Killer Insight. Virginia Vaughan

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