⚠️ Mature Audience Only
This story contains themes suitable for adults. Please proceed only if you are 18+.
By J.E. Nickerson
A Samantha Leary Psychological Thriller
The rain cut through the night like shards of glass, soaking the street, bouncing off the asphalt like broken mirrors. Samantha pressed herself against the hood of her car, letting the metal shield her hair from the cold downpour. He emerged from the shadows, slow, deliberate, a predator cloaked in civility.
“You’ve been asking questions,” he said, voice smooth but edged with something sharper than the rain. “Prying where you shouldn’t.”
“That’s what I do,” she replied evenly. “Your wife didn’t vanish. People don’t just disappear.”
A muscle twitched along his jaw. He stepped closer, close enough that the scent of cologne—expensive, deliberate—hit her. “Stop,” he said, voice low, tight with warning. “Keep looking, and you will regret it. I promise you that.”
“Regret?” she murmured, letting her voice ride the rain. “You think I’m afraid of promises. I investigate silence. And you’ve been silent far too long.”
His eyes flickered—fear, calculation, recognition. “You don’t know what you’re stirring.”
“I know exactly what I’m stirring,” she said. “You’re terrified I’ll find what you buried.”
He stepped back. His panic—or was it understanding?—was brief. “Walk away, Ms. Leary.” His tone thin, controlled.
Her hand brushed the car door. “If I planned on walking away, I wouldn’t be standing out here in the rain with you. Your wife disappeared. But she hasn’t been erased.”
The man stepped back into the shadows and the curtain of rain, his face unreadable. Samantha could already tell he was desperate to hide the secrets she hadn’t found yet. She would uncover them—and with Greg, they would dig through every scrap of his life if they had to.
***
The precinct smelled of stale coffee and fluorescent light. Greg had left early, his chair empty, and Samantha was wrapping up, reviewing her notes for her Crime Time post. She sat alone at the metal table, police files spread in a careful grid: interviews, alibis, timelines, photographs with yellow tape. Cold, procedural.
Her eyes lingered on the husband’s file, tracing the gaps, the little inconsistencies, the small details others overlooked. And then she saw it: a parking receipt, timestamped the night his wife disappeared. Nothing flagged, nothing deemed unusual—but the pattern screamed to her trained eye.
A chill slid down her spine. Whoever thought they had buried the truth hadn’t counted on someone noticing the quiet pulse of what they’d tried to erase. The room was empty. The fluorescent hum felt alive, whispering warnings she didn’t need.
Samantha leaned closer, finger tracing the numbers, memorizing them. She felt the storm outside echo in her chest: a tension unresolved, a danger just beyond the walls. Somewhere out there, he was pretending control. Somewhere out there, he thought he had hidden it all.
But she had found the first crack in the carefully curated image.
And she would follow it.
Samantha Leary Psychological Thrillers
Step into Samantha Leary’s world—where hidden secrets, control, and obsession dominate the lives of victims. Can she uncover the truth before it’s too late? Explore the series and experience the suspense for yourself.
Samantha Leary Psychological Thrillers
Available on Amazon
For Mature Audiences Only
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