Killer Insight

From profiling criminals

to being hunted by a killer.

Asking FBI agent Lucy Sanderson to profile the Back Roads Killer is the only way Bryce Tippett can prove his brother is innocent—unless Lucy becomes the next victim. When someone begins stalking her just as she arrives in town, it falls to the single dad to protect her. But as clues lead in unexpected directions, can they uncover the truth…and survive to expose it?

Covert Operatives

VIRGINIA VAUGHAN is a born-and-raised Mississippi girl. She is blessed to come from a large Southern family, and her fondest memories include listening to stories recounted around the dinner table. She was a lover of books from a young age, devouring tales of romance, danger and love. She soon started writing them herself. You can connect with Virginia through her website, virginiavaughanonline.com, or through the publisher.

Also By Virginia Vaughan

Covert Operatives

Cold Case Cover-Up

Deadly Christmas Duty

Risky Return

Killer Insight

Rangers Under Fire

Yuletide Abduction

Reunion Mission

Ranch Refuge

Mistletoe Reunion Threat

Mission Undercover

Mission: Memory Recall

No Safe Haven

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Killer Insight

Virginia Vaughan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90646-7

KILLER INSIGHT

© 2020 Virginia Vaughan

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“There’s nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you…”

Lucy wanted to believe that. Bryce was a good and loyal man. How she wanted to lean into him! She fought her own instincts. She had to.

Bruce took the room key from her. “Let me check the room before you go inside.”

He pulled his gun from his holster and pushed open the door, flicking on the light. He opened the bathroom door and, when he did, a blast of gunfire sent Lucy flying backwards. She hit the wall and had the breath knocked from her.

Bryce was holding his shoulder and blood was pooling between his fingers.

Lucy grabbed up Bryce’s gun from the floor and kicked open the bathroom door, but all she saw was a rifle hanging from a wire attached to the ceiling. There was no shooter, only an elaborate booby trap.

“I’m calling for an ambulance.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he barked. “Someone set a

booby trap in your room. That was meant for you, Lucy.”

Whoever had set this trap had intended to kill her.

Bryce had taken the bullet that was meant for her.

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for joining me in the final chapter of my Covert Operatives series. I’m sad to say goodbye to these characters, but I’m looking forward to a new series with new fun and exciting journeys.

I hope you enjoyed reading Bryce and Lucy’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I loved the idea of taking an FBI profiler—someone trained to see and understand human behavior—and have her confidence thrown a curveball by something happening in her own life that she couldn’t see. Her guilt over her fiancé’s hidden addiction proved that her faith had been in her FBI training and her profiling skills. Ultimately, like we all do, she had to learn that only God can see and know all things.

I love hearing from my readers! You can contact me online through my website www.virginiavaughanonline.com or on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/ginvaughanbooks.

Blessings!

Virginia

He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.

—Micah 7:19

This book is dedicated to my friends and family, without whom this writing gig wouldn’t be possible.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

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.