The Agent's Redemption. Lisa Childs

the question or would hear it on a later news broadcast.

      They were anxiously awaiting news—any news—of their missing loved one. They didn’t need to hear it like this—on the news. They needed to hear it from him directly—as soon as he learned something.

      “Have you ever found Lexi Drummond’s body?” another reporter yelled out the question. “It’s been five years.”

      Six. Lexi had been the serial killer’s first victim. And no, her body had never been found. Her family still waited for closure. But he had nothing to offer them. No body. No suspect. No clues...

      If his head hadn’t already been pounding from the concussion he’d sustained a few days ago, it would have started hurting then. Pain throbbed inside his skull where he could feel his heart beating—fast and frantically. As an FBI profiler, he had caught a lot of killers over the years—but not this one. Lexi Drummond’s killer had eluded him and killed again and again and again.

      Now the killer had taken another girl. Another victim...

      Jared would find her, though. She would not become another Lexi Drummond. Not in any way. He had gotten way too involved in Lexi’s case and way too involved with Lexi’s family. He’d failed them and himself.

      For the first time in his career, his professionalism had slipped. But that had happened only that one time; he wouldn’t let it happen again.

      Jared ignored the reporters and flashed his shield to the officer posted outside the duplex. Then he slipped through the open front door. The girl hadn’t been abducted from her home, but the police were searching it for any clues to who might have taken her.

      Jared had to study all the aspects of the case in order to construct a profile of the killer. He studied the crime scenes, the evidence—if any—left behind, the manner in which the victim was killed, and he profiled the victim, too. He didn’t believe this killer randomly chose his victims. So getting to know them better would help lead Jared back to their killer.

      But hopefully Amy Wilcox was only missing. Hopefully she wasn’t dead yet—like all the other victims. Even though Lexi Drummond’s body hadn’t been found, too much of her blood had been discovered at the crime scene for her to have survived whatever wounds she had suffered. Six years had passed, but he could still see all that blood. So much blood...

      He blinked away the memory of that horrific crime scene and focused on his current surroundings. Amy Wilcox’s duplex was painted in fun colors—bright greens and yellows, like a highlighter that outlined the many picture frames hanging on the walls.

      To get to know her better, Jared studied those pictures. There were photos of her water-skiing and rock climbing and running races. As athletic as she was, she wouldn’t have been easy to abduct—which explained the signs of a struggle at the primary crime scene: the ransacked and blood-spattered dressing room from which she’d been abducted.

      She had almost gotten away from her assailant there. Maybe she would get away from him again. Jared moved on to the next picture and froze, his whole body tensing.

      She wasn’t alone in this picture. She had her arm around another girl who was laughing into the camera with her. Unlike Amy who had dark hair and eyes, this woman was blond with sparkling blue eyes and a dimple in her right cheek when she smiled.

      Lexi Drummond...

      * * *

      HER HAND SHAKING, Rebecca Drummond pushed hard on the off button of the remote. The TV screen flickered before going black but not before she saw his face again. Special Agent Jared Bell. With his reddish-brown hair and light brown eyes, he was still handsome—maybe even more handsome than he’d been six years ago because his features were more defined, more rugged. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and faint bruises darkened one side of his face.

      The reporter’s words rang in her ears: “FBI profiler Jared Bell checked himself out of the hospital against doctor’s orders in order to take over the investigation into the disappearance of Amy Wilcox, which confirms speculation that she is the latest victim of the Bride Butcher serial killer.”

      Horror gripped Rebecca, paralyzing her. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t move from the couch where she was sitting. She could only think of... Jared.

      He had been in the hospital.

      Why?

      How badly had he been hurt that he had checked himself out against doctor’s orders?

      He was obviously still obsessed with the case. Obsessed with finding a killer that he already would have found had he listened to Rebecca.

      But he had refused to listen to Rebecca about anything. Seeing him again should have brought back anger or pain or resentment. Instead, other feelings—so many other feelings—rushed over her, overwhelming her.

      She grabbed a pillow from the couch and wrapped her arms around it, but she wanted to wrap them around herself—to hold herself together. The doorbell dinged, startling her into jumping and letting out a short cry of surprise.

      The door shook as a fist pounded on it now. And a deep and familiar voice called out, “Are you all right?”

      He’d heard her. She couldn’t hide now, like she wanted to hide. She’d promised him that he would never see her again. She hadn’t fixated on him because he was investigating her sister’s disappearance. Her face heated as even now, all these years later, the embarrassment rushed back.

      She had been a fool to think herself in love with Jared Bell. And she would be an even bigger fool to open the door and let him back into her life.

      The door rattled harder. “I’m coming in!”

      He would break it down; she had no doubt that he would, just like he’d broken down the walls of her grief and pain and opened her heart to him.

      She had rebuilt those walls since she’d seen him last. She wouldn’t let him back into her heart. But she had no choice about letting him into her life. She opened the door just as he was putting his shoulder to the wood, and he stumbled inside the living room.

      He spared her a quick glance before visually searching the room for any threats. Even battered from whatever had sent him to the hospital, he was still in full protective FBI mode. He turned back to her and asked, “Are you all right?”

      No. She hadn’t been all right with seeing him on her television—even though she had seen him on the news occasionally over the past six years. She certainly wasn’t all right with him being in her house.

       What if...

      She shuddered to think of it—of them meeting. But that wouldn’t happen. She would get rid of Jared quickly. She would make certain he was long gone before Alex came home.

      She nodded and assured him, “I’m fine. The doorbell startled me because I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Not for an hour yet. “Especially not you.”

      His handsome face moved with a slight wince at her jab. But she knew that she hadn’t really hurt him. He would have had to care for her to be able to hurt him.

      “Why are you here, Jared?” she asked, and then reminded him, “You were the one who thought it best we didn’t see each other anymore.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t handle anything very well concerning your sister’s case.”

      “My sister’s case...” That was all Rebecca had been to him—just part of a case. She was the one who had foolishly thought they were more.

      “Why are you here?” she asked again. “You didn’t come here to apologize.”

      “I should have,” he said, as if just realizing it himself.

      The man was a genius. A real one. He had graduated high school at thirteen, college with a doctorate in criminal psychology at nineteen and then had been recruited into the FBI. He had worked many cases—solving