Gone: An FBI Profiler Novel

Gone: An FBI Profiler Novel

Lisa Gardner

Language: English

Pages: 480

ISBN: 0553588079

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Gone: An FBI Profiler Novel

Lisa Gardner

Language: English

Pages: 480

ISBN: 0553588079

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


From the bestselling author of Alone and The Killing Hour comes a thriller that goes from heartbreaking to heartstopping in the blink of an eye.…

When someone you love vanishes without a trace, how far would you go to get them back?

For ex-FBI profiler Pierce Quincy, it’s the beginning of his worst nightmare: a car abandoned on a desolate stretch of Oregon highway, engine running, purse on the driver’s seat. And his estranged wife, Rainie Conner, gone, leaving no clue to her fate.

Did one of the ghosts from Rainie’s troubled past finally catch up with her? Or could her disappearance be the result of one of the cases they’d been working– a particularly vicious double homicide or the possible abuse of a deeply disturbed child Rainie took too close to heart?  Together with his daughter, FBI agent Kimberly Quincy, Pierce is battling the local authorities, racing against time, and frantically searching for answers to all the questions he’s been afraid to ask.

One man knows what happened that night. Adopting the alias of a killer caught eighty years before, he has already contacted the press. His terms are clear: he wants money, he wants power, he wants celebrity. And if he doesn’t get what he wants, Rainie will be gone for good.

Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, it’s still not enough.

As the clock winds down on a terrifying deadline, Pierce plunges headlong into the most desperate hunt of his life, into the shattering search for a killer, a lethal truth, and for the love of his life, who may forever be…gone.

From the Hardcover edition.

They Hanged My Saintly Billy

A Little Yuletide Murder (Murder She Wrote, Book 11)

The New Predator: Women Who Kill - Profiles Of Female Serial Killers

A Red Herring Without Mustard (Flavia de Luce Mysteries, Book 3)

Little Demon in the City of Light: A True Story of Murder and Mesmerism in Belle Epoque Paris

The Baby Farmers: A Chilling Tale of Missing Babies, Shameful Secrets and Murder in 19th Century Australia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

wouldn’t have to know so many statistics, such as that the majority of ransom cases ending with the kidnapped victim being discovered dead. Kincaid made the turn. In front of them, the Tillamook Air Museum finally loomed into view. Under normal conditions, it would be hard to miss the air museum. Housed in an old World War II blimp hangar, it had the distinction of being the largest wooden structure in the entire world. It soared over fifteen stories high and engulfed a whopping seven acres.

hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone, not even his daughter, that his second marriage was failing. Kimberly and Mac exchanged a look. Quincy saw it, but still couldn’t bring himself to speak. “Was she really at a bar?” Kimberly finally asked, voice gentle. “I don’t know. We have yet to retrace her last steps.” “Dad, you should know her last steps.” “You assume I was still living at the house.” “Oh, Dad.” Kimberly reached across the table, squeezed his hand. She and Mac exchanged another look,

diligent baby-sitter he’d promised to be. Kimberly had been sent out on an errand at Quincy’s personal request; his daughter had departed only after wringing a blood oath from Mac that he wouldn’t let Quincy out of his sight. When Mac glanced over for the third time, Quincy couldn’t resist raising a hand in acknowledgment. Haven’t managed to croak yet. Please, carry on. So this, he thought, was how it was going to feel one day when his workaholic daughter stuck him in an old folks’ home. He

game!” “It’s not a game, Dougie. Someone kidnapped me. The same person also kidnapped you.” “You’re a liar,” Dougie said angrily. “Lie, lie, lie. I’m going to tell Miss Boyd! You’re nothing but a drunk. I want to go home!” “Yeah, Dougie. Me, too.” With consciousness came the chill. Rainie reached up instinctively to rub her arms, only to be thwarted again by her bound hands. She wished she could see. She wished she could feel her fingers. It occurred to her that Dougie’s voice sounded normal,

this investigation. Thus, I feel I must remove myself as lead reporter for the piece and, instead, fully disclose everything I know, in the hopes that it might lead to the discovery of Lorraine Conner and seven-year-old Douglas Jones.” “What the hell is he talking about?” Kincaid asked Lieutenant Mosley. “Who knows,” the PIO said flatly. “But we are about to get screwed.” “It all began yesterday morning,” Danicic continued expansively, waving his arms now, playing to his audience, “when the

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