoughts. She pulled her coat tighter around her, the fabric rasping like the hush of an audience before the overture begins.

With each step, the pavement tapped a morose beat beneath her feet. She tried to focus on the rhythmic sound, a feeble attempt to push away the unease that clung to her like a second skin. It was exhaustion; it had to be. Hospitals at night were a symphony of stress and sorrow—it played tricks on your mind.

Nothing a good sleep can't cure, she told the night, hoping to convince herself.

But then, there it was—a melody so faint, it might have been a trick of the wind. Her stride faltered, her heart keeping time with the sudden quickening of her pulse. It was the Ballade, the one she'd confided to Jenna, notes fluttering through the stillness of the night like lost spirits.

Who's there? Her voice cut through the quiet, a staccato of alarm amidst the lingering refrain. But only silence greeted her, a rest between measures.

She scanned the shadows, searching for the source, but found no pianist, no instrument, nothing but the empty stage of the city's nocturne. The song wavered, elusive, a phantom performance meant only for her ears.

Get a grip, she chided herself, wrapping her arms around her torso. It was a familiar comfort, like the embrace of a loved one or the protective walls of her home. You're letting your imagination play you.

The music continued to weave its way through the darkness, a sotto voce that beckoned her forward. With reluctant steps, she resumed her walk, the tune a siren call that she couldn't ignore, despite the screaming protests of her rational mind.

Keep walking, she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crescendo of her racing heart. Just keep walking.

Her home wasn’t far—in walking distance, in fact. She reached her apartment doorway, moving fast.

Belinda's key turned in the lock with a decisive click, a sound that always signaled the end of her day's toils. But as she swung the door open, ready for the embrace of solitude, she froze. There, sitting on her doorstep like an uninvited guest, was a music box. Moonlight glanced off its polished surface, casting prisms on the stoop where frost had begun to assert its nightly reign.

Odd, she murmured, bending to inspect the unexpected artifact. No card, no string-tied parcel with a sender's name; it sat alone, its very presence a riddle wrapped in silence.

She reached out, the chill of the night air biting at her fingers as they brushed against the smooth wood. An involuntary shiver traveled up her spine, not from the cold but from the inexplicable way it seemed meant for her. With cautious hands, she lifted it, half-expecting it to dissolve into the mist of dreams.

Who would leave this here? Belinda's whisper trailed off as she stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her foot.

In the warmer air of her living room, the music box appeared even more intricate. On the coffee table, under the glow of a single lamp, its details leapt to life. She leaned closer, examining the craftsmanship. The wood was dark mahogany, varnished to a high shine, and inlaid with patterns of ivy and blooms that seemed to twist and turn with a life of their own.

Remarkable, she breathed, tracing the inlays with a finger. But why is it here?

Her eyes caught on the cylinder within, visible through a pane of beveled glass. The pins, which should have been uniformly spaced according to any conventional design, were erratic, scattered across the surface in a pattern that defied logic.

Whoever made you didn't follow the rules, she said to the box, a faint smile playing on her lips despite the niggling anxiety. It was almost as if the creator had composed a visual symphony, notes represented by metal spikes that awaited their turn to sing.

Curiouser and curiouser, Belinda whispered, her usual pragmatism vying with burgeoning intrigue. Could it be a gift from a secret admirer? A patient grateful beyond the usual bouquet of flowers?

The disarrayed layout of the pins gnawed at her orderly nature, setting her thoughts adrift on a sea of conjectures. What tune do you hold? Something beautiful or... perhaps something else?

She hesitated, a battle waging within. The part of her honed by years of logical thinking as a nurse told her to set the music box aside, to wait until morning when light would dispel the shadows and perhaps bring clarity. Yet, another part, the part that had spent countless hours at the piano surrendering to the melodies of Chopin and Debussy, yearned to hear what secrets lay within.

Only one way to find out, she reasoned, her voice a feathery echo in the quiet room. But as her hand hovered over the box, ready to unleash its song, she couldn't shake the feeling that some melodies were meant to remain silent.

Belinda's fingers trembled slightly as she finally made her decision, the weight of the brass key, attached to the handle by a chain, cold and solid between them. The quiet of her living room seemed to lean in, as if holding its breath. She inserted the key into the music box’s side with a decisive click, the sound impossibly loud in her silent home.

Here goes nothing, she murmured to herself, her voice betraying a hint of both excitement and fear. With a deep inhale, she began to wind the key, feeling the tension build within the box's intricate mechanism.

The first note that sprung forth was sharp, unexpected, like a shard of glass shattering the stillness. Belinda flinched, but her curiosity rooted her in place. Notes followed, tumbling over one another in a discordant cascade that bore no resemblance to the harmonious compositions she adored. This melody was fractured, an auditory puzzle missing vital pieces.

God, what is this? Belinda questioned aloud, trying to find a pattern or melody within the chaos. She wrapped her arms around herself, as though the dissonance could be shut out by the simple act of turning inward.

Despite the alien nature of the tune, it gripped her with a morbid fascination. Her pulse quickened as the disjointed notes played on, weaving a tapestry of sound that was almost hypnotic in its strangeness.

Suddenly, a chill caressed the back of her neck, and she realized with a start that a window which had been securely latched was now open, the curtains billowing softly as if sighing in time with the unsettling song. Goosebumps prickled along her skin, and she crossed the room quickly to close it.

Must've forgotten to lock it, she told herself, though the seed of doubt was already sown. Her movements were jerky, out of sync with the eerie rhythm still emanating from the music box.

With the window closed once more, the last vestiges of night air expelled, Belinda leaned against the wall, her eyes drawn back to the box as though by a magnetic pull. The melody continued unabated, winding down only as the spring reached its end. Silence rushed in to fill the void, leaving Belinda with a heart thundering against her ribs and a mind reeling with questions.

Who would send me such a thing? she whispered, the question hanging unanswered in the air as the final echoes of the haunting melody dissipated into the shadows of her home.

Then, a creaking sound.

A footstep.

Belinda's breath caught in her throat as she spun around, the freshly closed window forgotten. Her eyes, wide with terror, strained against the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds. There, amidst the familiar shadows cast by her furniture, a form stood out—darker, denser, and undeniably human. It was as though the melody had conjured it from the very walls of her living room.

Who's there? Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, betraying her facade of composure. She squinted, trying to discern features, intent, anything that might give away the intruder’s identity—or purpose. But the figure remained silent, an ominous statue.

Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic cascade. This isn't happening. This can't be real. The rational part of her screamed for action—to run, to scream for help—but her body refused to obey, frozen as if the haunting tune had bewitched her very