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When renowned surgeon Dr. Samuel Price is found murdered in his own home—his body left with surgically precise stab wounds and a scalpel placed beside him—Detective Alex Mercer knows this isn’t just another homicide. It’s a message. As Mercer digs deeper, he uncovers chilling similarities to an unsolved murder from a decade ago—a case that has haunted him for years. With a growing list of suspects, including Price’s estranged son, a vengeful former patient, and a mysterious figure from his past, Mercer must navigate a web of deception, long-buried secrets, and deadly betrayals. But when he receives an anonymous letter repeating the killer’s haunting words—“Some wounds never heal”—Mercer realizes the truth is far more disturbing than he imagined. This isn’t just a murder investigation. It’s a game. And the killer is just getting started. For fans of Michael Connelly, Karin Slaughter, and Gillian Flynn, Knifed is a gripping crime thriller packed with suspense, shocking twists, and psychological depth that will keep you hooked until the very last page.
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Seitenzahl: 71
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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CLAIRE SMITH
KNIEFED
A Detective Mercer Thriller
First published by GINNIE WRITES PUBLICATIONS 2025
Copyright © 2025 by CLAIRE SMITH
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
CLAIRE SMITH asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
To reach the author on [email protected]
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com
Contents
Prologue
I. PART ONE
Chapter 1
A Clean Cut
Chapter 2
A Life in Two Halves
Chapter 3
A Scalpel and a Shadow
II. PART TWO
Chapter 4
A Case That Won’t Die
Chapter 5
False Alibis and Dead Ends
Interrogation Room 2B
Rebecca Lane
Back at the Station
Chapter 6
The Missing Link
III. PART THREE
Chapter 7
The Pattern Revealed
Chapter 8
The Watcher in the Dark
Chapter 9
The Unraveling Truth
IV. PART FOUR
Chapter 10
The Hunter Becomes the Hunted
Chapter 11
A Choice in the Dark
Chapter 12
The Knife Never Rests
About the Author
Also by CLAIRE SMITH
Prologue
chapter-seperatorDr. Samuel Price had always prided himself on steady hands. Whether in the sterile, fluorescent-lit confines of an operating room or in the polished halls of his luxurious suburban home, control was his greatest strength. But tonight, as warm blood seeped between his fingers, pooling onto the gleaming white marble floor, control had abandoned him.
He had never imagined his life would end like this.
The pain was sharp, precise. A knife, not a scalpel. He knew the difference well. A scalpel cut clean, thin, surgical. This blade was crude, driven with purpose, over and over. He tried to move, but his body refused. His lungs filled with something thick, wet. Breathing was impossible. His mind swam in a haze of agony and disbelief.
His eyes darted to the shadow above him, looming, watching. He tried to speak, to ask why, but his voice failed him. It didn’t matter. The answer was already written in the killer’s silence.
This wasn’t a robbery. This wasn’t random. This was an execution.
And the pattern of the wounds—they meant something.
As the last of his strength drained away, Samuel Price finally understood.
This wasn’t the first time.
And it wouldn’t be the last.
1:12 A.M. – CRIME SCENE
Detective Alex Mercer had seen death before. He had studied its patterns, traced its causes, followed its aftermath through crime scenes soaked in grief and violence. But something about this one unsettled him.
He stood in the doorway of the victim’s sleek, modern kitchen, the scent of blood heavy in the air. The undercabinet lighting cast an eerie glow over the crime scene, illuminating the chaos that had unfolded here just hours ago.
Dr. Samuel Price lay sprawled on his back in a widening pool of crimson, his white dress shirt now soaked through, his face frozen in an expression of shock and terror.
Mercer’s eyes moved to the wounds.
The stab pattern wasn’t random. Not an uncontrolled frenzy. Each wound was deliberate, placed with knowledge. A methodical killer. Someone who understood anatomy.
Then there was the scalpel—placed just beside the victim’s open hand, untouched by blood. A message, but what kind?
His partner, Detective Ryan Carter, let out a low whistle as he crouched beside the body.
“This one’s different,” Carter muttered. “Feels personal.”
Mercer nodded, his thoughts racing. He had seen something like this before.
He turned to the forensic tech dusting for prints near the counter. “Do we have any signs of forced entry?”
“None,” she replied. “Door was locked. No broken windows.”
“That means the victim let them in,” Carter said. “Or they had a key.”
Mercer’s mind drifted back ten years ago. Another case. Another body, stabbed with precision. Another scalpel left behind.
The Catherine Shaw case.
That case had never been solved.
And now, it was back.
FLASHBACK: TEN YEARS EARLIER
It was raining the night Mercer first saw her. Catherine Shaw. Twenty-six years old. A journalist, ambitious, fearless, the kind of woman who wouldn’t back down from a story, even if it put her in danger.
She had been found in an abandoned warehouse on the east side of the city, her body left in much the same way as Samuel Price’s. Multiple stab wounds. Precise. Surgical. A scalpel lying neatly beside her lifeless hand.
Her murder had haunted Mercer for years, an unsolved puzzle buried beneath the weight of other cases. He had chased down leads, questioned suspects, but the trail had gone cold.
Until now.
Now, standing over Dr. Price’s body, he could feel it—something connected these two murders. Something deliberate.
BACK TO THE PRESENT
“Mercer.” Carter’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Mercer turned to see his partner holding up an evidence bag. Inside, a folded piece of paper, pulled from the victim’s pocket.
“You’re gonna want to see this.”
Mercer took the bag, his pulse quickening as he read the words scrawled across the note.
“Some wounds never heal.”
His blood ran cold.
This was just the beginning.
And whoever had done this…
They weren’t finished.
I
Part One
The Murder
Chapter 1
chapter-seperatorA Clean Cut
1:08 A.M. – Westbridge Suburbs
Detective Alex Mercer pulled his coat tighter against the biting night air as he stepped under the yellow crime scene tape. The suburban street was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of police radios and the murmur of forensic technicians combing through the evidence. The house—modern, pristine, lifeless—stood stark against the dark sky.
Detective Alex Mercer had seen his share of brutal crime scenes, but there was something about this one that made his stomach turn. Maybe it was the clinical precision of the stab wounds. Maybe it was the scalpel placed beside the body, almost like an afterthought. Or maybe it was the cold silence of the house, the kind that came after violence so sudden, so absolute, that the walls themselves seemed to hold their breath.
Dr. Samuel Price lay in a pool of his own blood in the middle of his kitchen. His once-crisp white dress shirt was soaked through, his mouth frozen mid-gasp, his fingers curled inward as if in his last moments he had tried to hold onto something—anything.
Mercer crouched beside the body, his keen eyes scanning the methodical nature of the attack. There were no signs of struggle—no defensive wounds, no overturned furniture. The wounds were deliberate, almost surgical in their placement. And then there was the scalpel. Left inches from Price’s outstretched fingers, its blade gleamed under the fluorescent light.
“That doesn’t belong in a kitchen,” Mercer muttered, nodding toward the scalpel.
“No, it doesn’t,” replied Officer Dana Liu, his long-time partner, standing just behind him. “But this does.” She pointed toward the kitchen island, where a chef’s knife lay conspicuously, its handle wiped clean. A planted weapon. An attempt at misdirection.
But what unsettled Mercer the most was the deliberation of the attack.
A total of eleven stab wounds. No hesitation marks, no signs of struggle. Whoever had done this had known exactly what they were doing.
Mercer crouched beside the body, scanning the scene with an investigator’s eye.
“Jesus,” his partner, Detective Ryan Carter, muttered behind him. “This wasn’t just a murder. This was a message.”
Mercer didn’t respond. His focus shifted to the surgical scalpel lying next to the victim’s outstretched hand.
Liu noticed his hesitation. “You thinking what I think you are?”
Mercer nodded grimly. “Catherine Shaw. Ten years ago. Same clean cuts, same surgical precision, same scalpel left behind.”
Liu’s expression hardened. “That case went cold. No leads, no suspects. And now it’s happening again?”
Mercer stood, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Looks like it. And this time, I’m not letting it slip away.”
