"Fast paced & thrilling start to a new series"
Reviewed by Debbie Wiley
Posted December 22, 2013
Romance Suspense | Thriller
A serial killer is preying on women and FBI Special Agent
Evelyn Baine is determined to stop him... no matter what
she has to cross.
Evelyn is a profiler, still new to the FBI's Behavioral
Analysis Unit (BAU) but determined to show the other agents
that she can stand on her own. Evelyn has had her own
childhood brush with a serial killer that has left her
haunted, unwavering in her commitment to bring closure to
the families of the victims of the Bakersville Burier. Will
Evelyn find the Bakersville Burier or will this case destroy
HUNTED is a fascinating look into how a profiler thinks and
processes a crime. Elizabeth Heiter does a great job at
giving us a lot of technical information without making it
boring. I like that Elizabeth Heiter focuses more on the
profiling than on the gruesome acts committed by the
Bakersville Burier. In fact, the tension is actually
heightened by this and I couldn't turn the pages fast enough
at the ending scene with the serial killer.
I also like Evelyn Baine as a main character, especially
seeing how she struggles to cope in a male-dominated world.
However, I struggled a bit over Evelyn's continuous venture
outside the lines, particularly since she has just over a
year experience in the BAU. Elizabeth Heiter gives us some
marvelous insight as to why the boundaries blur for Evelyn
but not as to why her supervisor didn't pull her back,
particularly after the case becomes very personal.
HUNTED is a fast paced, thrilling start to a new series. I
look forward to seeing Evelyn Baine grow both professionally
and emotionally. HUNTED is definitely a book to add to your
bookshelves if you like investigative thrillers.
Learn more about Hunted
Terror stalks a small Virginia town.
FBI rising star, criminal profiler Evelyn Baine, knows
to think like a serial killer. But she's never chased
like the Bakersville Burier, who hunts young women and
displays them, half-buried, deep in the woods. As the
count climbs, Evelyn's relentless pursuit of the killer
her career—and her life—at risk. And the evil lurking in
Burier's mind may be more than even she can unravel.
Terror is closer than she thinks…
The Bakersville Burier knows he's got an FBI profiler on
trail. He knows who she is and where to find her. And
biding his time, because he's planned a special
for Evelyn. She may have tracked other killers, but he
to make this her last chase. This time it's her turn to
He should have killed the old man.
The second he’d realized Harris had spotted him
trespassing, he should’ve flanked the old man. Just crept
around behind him and snapped his neck. Instead, he’d
disappeared. Blended right into the woods and slipped
And while he’d huddled in his car, cursing himself for
getting distracted enough to let Harris spot him, the old
man had kept looking. And the old man had found
An angry tirade screamed in his mind as he watched
another police car swing into Harris’s driveway, sirens
blaring. All those months of scouting out the woods
wasted. All that time finding the perfect place, making
sure not even Harris would discover it, squandered. It’d
been his secret hideaway, where he could display his
trophies, revel in his triumphs.
And Harris was ruining everything. Damn it! Why hadn’t he
stopped the old man when he had the chance?
By now, the cops were digging out his women, taking them
away. By now, the cops were calling the FBI. Same way
they had three years ago.
Unease surfaced, mingling with the anger, blurring with
guilt. Three years ago, he’d made one mistake. Made just
one kill he regretted.
But besides Diana, no one had ever suspected. And here in
Virginia, no one knew him. The cops could call whoever
they wanted; he’d taken precautions. They weren’t going
to catch him.
And he wasn’t finished yet.
“Baine. My office. Now!”
FBI Special Agent Evelyn Baine spun the chair in her tiny
cubicle, but her boss was already slamming the door to
She shrugged back into her suit jacket, buttoned it to
cover the weapon at her hip and straightened her spine.
Dan Moore’s tone didn’t bother her; the ASAC—Special
Agent in Charge—was always curt with her. In fact,
getting called into his office this early was a good
thing. It meant she was getting a new case to profile.
Her anticipation grew as she wove around cubicles in the
unmarked office building in Aquia, Virginia, where the
FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) was housed. This was
her favorite time, early in the morning before most
agents arrived, before the smell of burned coffee and
stale air-conditioning permeated everything, when it was
just her and her cases.
She entered Dan’s office and found him settled at his
oversize desk. The head of BAU was, as usual, surrounded
by an aura of stress that gave his skin a grayish hue and
constantly slanted his eyebrows toward his nose. Today,
he also looked frazzled.
“Take a seat.” Dan popped three antacids into his mouth
and took a swig of coffee. “Ever been to Bakersville?”
“No, but it’s north of here, right? Small and rural?” She
leaned forward, ready for another chance to take on one
of society’s worst predators. Ready for another chance to
give someone else the closure she’d never had. “What
Dan frowned, maybe because he hadn’t warmed to her in the
past year despite her high success rate. Then again,
maybe the antacids had gotten stuck in his throat.
Evelyn didn’t need to hear the answer to her question to
know there were sleepless nights and more long hours in
her future. When police had a problem so terrible they
couldn’t handle it themselves, they came to BAU. Given
the number of profile requests faxed into the office
every day, to actually get a profiler assigned meant a
police department’s problem was both unusual and deadly.
“Earlier this morning, two murdered women were discovered
in the woods,” Dan said. “There are a few preliminaries
in the file I emailed you, though not much. I took a lot
of it over the phone, but I think it’s better if you go
straight to the crime scene and get the specifics
firsthand. Bakersville wants you on-site now.”
“Now? For only two murders?” The question might have
sounded insensitive to her a year ago, but she’d been
here long enough to understand that time was a commodity
BAU agents didn’t have. Normally, the police would have
to strike out big before BAU swooped in.
“It’s a weird one. The Bakersville police are leading the
investigation and they’ve asked us to consult. Police
Chief Caulfield wants a preliminary criminal personality
Dan turned back to his computer, effectively dismissing
her. “If you need help, ask Greg to go with you.”
Evelyn hid her annoyance. A year ago, Greg Ibsen had
initiated her into the world of behavioral analysis. But
she wasn’t a rookie anymore. She didn’t need anyone
checking her work simply because she was the youngest
agent in the office, the one with the least field
experience. She’d earned her spot at BAU. And she worked
her ass off every day to prove it.
“Is there anything else?”
“Just get to work. Bakersville’s never seen anything like
this. They’re not equipped to handle this killer.”
She nodded and stood. “I’m on it.” As she left his
office, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the
partition near the coffeepot serving as a bulletin board
for anything the agents found of interest. Next to an
article on a new brain-mapping technique and a list of
the Most Wanted, someone had thumb-tacked a sheet with
the heading Predator Still at Large. Underneath was a
computer-generated sketch of Dan.
The spot-on sketch had everything from the dome-shaped
head that was only bald on top to the thin, pinched lips,
but Dan hadn’t yet figured out who it was. Evelyn wasn’t
going to be the one to enlighten him.
As soon as she was ensconced in her cubicle again, she
quickly skimmed through the meager file in her email,
then grabbed her briefcase. When she turned around, she
almost slammed into Greg.
He yanked his mug out of her way, sloshing coffee onto
She grimaced. “Sorry, Greg.”
He shrugged, setting his coffee down as he slipped out of
his suit coat to reveal his standard dress shirt and some
cartoon-character tie. “No worries. I’ll spill it on
myself later, anyway.”
Greg Ibsen had been at BAU seven years longer than she
had, logging thousands more hours profiling complicated
cases. Somehow, he was still the most easygoing guy in
the office?even after he’d gotten stuck training the
newbie Dan didn’t want.
Dropping into his chair, he said, “One of these days
maybe you could sleep in a little. Stop making everyone
else look lazy.” The smile in his tone told her he was at
least partly kidding.
Evelyn fiddled with the thin gold band topped with a
small diamond?once her grandma’s—that she never took off.
If her grandma realized how much time she spent working,
she would’ve told her the same thing Greg often did: to
get a hobby.
But her grandma would have understood why she didn’t.
She’d been the one to pull Evelyn’s life back together
when her best friend, Cassie Byers, had been abducted.
She was the only one who truly understood Evelyn’s drive
to find her, even seventeen years later.
Pushing back memories of the woman who’d raised her and
now needed extensive care herself, she peered at Greg
around their shared cubicle wall. Unlike her blank one,
his was filled with pictures of his wife, Marnie, and
their adopted children, Lucy and Josh. “Dan just gave me
a new case. I’m heading out the door.”
“Really? What did you get?”
Greg’s eyebrows reached for each other. “Really? And
you’re going to the site now?”
Serial killers were what the unit was best known for
profiling, but between evaluating terrorist threats and
interpreting the behavior of arsonists, bomb-makers and
child predators, they didn’t always get priority.
“Dan said it was weird.” And considering the cases they
dealt with regularly, that was saying a lot.
“Weird, huh? Tell me about it when you get back.”
“Sure. Dan thinks I should ask for your help, anyway.”
“What? The little lady can’t handle the big, scary serial
killer alone?” Greg joked. “Didn’t you hear that BAU has
a no-women-allowed rule?”
Evelyn wished Dan’s attitude didn’t bother her. “You know
what a rule-breaker I am.”
He snorted, because that was just as much of a joke as
her being unfit to work as a profiler. “Good luck with
“Thanks,” she said. But luck had nothing to do with it.
She’d worked toward this for most of her life and she was
a damn good profiler. Whatever the case, however wily the
criminal, she’d write a profile that would bring him to
Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Heiter
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books
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