Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3)

by Alexa Grace

  Profile of Retribution

  Book Three of the Profile Series

  Alexa Grace

  Also by Alexa Grace

  Deadly Offerings

  Deadly Deception

  Deadly Relations

  Deadly Holiday

  Profile of Evil

  Profile of Terror

  Critical Acclaim for

  USA TODAY Best-Selling Author

  Alexa Grace

  “Grace delivers enough sizzle to raise the temperature, showcases her talent for sharp repartee and executes the action like an ace fighter pilot. With riveting suspense and commanding characters, this is one addicting, must-have summer read.”

  —Diane Morasco, Reviewer for RT Book Reviews

  “…great chemistry, a great sexual tension, and enough drama to fill a corn field…really great mystery, with just a touch of horror in the form of a serial killer… I definitely recommend this if you are into romantic suspense novels!”

  —Liz at Fictional Candy

  “With engaging characters, witty banter, a sexy hero, a feisty heroine, murder, suspense, romance, a serial killer, what’s not to enjoy in this fast-paced romantic suspense. If you enjoy Cherry Adair and Catherine Mann’s writing, you’ll enjoy Alexa Grace. What a strong debut!”

  —MyBookAddictionReviews

  “Up-and-coming author, Alexa Grace, captivates with her literary debut—the Deadly Trilogy, a romantic suspense police procedural series. Masterfully weaving current, past, and future characters throughout, readers are afforded the opportunity to not only attain and retain beloved relationships, but also intimately connect mentally to primary and secondary individuals through glimpses into—at times disturbingly dark—thought processes.” Five Stars!

  —TopList-BestFictionBooks.com

  “Up-and-coming author, Alexa Grace, captivates with racy, yet tasteful, romance paired with intense, suspenseful investigations makes for a contagious, page-turning police procedural series.”

  —TopList-BestFictionBooks.com – Five Stars

  “Alexa Grace is one of the most talented, upcoming authors. Her characters are believable and strong, her stories credible, her writing, fabulous. She has an easy-to-read style that provides enough details without being overtly graphic.”

  —Musing Maddy, Reviewer at Ravishing Romances

  Profile of Retribution

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Alexa Grace

  License Notes:

  This novel is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this work with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design—Covers by Ramona

  Dedication

  In loving memory to my mother, Mildred Lucille Golden, who loved and supported me until the end of her life. This one’s for you, Mom.

  Acknowledgements

  I extend a special thank you to Lt. Adrian Youngblood of the Seminole County (Florida) Sheriff’s Office, who generously gave his time to answer my questions and review the book for police procedural accuracy.

  Thank you also to Phillip Lehman and David Grant who answered all my questions about emergency medicine. Any mistakes here are entirely mine.

  My gratitude goes to my editors: Karen Golden-Dible, Vicki Braun, and Ally Robertson. I am thankful for having such a great editing team behind me.

  Special appreciation goes to my sister, Karen, who took over the grueling editing process when I broke my wrist. Thanks so much, Karen.

  I am very grateful for the hard work of the Profile of Retribution Beta Reader Team, who devoted personal time to review each page of this book: Gail Goodenough, Lisa Jackson, Tammy Richardson, Mona Kekstadt, Sylvia Smith, Debbie Perry, Cindy Rossetti and Melissa McGee.

  Congratulations and appreciation goes to Sandy Galloway, Angie Hunt, Deacon James, and Gail Sawyer for winning and/or agreeing to have characters named after them. I hope you enjoy your literary immortality.

  Finally, I want to express my appreciation to my daughter, Melissa, my family, friends, readers and street team. Without their encouragement and support, this book would not have been possible.

  Chapter One

  Cameron

  Sergeant Cameron Chase placed a bouquet of flowers on the ground and then bent down to brush off his mother’s gravestone. Although she was always in his thoughts, he didn’t visit her grave often, and felt a little guilty about it. Lillian Chase had worked in law enforcement, so he hoped she understood how little time the job left for a personal life.

  “Hello, Mom. I’m having one of those days when I need to talk to someone who will understand. That’s why I’m here. I don’t know how you raised three boys single-handedly and worked in law enforcement as the county’s first female sheriff. All at the same time. How on earth did you do it all? The old-timers who knew you tell me that you were one of the best county sheriffs in the state, male or female. They said you were fair with your deputies and ruthless when it came to solving crimes and bringing closure to victims. I can testify that you were the best mother a kid could have. Just wish your time on earth hadn’t ended before I had a chance to tell you that.” A spring breeze ruffled his hair as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Brody and Gabe are doing well. Brody just wrapped up a couple of career-making cases involving three serial killers, and the devastation they wrought for their victims’ families and our entire community.

  “Your youngest son, Gabe, is a changed man. He’s happily engaged to a woman for whom he’d give his life. Her name is Kaitlyn, and she’s an elementary school teacher who is gutsy and funny and keeps Gabe on his toes. He almost lost her when she was abducted by a sociopath. Thank God she used her wits to escape, and Gabe wasn’t far behind the suspect’s vehicle in our helicopter to rescue her. Gabe is a private investigator and has his own small business now. He’s good at what he does, especially his work in computer forensics.

  “Brody fell in love, Mom. Her name is Carly Stone. She’s a profiler, smart like you, and equally determined to find justice for those who have suffered at the hands of others. The two got married earlier this month in the backyard of the Honeymoon Cottage, and were surrounded by people who love them. They’re in Orlando now on their honeymoon, staying at Carly’s house there for a full month. I don’t think either of them had taken even a week’s vacation before, so this time off will be good for them.

  “So that’s the good news. Here’s the bad. I’m worried about Bradley Lucas and his wife, Tisha. They’re trying their best to survive a living nightmare, and I’m concerned whether they will be able to. They were devastated earlier this year when they had to bury their two seventeen-year-old sons. But how do they come to terms with the evidence that their sons murdered seven young women before they died? Brody, Gabe and I attended their sons’ funeral and tried to comfort Bradley and Tisha. But they were inconsolable. If I were in their place, I’m sure I would have been the same.

  “The hard part is knowing what to do to help them. Tisha never leaves the house. Whenever I make an attempt to reach out to Bradley, he pushes me away. I don’t know what or who he hates the most, his sons’ crimes or himself. How do you convince parents whose children commit atrocities that t
hey are not responsible? How can you encourage them to forgive themselves and move forward?

  Chapter Two

  Bryan

  Dr. Bryan Pittman sat in the same booth at Mollie’s Cafe that he sat in every morning for the last two years. He spent a lot of time at Mollie’s, and it wasn’t just for her renowned chocolate-chocolate chip muffins. Long ago, he’d told Cameron Chase that he wanted to marry Mollie just for her baking abilities. But who was he kidding? It was much more than that. He wanted her, plain and simple. And he wouldn’t stop pursuing her until he had her in his bed and in his life.

  Carrying a hot coffee pot, she walked toward him wearing a white chef apron over a black tee and a pair of denim jeans molded to her hips and thighs. She had a body that pushed all his buttons in a big way.

  Briefly, she stopped to refresh another diner’s coffee mug, then headed back to him.

  “Good morning, Bryan.”

  He loved the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “How are you today, Mollie?”

  “A little busy, but that’s good. Right? We’re working on a big catering order for the golf tournament on Saturday. Are you playing?” A tangle of light auburn hair spilled over her shoulders as she leaned down to fill his cup with the hot brew.

  “I’m playing, but don’t have any great expectations for the trophy. My golf abilities aren’t exactly my athletic strength. But the tournament’s for charity. How could I refuse?”

  “Well, I hope you win.” Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled as she slid into the booth to sit across from him.

  He loved their breakfast conversations, hearing the sound of her laugh, and news from her life. Mollie was a ray of sunshine in his dark world of death and autopsies. It wasn’t that he regretted his career choice. The bodies he examined revealed stories about how the victims lost their lives. Those stories often brought the dead the justice they deserved. It was rewarding work, but being with Mollie made him forget death for a while. She pulled him back into the world of the living.

  “How’s Hailey?” Mollie’s daughter was a great kid, and he loved how animated Mollie was when she talked about her.

  “She’s sixteen going on thirty, and as of last night, she’s grounded.”

  “What happened?”

  “Hailey and her best friend, Niki, went to the mall. Hailey needed new shoes. They didn’t get home until midnight, way past curfew for a school night. The mall closes at nine o’clock, so what were they doing for three hours?”

  Bryan shrugged. He’d never been married, had no children, and wasn’t exactly an expert on teenage daughters. Not that he didn’t want all that. He’d give anything to settle down with the right woman. And, that woman was sitting across the table from him.

  “I couldn’t believe how angry and indignant Hailey was when I grounded her. What did she expect? It’s not like her curfew is a big secret.”

  “So what does grounding mean to Hailey?”

  “It means no cell phone, except to call me when she gets out of school. No social media. All Facebook and Twitter activity comes to a grinding halt. Most of all, it means no going out with Niki on school nights and no dates for two weeks.”

  “What about you, Mollie? You’re not grounded. What do you do in your free time?”

  Mollie blushed and squirmed in her seat. “I don’t have much of that with running the café and raising a teenager.”

  “You need time, just for you, Mollie. You only have one life.”

  “Is that the doctor’s diagnosis?”

  Bryan grinned and sipped his coffee. “Yes, it is. And I have a prescription. What time do you get off work tonight? I can get reservations at…”

  “Bryan, I can’t go out with you.”

  “Actually, you can.”

  “How uncomfortable would that be? You’re best friends with Brody and Cameron Chase, and I’ve had relationships with both of them. Awkward. Don’t you see? There can’t be anything between us.”

  “Not awkward unless we make it that way. And we won’t. I don’t care about your past. I want your today and your future.” Bryan paused for a moment, his narrow gaze focusing on her face. “You can’t deny there is something between us, Mollie, and I won’t let you ignore it.”

  Chapter Three

  Mollie

  Mollie sat down across from Bryan and wondered how long she’d have the willpower to refuse him. He was a gorgeous man with cropped black hair, serious blue eyes, and a devastating smile that made her pulse accelerate. Acutely aware of his broad shoulders, she noted the way his white lab coat strained over impressive biceps. It wasn’t hard to imagine those hard-muscled arms wrapped around her, pressing her body close to his. Each time his gaze met hers, her stupid heart skipped a beat. It was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her. Every time she was with him, the pull was stronger.

  It was more than the physical attraction. Bryan was smart and made her laugh. And she found herself looking forward to seeing him each morning. But she was gun-shy of getting involved in the same kind of doomed relationship she’d had with Cameron Chase. Cam had been her best friend for years when she decided to make it more, and she slept with him when her feelings for his brother, Brody, were unresolved. She’d hurt Cam deeply when she let her emotions get out-of-hand, and rushed to Brody’s side after his surgery. She’d made a fool of herself. Worse than that, she’d lost Cam, and alienated both Brody and Carly. She felt like such an idiot. So getting involved with Brody and Cam’s best friend was not an option. She’d learned from her mistake. Hadn’t she?

  “I’m sorry, Bryan. Lord knows I’m attracted to you. But the two of us can’t happen.” She blinked the moisture from her eyes and slid out of the booth, grabbed the coffee pot, and rushed toward the kitchen.

  Mollie had reached the kitchen door when she heard a china mug crash to the floor along with the high-pitched, startled squeals of a couple of customers. Scanning the dining area, she noticed all eyes were focused on a large man in a red flannel shirt, who was dabbing a napkin at a pool of coffee on a small table where a blond woman sat near a window. Reaching inside a kitchen closet, she pulled a clean towel from a shelf, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and headed for the table. The man who’d been mopping up the coffee, was now gripping the back of the woman’s neck, forcing her to look at him, with his face inches from hers. His expression hostile, he whispered something, threw a soiled napkin at her and marched out of the café.

  As Mollie drew closer, she realized the blond-haired woman was Tisha Lucas. But before she could reach the table, Tisha had fled from the restaurant.

  Chapter Four

  Tisha

  Tisha Lucas couldn’t sleep. So what else was new? That devil, insomnia, had her in its grips and wouldn’t let go. It was five o’clock, and soon Bradley would roll out of bed and hit the shower like he did every morning of their marriage. Once her husband’s routines had been comforting, now they were just annoying. She rolled over to watch him sleep. Despite the graying of his hair and the fine lines around his eyes, he looked childlike as he slept. There was a time when the urge to run her fingers along the jaw line of his unshaven face was so tantalizing she’d been unable to resist. Once they had a hard time keeping their hands off each other, and she looked forward to seduction and stolen moments alone.

  On her back, she stared at the ceiling and wondered what she’d do with her day. At one point, she’d considered getting a part-time job just to get out of the house, but who would hire her—the mother of monsters? Tisha sighed deeply as she remembered it was her housekeeper’s day off. At least she wouldn’t have the girl hovering over her, asking her every five minutes what she needed. Hell, anyone with half a brain would know what she needed. She needed her boys back like they were as children, and her marriage happy again.

  There was a good chance she’d not interact with another human being until Bradley came home from work. Not that he was a brilliant conversationalist, especially since their world imploded when their sons died. Tisha was
a prisoner in her own home and she was sick of it. Too many days ambling about her beautiful house and grounds had her bored to tears.

  Tisha wanted her friends back, as two-faced, unsupportive, selfish and materialistic as they were. She’d even take a frenemy or two, just to keep life interesting. Anything was better than the endless days of loneliness and unholy boredom when her only ally was a bottle of wine.

  Slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Bradley, Tisha got into the shower and warmed the water until it steamed. Half of her wished Bradley would hear the water and join her, the other half hoped he wouldn’t. Standing directly under the spray, she watched the water run rivulets down her body until they plopped on the tile beneath her feet.

  As Tisha dressed in a knit top and cotton skirt, she made a decision. She’d be damned if she’d continue being a prisoner in her own house. Slipping on her shoes, she snatched her purse off the vanity and headed toward the garage.

  Powering down every window of her sleek BMW X-5 SUV, she ignored the chill of the morning air, and laughed as the wind whipped her hair about her face. It was if she were a teenager again, racing down a country road in the brand-new Mustang convertible her daddy bought her for her sixteenth birthday. She turned up the volume as an old Tina Turner song played on the radio. Remembering the words, she sang along.