Four women—friends, family, rivals—turn to online dating for companionship, only to find themselves in the crosshairs of a tech-savvy killer using an app to target his victims in this harrowing thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of See Jane Run and The Bad Daughter .  Online dating is risky—will that message be a sweet greeting or an unsolicited lewd photo? Will he be as handsome in real life as he is in his photos, or were they taken ten years and twenty pounds ago? And when he asks you to go home with him, how do you know it’s safe? The man calling himself “Mr. Right Now” in his profile knows that his perfect hair, winning smile, and charming banter put women at ease, silencing any doubts they might have about going back to his apartment. There, he has a special evening all planned out: steaks, wine, candlelight . . . and, by the end of the night, pain and a slow, agonizing death. Driven to desperation—by divorce, boredom, infidelity, a beloved husband’s death—a young woman named Paige, her cousin and rival Heather, her best friend, Chloe, and her mother, Joan, all decide to try their hand at online dating. They each download an app, hoping to right-swipe their way to love and happiness. But one of them unwittingly makes a date with the killer, starting the clock on a race to save her life. New York Times bestselling author Joy Fielding has written a complex, electrifying thriller about friendship, jealousy, and passion—a deadly combination. Praise for the thrillers of Joy Fielding The Bad Daughter “So expert is [Joy] Fielding at seeding clues that readers will never see the final plot twist coming. The acutely portrayed family dynamics lend pathos and a certain schadenfreudian frisson to the proceedings. . . . An author who knows her way around suburban angst.” —Kirkus Reviews “Fielding, a sure hand at psychological suspense, amps up tension nicely here as the narrative reaches a high-energy conclusion.” — Booklist “Keeps the reader turning the pages until the bombshell final shocker.” — Publishers Weekly She’s Not There “A captivating read from beginning to end . . . Fielding has delivered a home run that you will not be able to put down.” —The Free Lance–Star Someone Is Watching “A gripping, fast-paced psychological thriller . . . nothing short of arresting.” — Booklist (starred review) Joy Fielding is the New York Times bestselling author of The Bad Daughter, She’s Not There, Someone Is Watching, Charley’s Web , Heartstopper , Mad River Road , See Jane Run , and other acclaimed novels. She divides her time between Toronto and Palm Beach, Florida. Chapter One “So, tell me about yourself,” he says. He smiles what he hopes is a sweet smile—neither too big nor too small, one that hints at a wry, maybe even offbeat sense of humor that he thinks would appeal to her. He wants to charm her. He wants her to like him. The young woman sitting across from him at the immaculately set table for two hesitates. When she speaks, her voice is soft, tremulous. “What do you want to know?” She is beautiful: late twenties, porcelain skin, deep blue eyes, long brown hair, just the right amount of visible cleavage. Exactly as advertised, which isn’t always the case. Usually the photos they post are a few years old, the women themselves older still. “Well, for starters, why a dating app? I mean, you’re gorgeous. I can’t imagine you’d have any trouble meeting guys, especially in a city like Boston.” She hesitates again. She’s shy, thoughtful as opposed to self-absorbed. Something else he likes. “I just thought it would be fun,” she admits. “All my friends are on them. And I’ve kind of been out of the dating scene for a while . . .” “You had a boyfriend?” She nods. “We broke up about four months ago.” “You broke up with him?” “Actually, no. He broke up with me.” He laughs. “I find that hard to believe.” “He said he wasn’t ready to be tied down,” she offers without prompting. Her eyes fill with tears. Several escape without warning, clinging to her bottom lashes. Instinctively he reaches across the table to wipe them away, careful not to disturb her mascara. “You miss him,” he says. “No,” she says quickly. “Not really. It’s just hard sometimes. It’s more being part of a couple I miss, our friends . . .” “Were you together long?” “A little over a year. What about you?” He smiles. She’s trying, he thinks. Even though he can see her heart isn’t really in it. Still, some women never even think to ask. “Me? No. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a serious relationship. But we were talking about you.” She looks toward her plate. She hasn’t touched her food, and he spent hours preparing it, letting the expensive steaks marinate all afternoon, wrapping the large Idaho potatoes in tinfoil for baking, arranging the watermelon and feta cheese salad just so on the delicate floral china, wanting to impress her. Maybe she’s a vegetarian, he thinks, although there w