Читать книгу Killer Insight - Virginia Vaughan - Страница 13

FBI agent Lucy Sanderson stopped running, rested her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. She’d pushed herself on this run, harder than she had in weeks, and her body was pushing back. She glanced around. She’d run farther than she’d planned, and not being familiar with this town, she was uncertain where she was.

She shouldn’t have come so far, or she should have turned back when the streetlights stopped being consistently spaced, but she’d been anxious to get her run in. She needed to get back in shape after letting her regimen lapse for months after her fiancé Danny’s death last year, and her legs ached after the flight down from Washington, DC, then the hour-long drive to the small Texas town of Whitten.

Lucy glanced at her watch. It was after 7:00 p.m., and she really should get back to the bed-and-breakfast where she was staying. Her meeting with Bryce Tippitt, an old marine friend of Danny’s who’d reached out to her for help, was in less than an hour. His brother was accused of killing four women in this sleepy Texas town, but Bryce insisted his brother was innocent and being railroaded by the local police department. She’d agreed to come, anxious to put her FBI-trained profiling skills back to work after the paralyzing self-doubt that had set in after Danny’s death and she’d learned the truth about her fiancé and the lies he’d been telling her.

She shoved her earbuds back in and music filled her ears, drowning out the sounds of nature as she started her run back toward town. It was time to stop sitting on the sidelines and pick up her stalled career where Danny’s death had left it. Her supervisor had encouraged her to come to Whitten, anxious to get her back into profiling, insisting she was good at what she did. Not good enough, however, to see what had been right in front of her face.

Headlights rolled over her, and she glanced over a shoulder to see a car approaching. Lucy moved to the side of the road for it to pass, even though the roadway was clear and there was no oncoming traffic. Instead of speeding around her, the car slowed, then pulled to the side. She stopped and turned toward it, straining to see past the blinding headlights.

Suddenly a man leaped from the car. He was on top of her before she realized what was happening. He pinned her to the ground, and all of Lucy’s instincts kicked in. She fought back, screaming and flailing and calling on every defensive move she’d learned at the academy. She managed to dig her nails into his skin, but, in the end, she was no match for his weight and strength. He pinned her with one arm and pulled a syringe from his pocket.

If he managed to inject her with it, she was done for. She wiggled her arm free and knocked the syringe from his grip. Instead of retrieving it, he punched her several times. Her eyes watered from the pain as the world spun in and out of focus.

She was still dazed as he bound her hands with a zip tie then ripped her phone from the holder on her arm and jerked out her earbuds, throwing the items into the trees. He lifted her, tossing her across his shoulder like a sack of flour. He was quick and efficient, and her limbs felt like rocks as all the fight seemed to drain from her. She couldn’t even cry out for help. Not that there was anyone around to help her. She was in an isolated area. Rookie mistake.

He shoved her into the trunk of his car and slammed the lid, plunging her completely into darkness. Her mind was still working, racing with the thought that she needed to run, to get away, but her body refused to work, still in shock from such a brutal attack.

She was going to die tonight at the hands of the very killer she’d been sent here to stop. The irony of it rushed through her as the brake lights illuminated the trunk in their bright red color and the car took off.

But she wasn’t ready to give up.

Lucy fought to stay awake when blissful unconsciousness pulled at her. She couldn’t succumb to it. If she did, she was dead. She fumbled, her hands searching for some way to free herself from the vehicle. Finally she found the trunk lever. She pushed it and the lid unlatched, bobbing ever so slightly up and down as the car moved along the asphalt.

She could jump free, but not until the car slowed enough. If he caught her and she was injured escaping, she would be in real trouble. But if she waited too long, he might discover the trunk lid unlatched, and her one opportunity for escape would be gone.

The car slowed then turned. Lucy raised up on her elbows to peek out. They were turning onto a dirt road. That wasn’t a good sign. She needed to go now while there might still be traffic in the area so she could flag down someone to help her. The deeper into the woods they drove, the less likely she was to find her way out.

She had to go now.

Lucy shoved open the trunk and jumped out, landing hard on her right ankle. Intense pain shot through her leg, but she didn’t have time to stop and examine her foot. She could still put weight on it, although she would be considerably slower than she would have liked.

A sharp pain through her temple nearly knocked her to the ground. She stumbled into a tree. Her vision was still blurry, and the world was spinning. He’d hit her hard, and she thought she was likely feeling the effects of a concussion. She had to push through. She had no idea where she was or which direction she was heading. All she knew was she had to put some distance between herself and that car.

Lucy heard the squeal of brakes and turned back to look. The car had stopped and the man jumped from the front seat, rifle in hand. She turned and ran as hard as she could, ignoring the pain in her foot or the way the world seemed to change directions. Branches bit into her face and arms, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

Her abductor had the advantage. He might know these woods, and she was running blind and injured. She heard him behind her, chasing her. She recalled the road they’d turned off and knew she had to reach it. She could get lost in these woods and never be heard from again. Her only choice, if she wanted to stay alive, was reaching the road and flagging down a car for help.

Lucy climbed over the embankment and onto the road as headlights appeared in the distance. Relief washed over her. She hurried onto the pavement and waved her arms to try to catch the attention of the driver.

The approaching truck slammed on its brakes and skidded to a halt right in front of her. The driver’s-side door opened and a man jumped out.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She nearly fell at his feet with relief, but he grabbed her arms and held her up. “Help me. Please help me!” she cried. “He’s after me.”

His blue eyes studied her. She was certain her face was swollen and bloody from the beating she’d taken, and he couldn’t help noticing her hands were bound. He glanced around, then took her elbow and ushered her into the cab of his truck.

A girl of about thirteen, her young eyes wide with fear and shock, helped pull her onto the seat. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lucy scrambled across the seat. “A man. He’s chasing me.”

She noticed the look that passed between the young girl and the man who slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

“You’re safe now,” the girl stated. “My name’s Meghan, and that’s my dad, Bryce. He’ll protect you. He used to be a marine.”

“This man,” Bryce said. “What did he look like?”

She turned to answer him, but noticed movement outside the window. A man stood just clear of the tree line. He scanned the area, then raised his rifle.

“That’s him!” she shouted as he fired. Instinct kicked in, she grabbed the girl and flung them both to the floorboards as a bullet sliced through the windshield, buzzed past her and shattered the back glass.

She couldn’t believe he was still coming after her, even with two witnesses. Bryce’s demeanor was calm even as he sprang into action. He jammed the truck into reverse and hit the accelerator, his expression set even as a second bullet burst through the glass. Lucy lowered her head and shielded the girl as best she could as Bryce quickly turned the truck around and floored it. Another shot rang out, but this one was fainter and she knew he’d managed to put some distance between them and the shooter.

“Are you both okay?” he asked, never letting up on the accelerator.

She glanced at Meghan, who nodded, then Lucy answered him. “We’re okay.” Only then did she notice blood dripping on the seat from a wound to his head. “You’re hit.” She crawled back onto the seat and examined the wound on his ear.

He touched his hand to his head and saw blood, then waved it off like it was nothing. “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

“You need a hospital.”

“I’m heading there now, using a different road into town.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Lucy jerked back, fear hurtling through her. She didn’t know this man or what he would do to her. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I was just going to cut your binds.”

She glanced at her hands, still bound by the zip tie, and realized how silly she was being. This man and his daughter had rescued her. If she hadn’t run into him, her abductor might have caught up to her. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her then. She stared up into the soft blue of Bryce’s eyes, noting also his square jaw and blond beard. He had a kind face, and something about Meghan’s reassurance earlier that he’d been a marine comforted her. He’d certainly proven himself with the calm demeanor he’d maintained while being shot at. She held out her hands, and he quickly sliced through the zip tie.

“I don’t remember seeing you before. What’s your name?” he asked her.

“Lucy. Lucy Sanderson.”

He turned to her, and it was his turn to be shocked. “Danny’s fiancée? I was on my way to see you after I dropped Meghan off at a friend’s house.”

Realization dawned on her. This was the man who’d brought her to town. “You’re Bryce Tippitt.”

“I am. This is my daughter, Meghan.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl said.

“You too.” Suddenly, she did feel safer. She’d never met Bryce, but Danny had spoken fondly of his leadership skills and loyalty, and she’d talked to him on the phone before coming to town. She might have placed his name or voice sooner if her head was clearer. That small connection gave her some level of comfort. The warmth of the heater flowed over her, helping to calm her too. She was safe now.

She took a deep breath, finally allowing the pain and terror of the last hour to grab hold. Her ankle ached, her head pounded and every muscle in her body felt like stone. But she was free. She’d escaped a killer. And she owed her life to this man and his daughter.

She settled back against the seat, closed her eyes and listened to the hum of road as the darkness she’d been fighting finally took her.

“Daddy, she’s out!” Meghan yelled.

Bryce turned and saw Lucy’s head bob as she lost consciousness. He pulled the truck to the shoulder, then turned to check Lucy’s pulse. It was weak. “Lucy, wake up,” Bryce said, shaking her petite shoulders. Her dark hair slipped over her face. All he’d seen of her face earlier that wasn’t covered in dirt and blood was a pair of frightened green eyes staring back at him. He wished she would open them now. He was just noticing the dark bruise forming on her face, along with multiple scratches and a busted lip. Someone had beaten her. He tried to reassure his daughter. “She’s been running on adrenaline. It’s wearing off. She’ll be fine once we get her to the hospital.” He put the truck back into gear and took off again.

They were taking a longer route to town around the river, but he wasn’t about to turn and go back the other way, not when a maniac with a gun was out there. He was probably long gone by now, having missed his chance to follow them, but Bryce wasn’t taking any chances.

He dialed 911 on his cell phone, told the operator who answered what had happened and where they were headed, and she promised to have someone from the police department meet them at the hospital.

“Dad, the guy that attacked Lucy. Was it...?” Meghan’s voice was low and soft and she couldn’t finish the question, but he knew she was asking about the killer on the loose. It was a sad day when even thirteen-year-olds had to be worried about their own safety.

“We don’t know that,” he said, trying to reassure her, but was implying someone else was out there preying on women any better than knowing one killer was on the loose? His stomach rolled at the thought of what she’d escaped from. “Probably,” he conceded.

Bryce’s heart hammered against his chest. They’d encountered the man the press had dubbed the Back Roads Killer, the man who’d caused the deaths his brother was accused of. His gut churned thinking how close his daughter had been to that madman. His next thought was anger as he realized he couldn’t even identify the man who’d shot at them. Another opportunity to bring the real killer to justice, and he’d missed it.

Or maybe they hadn’t. He glanced at the woman on the seat beside him. What tale would she have when she awoke? Would she be able to describe her attacker? To his knowledge, she was the first to escape, the first who might be able to put a name and a face to the man who had terrorized this town for over a year.

His eyes fell on his brother’s contact number on his phone, and dread pumped through him. He pushed the speed dial for Clint’s number, each ring sending waves of worry through him. Finally the call rolled over to voice mail, and Bryce left a message telling his brother to call him ASAP.

He shouldn’t be making so many calls while driving, but reaching his brother was important. The local police had zeroed in on Clint as their prime suspect in the murders because his girlfriend, Jessica, had been the first victim, but his brother was no killer. Would someone from the FBI with no preconceived ideas about Clint have a fresh perspective and see this case for what it was? That had been his hope when he’d reached out to her for help. Would she be able to finally clear his brother’s name? She already had an advantage no one else had had before. She’d seen and escaped the attacker. He’d been burned before by government types who’d promised to help him then did nothing, yet he still dared to hope this time would be different. It was all he could do.

Police lights in his mirror caught his attention. A police cruiser pulled up beside him and motioned for him to roll down the window. He recognized the officer in the passenger’s seat as Jacob Newell.

He rolled down his window and Jacob spoke to him over the roar of the road. “Follow us to the hospital. We’ll escort you.” The police cruiser turned on its sirens and roared away. Bryce hit the accelerator and followed, all the while sending up prayers that when this beautiful brunette beside him awoke, she would be able to point the finger at her attacker, catch a killer who had preyed on his town for too long and clear his brother’s name once and for all. It was a lot to ask, but she’d already proven she was strong. Strong enough to escape a killer.

They arrived at the emergency room, and Lucy was whisked away on a gurney while Bryce was ushered into a curtained area to have his ear examined. He hadn’t even realized he’d been shot until Lucy pointed it out. His own adrenaline had gone on high alert when he’d seen the gunman. It hadn’t been his first firefight by any means—he’d seen plenty during his time as a marine and while working covert security for the CIA as part of the Special Operations Abroad team, or SOA—but his daughter had been with him and his main concern had been getting her to safety...her and the woman who’d pushed Meghan to the floorboards before he could even react. He hadn’t missed that unselfish act. She’d escaped a killer but had thought of another person when the shooting started.

Meghan stayed close by his side, her worry evident despite his assurances that he wasn’t hurt badly. He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. She was shaking, and rightly so. No one so young should ever have to witness what she had, or experience being shot at.

“We’re okay now,” he assured her.

“What about Lucy?” she asked.

The curtain flung open and Cassidy Summers, Bryce’s longtime friend and a nurse at the hospital, stood there looking surprised and worried. “What happened?” she asked as she walked in and removed the gauze the first attendant had placed over his ear to stop the bleeding.

“We found a woman on the road,” Meghan told her. “She’d been attacked and kidnapped, but she escaped and flagged us down. Then he started shooting at us!”

Cassidy shot Bryce a look. “It’s true then? I’ve heard people saying someone escaped the Back Roads Killer. The whole hospital has been in an uproar about it since the call came in.”

Bryce nodded. “It is true. Her name is Lucy Sanderson. She’s an FBI profiler. I asked her to come to town to help me prove Clint’s innocence. Instead, she was nearly killed by that maniac.”

Cassidy examined his ear. “It’s only a graze. You don’t even need stitches. I’ll bandage you up, and you can head home.”

“Daddy, can’t we stay and check on Lucy? I want to make certain she’s okay.”

He had the same concern. “We will, Meghan. I want to know too. Besides, I’m the one who invited her here. I feel responsible.”

A commotion in the lobby caused Cassidy to push back the curtain. Several reporters with TV cameras and sound equipment were setting up in the waiting area. Cassidy groaned. “The newspeople are here already. That was quick.”

He stood and pulled on his jacket. “News spreads fast in this town. Wait until they learn she’s with the FBI.” He turned to Cassidy. “Thanks for patching me up. Do you know where they took Lucy?”

“Down the hall to the last room on the left.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him back from barreling ahead. “Bryce, Meghan really shouldn’t be here around this craziness. Shouldn’t you take her home?”

Cassidy was always his voice of reason, but Bryce knew his daughter was too kindhearted to be able to leave without making sure Lucy was okay first. “I will after we know Lucy is okay.”

The disapproving look on her face told him she didn’t think he was making the smart choice to drag his thirteen-year-old daughter along with him, but she didn’t argue the point.

He grabbed Meghan’s hand and followed Cassidy down the hallway as Jim Ross, a detective with the local task force set up to find the Back Roads Killer, stepped in front of the reporters and issued a statement about the night’s events.

Cassidy stopped in front of the door. “Wait here. I’ll go inside and see if the doctor is still with her.”

Bryce agreed and pulled out his cell phone, trying his brother again while they waited. Once again, the call went straight to voice mail. Where was Clint, and why wasn’t he answering his phone?

Lucy had been frightened when she woke up in the hospital with no memory of how she’d gotten there. But then the pieces started coming back to her. The blitz attack. Being beaten and dumped into the trunk of a car. Escaping and being shot at. And the handsome marine and his daughter who’d rescued her.

The nurse spoke in a hushed tone to another nurse, then walked to her bed. “You’ve got some people wanting to see you. Are you up for it?”

Lucy nodded. She owed her life to Bryce Tippitt and his daughter, and she was anxious to hear if they were both all right.

Meghan hurried into the room, followed by Bryce and another man she didn’t recognize. Meghan rushed to the bed and threw her arms around Lucy. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Lucy was surprised by the affectionate act, but assured her she was fine.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Bryce said, standing beside her bed, his head cocked in a concerned manner as his steely blue eyes watched her.

“I owe you my life, Bryce Tippitt. You and your daughter.” She reached for his hand and clasped it, a comfortable warmth flowing through her.

“I’m glad we were there to help.”

Meghan beamed with pride as the other man stepped forward.

“Ma’am, I’m Detective Jim Ross, head of the Back Roads Killer task force.”

She shuddered at the name they’d given this offender. The Back Roads Killer. It seemed to fit. She’d met him and nearly become his latest victim.

“I’d like to ask you what you remember about the attack.”

“We should give you some privacy,” Bryce stated, pulling his hand from Lucy’s, but her instincts kicked in and she pulled it back.

“Please don’t leave me.” It was an irrational request that came out of nowhere, but after what she’d endured tonight, she felt better having this handsome almost-stranger around at least until she got her bearings again. Her safety seemed to depend upon his presence. His daughter’s words replayed in her mind. You’re safe now. He’ll protect you. He used to be a marine.

He hesitated, and she realized it was too much to ask. He had somewhere else to be, and she was imposing on his time. He had his daughter with him, and she suddenly realized he needed to see to her. She pulled her hand away and started to take back her request when he tightened his grip.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” He looked past Lucy to his daughter. “But you should wait outside.” He motioned one of the nurses, who stepped forward.

“I’ll take her. Come on, Meghan.”

The girl protested. “Do I have to? Can’t I please stay for a while longer?”

“No. This is police business.”

“Can I come back to see you?” Meghan asked, and Lucy was glad for it.

“Absolutely. Anytime.”

Once they’d left the room, Detective Ross turned to her. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight.”

Lucy sat up in the bed, ignoring the pounding in her head and the pain snaking up her ankle. She needed to recall every detail as clearly as she could, knowing that the smallest thing could lead them to the killer. “I arrived in town about five this afternoon and decided to take a run before meeting Bryce. I realized it was getting late, so I turned around near an old gas station to head back to town. That’s when I noticed a car heading for me. It slowed down then stopped, and a man jumped out, grabbed me, then pinned me down and tried to inject something into my neck, but I managed to knock it from his hand so he hit me instead. I was barely conscious when he put me in the trunk of his car. I’m not sure how long I was in it, but I was eventually able to pop the trunk and run for help. That’s when I flagged down Bryce and Meghan.”

“Did you see the man’s face?”

She saw Bryce tense and stand at attention in response to the question. She strained to remember something notable about the man, but it had all happened so quickly. She shook her head. “I think there was something covering it. He was wearing a hat low, but something about his face was obscured.”

Bryce slouched again, and she felt his disappointment and remembered she was here because his brother was the main suspect in this case. He’d probably been hoping she could identify her attacker as someone else.

“Where did this occur?” Detective Ross asked.

“I—I don’t know. I’m not familiar with this town. If I can see a map, I might be able to pick out the area.”

Ross pulled up a map of town on his cell phone and handed it to her, pointing out where Mrs. Ferguson’s B&B, the starting point for her run, was located for her to reference. She outlined the route she’d run, then estimated the place where the man had abducted her. “Right there. I turned around at that old service station. I’d only run a few minutes when the car approached me.”

“I’ll send a team out there to look for evidence. What about the vehicle? Can you describe it?”

“It was a sedan. Four doors. Silver, I think. Other than that, I didn’t see much. It all happened so fast.” She saw the look he gave her as he jotted the information in a notebook, and her face burned with embarrassment. She was an agent from the FBI. She should have had better observational skills. Yes, it had been dark and happened quickly, but she was a trained professional and should have noticed more details. Then she remembered something important. “I scratched him.” Detective Ross glanced up at her, and Bryce stood at attention. “I scratched his arm. I felt my fingernails dig into it.” She raised her hand to look at her fingernails as excitement bubbled through her. “I have his DNA under my fingernails.”

Bryce’s eyes brightened, matching her own excitement. “This is it,” he said. “This is the proof we need to prove my brother’s innocence and finally track down the real killer.”

“I’ll go find a lab tech to collect the samples,” Ross said before walking out.

Bryce ran a hand over his face, beaming. She liked the way it looked. “You did it. When I asked you to come here and help me prove my brother’s innocence, this wasn’t what I had in mind, but you did it.”

“It’s not exactly what I had in mind either when I agreed to come.” But that didn’t matter anymore. While profiling had value and often helped identify suspects, physical evidence of her attacker could not be refuted.

Bryce pulled up a chair, careful not to touch her hands again until the lab technician could scrape beneath her nails. “I never told you how sorry I was about Danny’s death. I had no idea when I contacted you.”

His condolences caught her off guard, and she struggled to respond. She hadn’t handled his death well, and even now, the mention of his name filled her with grief and guilt. “I should have reached out to his friends. I just—I just couldn’t deal with telling people at the time.”

“How did it happen?”

She was always uncomfortable with knowing how much to share about what had happened. “It was a car accident. He hit another car—a van—with a family inside. No one survived.” She didn’t tell him the rest. He deserved to think better of his friend, and what would he think of her profiling skills if he knew Danny had been under the influence of drugs when he hit that van or that she’d had no idea about his addiction to painkillers? It didn’t say much about her profiling skills that he’d fooled her for months.

Ross reentered the room with a lab technician who got busy scraping beneath her nails and collecting the skin samples.

“Send these to the FBI crime lab,” Lucy told him. “I’ll call my boss and have them fast-tracked. But even then, it’ll be weeks before the results are back. In the meantime, I’d like to see the case files so I can work up a profile.”

Ross nodded. “I’ll have them copied and sent to you.”

“When he contacted me, Bryce said the task force is focusing on his brother as their main suspect. How solid is the case against him?”

“It’s mostly circumstantial. That’s why we haven’t been able to make an arrest yet. It’s also the reason I was able to convince my chief to allow you to consult on this case. He’s anxious for some solid leads. I told him you would be able to provide some. He wants to make an arrest before another woman dies.”

“This evidence will prove my brother is innocent,” Bryce insisted. “Your task force needs to turn its focus elsewhere.”

“Right now, we’re focusing on the leads we have. I’m heading out to the scene where you were attacked, Agent Sanderson.” He set his card on the tray in front of her. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

“I will.”

He nodded to them both then headed out. Moments later the lab technician finished collecting her samples and left.

Lucy glanced at Bryce, now so excited for this new development that could prove his brother’s innocence. She’d offered her services, but profiling wasn’t an exact science. She might not be able to completely rule out Clint Tippitt as a suspect. DNA might do that...or it might prove his guilt. She wondered if Bryce was ready for that outcome. Did he believe in Clint, or was he foolishly blind to the truth? She’d been that way with Danny—blinded by love to who he really was—and people had died because of it. She hoped Bryce Tippitt wouldn’t make the same mistake.

“I should go check on Meghan and make sure she gets home safely.”

“Of course. Go. She needs you.” She felt silly for her earlier exclamation asking him to stay. He had a responsibility to his daughter first and foremost. “I’ll be fine.”

“I would normally ask my friend Cassidy to take her. They spend a lot a time together. She’s like a mother to Meghan, but she’s working. I’ll take her to her friend’s house, then I’ll come back afterward and check on you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine, Bryce. Really.”

“I’ll be back,” he assured her. “In the meantime, I’m going to ask Cassidy to check up on you. She’s the nurse who took Meghan out of here earlier. She’ll take care of you.”

She assured him again she was fine, and he left. She had to admit she was glad he was coming back. Silly or not, she felt better with him around. She didn’t know if it was because he’d saved her life or because he was her only contact in town—or simply just her last, final connection to Danny. Whatever the reason, Bryce Tippitt and his daughter had made an impact on her. For the first time since Danny’s death, she didn’t feel quite so alone.

The door opened and a nurse entered, pushing a rolling cart loaded with bouquets of flowers. “These arrived for you,” she said happily.

Lucy was confused. “Who are they from? Who even knows I’m here?” She didn’t know anyone in town, and none of her friends or family back in Virginia could have known about the attack already.

“Honey, it’s already all over the news that you were attacked and managed to escape. These are from well-wishers all over town.”

She set a vase with flowers on the table beside the bed, and Lucy felt her eyes starting to water at the aroma of the fresh-cut flowers. “They’re lovely, but I have allergies. Could you set them by the window where I can see them, but they’re not close enough to aggravate my allergies?”

“Of course.” She moved the flowers to the corner of the room, then pulled out the cards and handed them to Lucy so she could look through them. “If the police are done with their questioning, I’ll see about getting you something for the pain so you can rest tonight. With no evidence of anything broken and only a mild concussion, the doctor says you’ll probably be released in the morning.”

Lucy was glad to hear it. She would also be glad to get out of this hospital bed and the gown and into regular clothes. Mostly, she would be glad to stop feeling like a victim and get back to finding the killer. Yes, they had his DNA, but it would take time for the lab results to come back, and until they did, the women of this town were still in danger.

She glanced at the cart of flowers. The scent was still tickling her nose, but they were far enough away to prevent a full-blown flare up. There were at least fifteen bouquets. Fifteen people who didn’t know her but had heard about her predicament on the news and felt compelled to send her get-well flowers. Those small acts of kindness spoke more about this town than the killer on the loose did.

Lucy picked up the stack of note cards that had accompanied the flowers and looked through them. Most of the names she didn’t know, but one stood out. Mrs. Ferguson, the owner of the B&B where she was staying, had sent her an arrangement. That was sweet—Lucy would be sure to thank her.

She flipped to the next card and the warm, comforting feeling she’d been floating on turned to chills. Beneath the buzzing bee symbol of the flower shop was a threat.

Next time you die.

Bryce dropped Meghan off at a friend’s house for the night, then booked it back to the hospital. He knew he didn’t have to stay with Lucy. The nurse had assured him she would rest most of the night. But he wanted to be there, since he was the one who’d brought her to town.

And it had nothing to do with the way her hand had felt so light and delicate in his. Nope. Nothing at all.

He tried to phone his brother again as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. There was still no answer from Clint, no response to his repeated text messages and no return call. He didn’t like it. Another woman had been attacked, and his brother was MIA. It wouldn’t look good if he couldn’t explain where he’d been. The least Bryce could hope for was that his brother was somewhere that ten or twelve witnesses could place him for the whole night.

He hated that his mind went there. A woman was attacked in his town, and he was worried about his brother’s alibi? It wasn’t right, but it was the situation they found themselves in now. But the situation had changed for the better thanks to Lucy. She’d gotten DNA evidence from the man who’d attacked her, evidence that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t Clint.

He headed to Lucy’s room and found Jim Ross talking to her, along with two members of his forensics team.

“What’s going on?” he asked as they were bagging up bouquets of flowers from a cart in the corner.

He noticed Lucy looked even paler than she had earlier, the bruise on her face darker and more pronounced. She held up an evidence bag with a card inside. “The nurse brought in all these flowers from well-wishers. This note was attached to one of them.”

He didn’t miss the way her hand shook as she held it out to him. He took the bag and looked at it, his blood going cold at the threat. “Do we know who sent this?”

“Not yet,” Ross told him. “The nurse removed all the cards from the bouquets, so we don’t even know which one it was attached to. I’m having my people bag all the flowers in case, and we’ll run the card for fingerprints to see if we get a hit. Right now, that’s all we can do. I’ve got most of my resources tied up at the abduction site gathering evidence. Once we’re done with that, we’ll interview the people at the flower shop.”

“I’ll do it,” Lucy volunteered.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ross countered. “You’re the victim.”

But she wasn’t backing down. She squared her shoulders as she locked eyes with him. “I’m also an FBI agent trained in interview and interrogation. I want to do this.” She pushed back the blankets and tried to stand. Bryce quickly helped her when her knees threatened to buckle. She clearly wasn’t up for this tonight.

“I’ll go with her,” Bryce suggested. “But the shop will already be closed tonight.” He glanced at Ross, who shrugged.

“Fine. Let me know if anything comes of it. Who would have a reason to threaten you?” Ross asked her.

“Besides the man who abducted and tried to murder me, you mean?”

“Yes, besides him.”

Lucy sighed and settled back down on the bed, giving up the pretense of trying to stand. Good. She didn’t need to push herself. “I don’t know anyone in this town and, to my knowledge, the only people who knew I was coming were you and Bryce. Has this perpetrator reached out to the police or media before?”

Ross shook his head. “No. We’ve never received any form of communication from him.”

“Then either learning the FBI was involved bolstered his ego, or else he meant this threat for me personally.”

“The news has been broadcasting that you’re FBI,” Bryce told her. Her attack and escape from the killer were all anyone in town was talking about tonight. He’d even had to spend several minutes at Meghan’s friend’s house chitchatting about it with her mother before he’d been able to leave.

“Still, it’s an unlikely scenario,” Lucy continued. “If he was interested in taunting the police, he would have established contact before now. He likely sees me as a loose end—the one that got away and can give evidence that might lead police to him—or else as a challenge.”

“Either way, you’re a target,” Bryce stated. He didn’t like that scenario. She was still in danger because of him, because he’d asked her to come here. It was his duty, his responsibility to keep her safe. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I can take care of myself,” she assured him, but he waved off her show of strength. She was in this mess because of him, and he had a duty to keep her safe. He owed it to her and to Danny, but most of all, he’d borne the responsibility of placing others in danger before, with terrible results. He wasn’t sure he could go through that again.

“I’m not leaving.”

She stared up at him, her eyes shining with gratitude and acceptance. “Okay, but only until I fall asleep. Then I insist you go home. The doctor will be releasing me in the morning. We’ll go interview the floral shop employees then.”

Ross nodded. “Great. Let me know what you find out.” The forensics team signaled they were done, and Ross turned to leave. “I’m heading back out to the abduction site. I’ll let you know if we find anything. I’ll also have those files we talked about sent to the B&B.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

Bryce extended his hand and shook Ross’s. “I appreciate all you’re doing,” he said, and he meant it. Ross hadn’t had to go to bat for him with the chief and allow him to bring in the FBI, but he had and he was always fair enough to look at all the leads before making any conclusions. Bryce wished all the officers on the force showed the same restraint.

The nurse arrived and gave her something to help her pain, and Lucy seemed to rest better after that. Once she was sleeping soundly, Bryce slipped from the room and took up guard duty outside her door.

He passed the time by continuing to try to reach his brother and looking up the details of Danny’s death. Something about the expression on Lucy’s face when she’d told him about the car crash had left him wondering. He was sure she’d been hesitating, holding something back, and he feared the worst as he scoured the internet for news about the crash that had killed Danny and a family in a van.

He found articles on the crash from the previous year. A family of four, including two children, were killed when another driver had barreled through a traffic light and crashed into them. The driver of the car was also killed, and found to be under the influence of prescription medication at the time of the crash.

So that was what she hadn’t wanted to tell him. Danny had been abusing prescription meds. Bryce sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as weariness weighed heavily on him. He’d known too many men, good men, who’d succumbed to addiction after suffering injuries in the service. As far as he’d known, Danny’s injuries during his last combat mission hadn’t been severe, certainly nothing that would have prevented him from returning after recovery. But he’d decided it was time to leave military life and focus on a career in law. The last time Bryce had spoken to Danny, he’d been excited about graduating law school and being hired by a criminal defense firm. He’d also been excited about planning a life with Lucy.

How easily it had all faded away.

He clicked on an image on his phone of him and Meghan taken only a few days after he’d returned home from his last mission as an SOA operator. It had been a rescue mission at an embassy and people had died, people he’d sent in to help the embassy workers. In an instant, his decision had cost three families their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers. It was a burden he had to live with, and one he didn’t shoulder lightly.

He would look after Lucy because he owed it to her for the danger he’d placed her in. But he had to be careful too. He recalled how enamored Meghan had been with the lovely brunette FBI agent. She’d already texted him twice since he’d left her at her friend’s house to check on her, and that was only after gushing about Lucy to her friend for several minutes after she’d arrived.

Yes, Lucy was turning out to be a fierce, amazingly strong federal agent, but that was all she could ever be in their lives. The press had called his SOA team heroes for acting to save lives, but his own government had labeled him insubordinate for not obeying their command to stand down and ignore the tragedy unfolding at the embassy. Lucy was a government agent, and Bryce had learned the hard way that his government could not be trusted—therefore Lucy could not be trusted.

No matter how her eyes seemed to twinkle at him.