Lisa Childs - The Agent's Redemption

“I told you—”

He pressed his fingers over her lips. Then his eyes—those eerie pale brown eyes—darkened as his pupils dilated. His fingers slid across her mouth … caressingly.

He jerked his hand away from her mouth. “I know who you think killed your sister. I know.”

And she waited for him to refute her belief as he always had. But he stayed silent again.

“You’re not telling me I’m wrong this time,” she said.

He emitted a weary-sounding sigh. “I’m not as cocky as I was six years ago.”

He was different. No less serious or determined or driven, but perhaps a little less confident. Lexi’s case had shaken his confidence.

And maybe it had him second-guessing himself.

Because now he uttered the question she’d been waiting for him to ask since she’d overheard his confrontation with the reporters.

“Is he my son, Becca?” he asked. “Is Alex mine?”

The Agent’s

Redemption

Lisa Childs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LISA CHILDSwrites paranormal and contemporary romance for Mills & Boon. She lives on thirty acres in Michigan with her two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her website, www.lisachilds.com, or snail-mail address, PO Box 139, Marne, MI 49435, USA.

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With great appreciation for my sisters, Jackie Lewakowski, Phyllis Elsbrie & Helen Glover

Contents

Cover

Introduction “I want to get you closure. I really want to find Lexi and her killer.” “I told you—” He pressed his fingers over her lips. Then his eyes—those eerie pale brown eyes—darkened as his pupils dilated. His fingers slid across her mouth … caressingly. He jerked his hand away from her mouth. “I know who you think killed your sister. I know.” And she waited for him to refute her belief as he always had. But he stayed silent again. “You’re not telling me I’m wrong this time,” she said. He emitted a weary-sounding sigh. “I’m not as cocky as I was six years ago.” He was different. No less serious or determined or driven, but perhaps a little less confident. Lexi’s case had shaken his confidence. And maybe it had him second-guessing himself. Because now he uttered the question she’d been waiting for him to ask since she’d overheard his confrontation with the reporters. “Is he my son, Becca?” he asked. “Is Alex mine?”

Title Page The Agent’s Redemption Lisa Childs www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author LISA CHILDS writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Mills & Boon. She lives on thirty acres in Michigan with her two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her website, www.lisachilds.com , or snail-mail address, PO Box 139, Marne, MI 49435, USA.

Dedication With great appreciation for my sisters, Jackie Lewakowski, Phyllis Elsbrie & Helen Glover

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Bulbs flashed, and Jared Bell flinched with each bright light as he ran the gauntlet of reporters with their microphones and cameras. “Special Agent Bell!” they called out to him as he walked past where they had lined up along the residential street. “Special Agent Bell!”

He ignored them or at least he tried to ignore them as he ducked under the crime scene tape across the end of a driveway.

“Have you found her body yet?” a reporter hurled the question at him. Even though Jared wasn’t looking at the guy, he recognized the artificially deep voice of Kyle Smith, and he wasn’t surprised Smith had showed up. This narcissist didn’t just report the news; he tried to make himself part of the story—at least of this story, this case. He was as relentless as he was insensitive.

Jared flinched at the question, hating how it would hurt whatever member of the missing girl’s family might have heard 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.