Killer Insight. Virginia Vaughan

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