Gone Silent (A Becca Thorn FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 3)

By Rylie Dark

When victims of a new serial killer are discovered bearing a cryptic tattoo, FBI Agent Becca Thorn must delve into the dark world of ancient religious symbols to catch a ruthless killer. With the body count rising, can Becca decipher the cryptic messages before she becomes the next sacrificial offering?

“A brilliant book. I couldn’t put it down and I never guessed who the murderer was!”
—Reader review for Only Murder
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GONE SILENT is book #3 in a new series by #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed mystery and suspense author Rylie Dark, whose books have received over 2,000 five-star reviews and ratings. The series begins with GONE COLD (book #1).

A page-turning and harrowing psychological thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured female protagonist, Becca Thorn is a riveting mystery series, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Karin Slaughter, Teresa Driscoll, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are also available.

“I loved this thriller, read it in one sitting. Lots of twists and turns and I didn’t guess the
culprit at all… Already pre-ordered the second!”
—Reader review for Only Murder
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This book takes off with a bang… An excellent read, and I'm looking forward to the next book!”
—Reader review for SEE HER RUN
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“Fantastic book! It was hard to put down. I can’t wait to see what happens next!”
—Reader review for SEE HER RUN
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“The twists and turns kept coming. Can't wait to read the next book!”
—Reader review for SEE HER RUN
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“A must-read if you enjoy action-packed stories with good plots!”
—Reader review for SEE HER RUN
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I really like this author and this series starts with a bang. It will keep you turning the pages till the end of the book and wanting more.”
—Reader review for SEE HER RUN
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I can't say enough about this author! How about ‘out of this world’! This author is going to go far!”
—Reader review for ONLY MURDER
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I really enjoyed this book… The characters were alive, and the twists and turns were great. It will keep you reading till the end and leave you wanting more.”
—Reader review for NO WAY OUT
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This is an author that I highly recommend. Her books will have you begging for more.”
—Reader review for NO WAY OUT
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Rylie Dark
• Release date: Apr 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9781094396385

Book preview

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G O N E

S I L E N T

(A Becca Thorn FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 3)

R y l i e   D a r k

Rylie Dark

Bestselling author Rylie Dark is author of the SADIE PRICE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books; of the CARLY SEE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books; of the MIA NORTH FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); of the MORGAN STARK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books; of the HAILEY ROCK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); of the TARA STRONG MYSTERY series, comprising six books; of the ALEX QUINN FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books; of the MAEVE SHARP FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER, comprising five books (and counting); of the KELLY CRUZ MYSTERY series, comprising five books (and counting); of the JESSIE REACH MYSTERY series, comprising five books (and counting); and of the BECCA THORN MYSTERY series, comprising five books (and counting).

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

Copyright © 2024 by Rylie Dark. 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 RYLIE DARK

BECCA THORN MYSTERY

GONE COLD (Book #1)

GONE DARK (Book #2)

GONE SILENT (Book #3)

GONE HOLLOW (Book #4)

GONE FOREVER (Book #5)

JESSIE REACH MYSTERY

HIS OTHER SIDE (Book #1)

HIS OTHER SELF (Book #2)

HIS OTHER SECRET (Book #3)

HIS OTHER WISH (Book #4)

HIS OTHER PLAN (Book #5)

KELLY CRUZ MYSTERY

WHERE YOU GO (Book #1)

WHERE YOU HIDE (Book #2)

WHERE YOU SLEEP (Book #3)

WHERE YOU RUN (Book #4)

WHERE YOU FEAR (Book #5)

MAEVE SHARP FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

WITH MALICE (Book #1)

WITH ENVY (Book #2)

WITH VENGEANCE (Book #3)

WITH RAGE (Book #4)

WITH YOU (Book #5)

ALEX QUINN SUSPENSE THRILLER

FIRST, MURDER (Book #1)

SECOND, DEATH (Book #2)

THIRD, ENVY (Book #3)

FOURTH, LUST (Book #4)

FIFTH, WRATH (Book #5)

TARA STRONG MYSTERY

GIRL WITHOUT A CHANCE (Book #1)

GIRL WITHOUT A HOME (Book #2)

GIRL WITHOUT A TRACE (Book #3)

GIRL WITHOUT A NAME (Book #4)

GIRL WITHOUT A PRAYER (Book #5)

GIRL WITHOUT A PAST (Book #6)

HAILEY ROCK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

BEHIND YOU (Book #1)

BESIDE YOU (Book #2)

AFTER YOU (Book #3)

WATCHING YOU (Book #4)

JUDGING YOU (Book #5)

FOLLOWING YOU (Book #6)

SADIE PRICE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

ONLY MURDER (Book #1)

ONLY RAGE (Book #2)

ONLY HIS (Book #3)

ONLY ONCE (Book #4)

ONLY SPITE (Book #5)

ONLY MADNESS (Book #6)

MIA NORTH FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SEE HER RUN (Book #1)

SEE HER HIDE (Book #2)

SEE HER SCREAM (Book #3)

SEE HER VANISH (Book #4)

SEE HER GONE (Book #5)

SEE HER DEAD (Book #6)

CARLY SEE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NO WAY OUT (Book #1)

NO WAY BACK (Book #2)

NO WAY HOME (Book #3)

NO WAY LEFT (Book #4)

NO WAY UP (Book #5)

NO WAY TO DIE (Book #6)

MORGAN STARK FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

TOO LATE (Book #1)

TOO CLOSE (Book #2)

TOO FAR GONE (Book #3)

TOO LOST (Book #4)

TOO BROKEN (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

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Jane's heartbeat thrummed in her ears, a staccato rhythm that seemed to echo off the graffiti-stained walls of the deserted alley. The night air was balmy, a stark contrast to the chill of fear that had settled deep within her bones. She wasn’t alone. She could feel it.

With every hurried step, her sneakers squeaked against the cracked concrete, and she could not shake the visceral sense that someone's gaze was boring into her back. Salt Lake City's vibrant daytime streets had surrendered to the night, and Jane cursed her decision to linger at work so late, but she’d gotten caught up with her coworker, and now she was walking home alone at night.

Or was she alone?

Just moments ago, she’d sworn she’d saw someone following her.

Her mind replayed the fleeting glimpse of a figure that had turned her spine to ice just moments before. A man? It had to be — the broad shoulders and height were telltale signs. But each time she cast a wary glance over her shoulder, the alley presented her with nothing but the void.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe her imagination.

Yet, the doubt did little to steady her nerves.

She could no longer ignore the prickling sensation that crept like tendrils up her neck, and without breaking stride, Jane's hand plunged into her jacket pocket. Her fingers found the familiar shape of the small canister she had purchased after reading too many headlines of women who walked through the night and never made it home. Its presence was a comfort, a promise of defense.

Come on, Jane, she whispered to herself, as if scolding her own foolishness for thinking she would need it on a warm evening like this. Yet here she was, clutching the pepper spray with a grip that blanched her knuckles. Whoever might be lurking in the shadows, moving with silent intent, they would meet the sting of her resolve before they could lay a finger on her.

She had always been quick to stand her ground, and tonight would be no exception.

Without warning, her foot caught on something solid—an upturned piece of pavement—and the world tilted off-kilter. Jane's body obeyed gravity all too readily, plummeting towards the concrete with a jarring impact that forced the air from her lungs. Pain lanced through her palms where they struck the ground, scrapes flowering warm and wet upon her skin.

As she fell, the hem of her sleeve rode up, revealing her tattoo. In the meek light of a distant lamppost, the tattoo—a peculiar ancient symbol that had always felt more like a birthright than a choice—glinted faintly. It was a constant in her life, a marker that had guided her decisions, a silent whisperer of identity when she had struggled to find her own voice.

Get up, get up, she chastised herself, scrambling to rise. Her joints protested, and a kaleidoscope of pain bloomed across her frame, but fear proved a potent motivator. Dust clung to her, an unwanted shroud, as she brushed herself off with jerky movements. Her eyes darted back to the stretch of alley she had traversed; the darkness seemed to congeal, a living thing with breath held tight, waiting.

The adrenaline that surged through her veins now did little to combat the chill that settled in the marrow of her bones. She couldn't shake the sensation that eyes were upon her, watching her struggle, delighting in the momentary vulnerability that her fall had offered like a sacrifice. Her fingers curled around the pepper spray once again.

That's when she saw it—a shift in the shadows, subtle but undeniable.

A man's figure emerged from the darkness like an apparition, his edges softened by the night. Jane's skin prickled with goosebumps, her feet rooted to the spot as if the grimy pavement had turned to quicksand beneath her. The scant light from the lamppost caught the stranger's features. His eyes, cold and detached, fixed on hers, and for a moment, time seemed to fold in on itself, leaving Jane trapped in the gaze of a predator.

Her mind screamed at her to flee, to scream, to do anything but stand there, ensnared by those eyes that promised nothing but malice. But it was as though she were watching herself from afar, disconnected from the commands her brain sent to her limbs.

Then, the man brought his hand into the dim circle of light, and Jane's eyes locked onto the glint of metal.

A scalpel was clutched between his fingers.

With a jolt of clarity, she fumbled for the pepper spray, her fingers wrapping around the familiar shape with a surge of desperate hope. She aimed and pressed the button, anticipating the hiss of the aerosol, the cloud that would grant her a chance to escape.

But nothing happened.

She shook the canister, heart pounding against her ribs, praying for it to yield its protective mist. Again, she pressed, but the device remained silent, impotent.

The man advanced, his pace unhurried, scalpel gleaming ominously as if it were an extension of his will. Panic clawed its way up Jane’s throat, and finally, her voice broke free. Her scream tore through the alley, a raw sound that carried the full weight of her terror.

It bounced off the walls, a futile call for help as the man descended upon her.

CHAPTER ONE

FBI agent Becca Thorn turned her car into the town of Evershade, met with the oppressive silence of a town that seemed to be holding its breath. The morning sky above stretched, a pale canvas void of clouds, as if mirroring the barrenness below. She parked her nondescript government sedan beside the sidewalk, the engine's soft purr dying into the quiet like the final note of a lullaby. As she stepped out, her boots crunched on gravel and dust, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.

She scanned the surroundings with practiced eyes. Storefronts lined the street, their windows darkened by time and neglect, while signs that once beckoned with promises of commerce now faded into obscurity. There were people, just a handful, who moved with the kind of purpose that spoke of routine rather than life. They cast sidelong glances at her—their looks felt like cold drafts slipping under a door, unwelcoming and laden with suspicion.

Feeling the weight of those unfriendly eyes, Becca straightened her shoulders, instinctively brushing a loose strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair behind an ear. It was a habit borne from a need for order amidst chaos, a physical manifestation of her internal vigilance. Her eyes took in every detail: the slight narrowing of gazes, the quick steps away, the hushed whispers that fell silent as she passed.

Evershade was not simply quiet—it was almost like it was clinging to the last vestiges of some forgotten prosperity. The sun hung high in the clear sky, casting a harsh light over the scene that sharpened edges and deepened shadows.

As Becca started down the sidewalk, she became aware of a figure watching her. Through the dusty window of a gift shop, a man stood motionless, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. Becca approached. Unnerved as she was, she was a trained FBI agent and had been raised in a cult—she wasn’t one to shy away from the odd and obscure. Becca was no longer the child entangled in the dogma of The First Divine; she was an agent of the law, a survivor determined to face the ghosts of her past and protect others from similar fates. It was a dance she knew well—approach with caution, but project confidence.

The gift shop's window displayed an array of items meant to tempt tourists, but the lack of foot traffic suggested they often went unpurchased. Among the trinkets and postcards, the man's gaze remained unyielding. He was part of this place, Becca realized, and understanding him might be key to understanding Evershade.

With a steadying breath, she went inside. The door gave a gentle chime as Becca stepped into the gift shop. The sound seemed too cheerful for the somber atmosphere that immediately enveloped her. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and she took in the rows of shelves lined with trinkets that whispered of simpler times. Among the array of handcrafted wooden toys and scented candles, what caught her attention were the puritan bonnets—neatly arranged, lace-trimmed.

The sight of the bonnets ignited a flicker of understanding within her; Evershade was likely bound by deep religious roots. It made sense now why James Thorn, her adoptive father, had sent her here. The First Divine was rumored to have cast its shadow over this town. They were known to target communities that already had religious ties.

A shiver tiptoed down her spine at the thought of the cult reemerging, entangling new lives in its web as it had hers.

Somewhere amidst the whispers of this quiet community might be Stella. The girl with eyes like autumn leaves, who Becca was sure was actually her biological sister. Stella had been left behind during the FBI raid that pulled Becca from The First Divine’s clutches, but Becca had always longed to find her. That was what had brought her here—she would follow any thread that might bring her closer to The First Divine, no matter how small.

Can I help you? The man's voice was brusque, tinged with a wariness that matched the glares Becca received upon entering Evershade.

She turned to face him, his expression unyielding and cold. Becca Thorn, she introduced herself, holding onto her name like a shield. There was power in names, something Father Monroe always preached, and she wondered if the man before her held similar beliefs. I was just admiring your store. You have quite the collection of local crafts.

Courtesy of the townsfolk. His words were clipped, each one measured, as if giving away too much could somehow disrupt the careful balance of this insular community. He didn’t ask for her reason for being there, which suited Becca just fine. She wasn’t ready to play that hand – not yet.

Must keep you busy, then? she ventured, eyes still scanning the room under the pretense of interest in the merchandise.

Busy enough, he replied, skepticism etched into the lines of his face. His eyes, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his surroundings, followed her every move. They spoke of a life rooted in vigilance—the kind that came from living on the fringes, where the world outside was seen as a threat rather than an opportunity.

Is it usually this quiet around here? Becca asked, her tone casual but probing beneath the surface.

Quiet suits us just fine, he said, his gaze never wavering from her.

Becca's gaze swept over the shelves lined with quaint trinkets and homemade preserves that seemed out of time, like relics from a bygone era. The silence of the shop weighed heavily in the air, punctuated only by the soft creaks of floorboards under her cautious steps. She scrutinized every item: porcelain dolls with glassy eyes, hand-carved wooden crosses, sepia-toned photographs of stern-faced ancestors. But there was nothing here, no sign nor symbol that whispered of The First Divine.

It frustrated her, this absence of clues. She found nothing but the mundane echoes of a community steeped in its own history. Yet, somewhere amidst the dust motes dancing in the stale air, Becca felt the presence of something untold, perhaps deliberately hidden. She could almost hear the faint echo of her adoptive father's voice, reminding her that these people were