Virtually Gone

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the runtime at first—how much depth can you pack into 3 hours? Turns out, *a lot*, if you’re Jacquie Biggar. *Virtually Gone* doesn’t waste a second, and that’s its greatest strength. Julie Crenshaw isn’t some ex-cop with a dark past; she’s a *reporter*, and Biggar leans hard into the unique vulnerabilities of that role. The way Julie’s investigation forces her to confront her own biases (and blind spots) about victims and perpetrators adds layers you don’t often get in crime fiction. I also loved how the digital age factors in—not just as a plot device, but as a character itself. The predator’s use of tech to stalk and manipulate feels sickeningly current, like something ripped from today’s true-crime podcasts. Now, the narration: Daniel F. Purcell is *excellent*, but his performance isn’t without quirks. His Julie is compelling—smart, weary, but with a simmering rage—but his female voices occasionally veer into overly breathy territory, which pulled me out of the moment once or twice. That said, his handling of the antagonist’s sections is *chilling*. He doesn’t go for cartoonish villainy; instead, he delivers the lines with a calm, almost bored detachment that makes the threat feel more real. My only real critique is the ending, which wraps up a touch too neatly for a story that otherwise thrives on moral ambiguity. Still, the ride there is so tense, so *immediate*, that I’d forgive a lot worse. If you’re a fan of audiobooks that respect your time but still leave you checking the locks, this is a no-brainer.