Killer Instinct

Killer Instinct Plot Summary

Introduction

The smell of death clung to the FBI field office like a second skin. A forensic team had brought in the latest victim, laid out on cold steel, waiting for answers. Cassie Hobbes stood in the shadows, running her fingers through her auburn hair, watching as Agent Sterling meticulously examined the body. At seventeen, Cassie shouldn't have been anywhere near a murder investigation, but her gift for profiling made her invaluable to the Naturals program—a secretive FBI initiative recruiting teenagers with extraordinary abilities to solve cold cases. But this was no cold case. Someone was recreating the murders of notorious serial killer Daniel Redding with terrifying precision: binding, branding, cutting, and hanging victims in a signature style that made Dean Redding—the killer's son and Cassie's fellow Natural—physically ill. As a new FBI agent with a mysterious connection to the Redding case arrives to oversee the program, the five teenage prodigies find themselves pulled into an active investigation that hits too close to home. Cassie and Dean's growing connection is tested as they race to identify which of Redding's apprentices is carrying on his legacy, before the body count rises higher and the killer turns his attention toward the Naturals themselves.

Chapter 1: The Arrival of Agent Sterling: New Rules and Old Wounds

The summer night hummed with music as Cassie celebrated with her fellow Naturals on the lawn behind their Victorian-style house. They'd just closed a missing child case—little Mackenzie McBride was alive and safe because of them. Dean Redding, the tall, brooding profiler with haunted brown eyes, was actually smiling. Even Lia, their resident lie detector with her glossy black hair and permanent smirk, seemed genuinely pleased. Michael Townsend moved to the beat with surprising grace despite the recent bullet wounds in his chest and leg—souvenirs from their last case. The emotion reader's hazel eyes glinted with mischief as he twirled Cassie around. Beside them, Sloane, their statistics genius with white-blonde hair, executed an awkward series of dance moves that looked more like controlled seizures. "Anyone ever tell you that you have a sadistic streak?" Michael teased Cassie as they playfully argued about what threats would be most effective against each other. The celebration ended abruptly when a woman in a gray suit appeared in their midst. Special Agent Veronica Sterling stood rigid, her brown hair pulled into a tight French knot, gray eyes assessing them with clinical precision. "You," she said, eyes falling on Cassie. "Out of the car." The Naturals froze. Agent Sterling was Director Sterling's daughter, sent to evaluate their program after the disaster with Agent Locke—their former mentor turned serial killer. "I'm afraid I'll have to confiscate this," Sterling said later that night, plucking the cards from their poker game. Her gaze settled on Dean, lingering just a moment too long before shifting away. "If you don't mind me asking, what type of person were you before joining this program?" The question hung in the air like poison. Dean's jaw tightened. "The type who learned early that the world is full of monsters wearing human faces." As the days passed, Sterling imposed new rules: practice GEDs, restricted basement access, no case involvement. The tension in the house grew palpable. Cassie caught glimpses of something beneath Sterling's icy exterior—a woman holding herself together through sheer force of will. A woman hiding from something. Then came the news that shattered their fragile peace. A girl had been murdered at Colonial University. When footage of the crime scene leaked online, Dean went deathly still, his face draining of color. "Bind them. Brand them. Cut them. Hang them," he whispered, the words scraping from his throat. Cassie recognized the devastation in his eyes. These weren't random words. This was a killer's signature—Dean's father's signature.

Chapter 2: The Copycat's First Strike: Echoes of Daniel Redding

The library was silent save for the soft rustling of pages as Cassie pulled interview binder twelve from the shelf. Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it to interview twenty-eight—Daniel Redding's prison confession. The words chilled her to the bone. "It's not who they are, it's what they are," Redding had told the interviewer. "They're mine." She slammed the binder shut when Lia appeared in the doorway, dark eyes flashing with anger. "You think it's weird?" Lia spat. "Six weeks ago, Locke was reenacting your mother's murder, and now someone's playing copycat to Dean's dad? This isn't about you, Cassie. You have no idea what this is doing to Dean. None." The next day, Director Sterling summoned them to the living room. The television played footage of the crime scene—a young blonde woman displayed on the hood of a car outside the university president's house, bound and branded with an 'R,' her body hanging from a crude noose. "Emerson Cole," Agent Briggs said, his voice tight. "Twenty years old. English major. Found strangled with her car antenna." Agent Sterling delivered her profile with clinical precision: "Our UNSUB is male, twenty-three to twenty-eight, above-average intelligence but not necessarily educated. Father absent during adolescence. Comfortable with firearms. Drives a dark-colored truck or SUV." Dean sat at the edge of the fireplace, his body rigid, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. His father's methodical brutality was being replicated in exacting detail, and the FBI was treating him like a suspect rather than a victim. That night, Lia appeared at Cassie's door in leather pants and a backless top, tossing a sparkly green dress at her. "Put this on," she ordered. "You can't go to a Colonial University frat party dressed in your pajamas." "This is a bad idea," Cassie protested. "The FBI botches this case, how okay do you think Dean will be?" Lia challenged. "Tell me you're one hundred percent certain we won't pick up on something they miss." Hours later, they slipped through the crush of bodies at the party. Michael played sympathetic ear to traumatized coeds while Cassie followed a lead with Geoffrey, the professor's teaching assistant who seemed unsettlingly fascinated with the Redding case. Meanwhile, Lia cornered two of Emerson's classmates—pompous Derek and painfully shy Clark—on a rooftop. "Emerson was involved with Professor Fogle," Derek revealed, his voice dripping with contempt. "That kind of thing could get a guy fired." "She wasn't like that," Clark objected, his round face flushing crimson, small eyes darting nervously. On the drive home, they pieced together what they'd learned. The professor taught a class on serial killers. Emerson had been sleeping with him. Clark had been obsessed with her. "What if Professor Fogle is our guy?" Cassie wondered aloud. "The entire time Clark was talking about Emerson, Michael sensed longing, fear of rejection... and rage." They returned to find Dean waiting for them, fury etched into every line of his face. "Do you all have a death wish?" he demanded when they confessed where they'd been. Cassie reached for his hand. "We all wanted to help you." Dean recoiled as if burned.

Chapter 3: Confronting the Past: Dean's Prison Visit and Hidden Truths

The glass wall of the observation room felt cold against Cassie's palm as she watched Dean sit across from his father. Daniel Redding was smaller than she'd expected, unremarkable except for the predatory intelligence glittering in eyes identical to his son's. "You look like your mother," Redding said, drinking in Dean's features. "Except for the eyes—those are mine." Dean stared at a spot just over his father's shoulder. "You wanted me here. I'm here. Now talk." "I want to know about you, Dean. What have those hands been doing the past five years? What sights have those eyes seen?" The tension built with each exchange until Redding finally mentioned the professor's cabin in the Catoctin mountains. As Dean stood to leave, Redding delivered his parting shot. "Have you ever told Briggs precisely what you did to his wife, Dean? Or does he still think it was me who drew the knife slowly down her shoulders and thighs, me who sank the brand into her flesh?" In the observation room, Cassie's breath caught. Beside her, Agent Sterling stood rigid, her face impassive. Later, in the car, Cassie noticed Sterling's shirt had shifted, revealing a scar below her collarbone—a brand in the shape of an 'R'. "My team was investigating the case," Sterling said, catching Cassie's stare. "I got a little too close, and I got sloppy. Redding had me for two days before I escaped." "That's how you know Dean," Cassie realized. "I'm not a victim," Sterling corrected. "I'm a survivor, and Dean is the reason that I survived." The revelation shifted something in Cassie's understanding. Sterling wasn't just another FBI agent. She carried the physical and psychological scars of Daniel Redding's brutality—and somehow, Dean had been involved in her escape. That night, unable to sleep, Cassie climbed onto the roof with Lia. They overheard Director Sterling and his daughter arguing below. "I told my father that I trusted you," Sterling told Dean the next day. "From this point on, you're not alone. If you're not with Michael, you're with someone else." Michael and Dean exchanged glances of mutual distaste. "You two are bunking together," Sterling continued. "Now that you've flung yourself onto the local PD's radar, if and when our UNSUB strikes again, you might need an alibi." She dismissed the boys but held Cassie back. Without warning, she knelt and snapped a tracking anklet around Cassie's leg. "I made you a promise," Sterling said. "And I always keep my promises."

Chapter 4: The Apprentice Theory: When One Killer Becomes Many

Professor George Fogle's body was discovered in his cabin exactly where Daniel Redding had said it would be. The FBI's theory that the professor was the killer collapsed, leaving them without a suspect. Meanwhile, Cassie and the other Naturals combed through social media profiles of students in Fogle's class, looking for red flags. "I know you want to help," Briggs told them. "Dean went through hell because I asked him to. But unlike you, I'm not playing games here." During a meeting with his father, Dean learned the truth: Daniel Redding had been receiving letters from a student in Fogle's class, someone showing "remarkable attention to detail." "I think my father has a partner," Dean told the team later, his voice tight with strain. "Not a partner," Cassie corrected. "Men like Daniel Redding don't have partners. They don't think they have equals. The person we're looking for isn't a partner—it's an apprentice." Sloane checked class records. "Emerson Cole was in the middle of her exam when she was killed. So was every student in that class." "What if we're dealing with two UNSUBs?" Sterling theorized. "When a crime scene has the hallmarks of both organized and disorganized killers, you're either dealing with an inexperienced UNSUB refining his technique—or two UNSUBs." Briggs's phone rang. Trina Simms—a woman obsessed with Daniel Redding—had been found murdered in Broken Springs. When Briggs showed them what he'd found in her pocket, Dean went pale. "Contents of Trina Simms's pockets," Briggs said, tossing a clear plastic bag onto the table. Inside was a single playing card—the king of spades. "I wanted to be wrong," Dean whispered. When forensics discovered DNA under Trina's fingernails, they had their first solid lead. But before they could identify a suspect, Clark—the shy student from Emerson's class—was found murdered in his dorm room. "Clark's DNA matches the sample found under Trina Simms's fingernails," Briggs announced. Cassie's mind raced, piecing together the puzzle. "Redding had the UNSUBs choose victims for each other. Clark chose Emerson, but someone else killed her. It's Strangers on a Train." "That way," Briggs said, "each killer has an alibi when their target dies." Like Christopher Simms, Trina's awkward, rage-filled son, who had been with Briggs when his mother was killed. Cassie woke in the middle of the night, troubled by a nagging thought. She found Agent Sterling still awake in the study. "What if Christopher wasn't the one communicating with this girl online? What if he didn't choose her?" Sterling's phone rang. Christopher Simms had been found dead in his cell. He'd hung himself—or at least, that's what the prison claimed. "I think there might be a third apprentice," Cassie said. Sterling grabbed her car keys. "If there's even a sliver of a chance that this case isn't over, I'm working it." As they stood in the driveway, a figure emerged from the shadows. Cassie felt an arm lock around her throat, cutting off her air. A gun pressed against her temple. "Put your gun on the ground. Now," a voice ordered Sterling. "Take me," Sterling said, her voice steady despite her trembling hands. "That's what you came here for. I'm the one who got away from Redding." The last thing Cassie saw before darkness claimed her was the face of her attacker—Anthony Webber, the prison guard who'd escorted them to the observation room.

Chapter 5: Captivity and Choice: Cassie's Final Test and Resolution

Pain throbbed through Cassie's skull as consciousness returned. Her right eye was swollen shut, her wrists bound behind her with zip ties. Across from her, Agent Sterling was similarly restrained, blood crusted on her temple. "You're awake," Sterling said, relief evident in her voice despite her attempt to hide it. They were in an abandoned cabin deep in the woods. Webber had knocked them unconscious and brought them here to recreate his mentor's signature kills. "Briggs will find us," Cassie said, nodding toward her ankle. "The minute I left the property, he got a text message." Sterling's face crumpled. "I never activated the tracker. I thought wearing it was deterrent enough." The revelation hung in the air between them. No one was coming. No one knew where they were. "When he gets back here, I'm going to distract him, and you're going to run," Sterling insisted. Before Cassie could argue, the cabin door creaked open. Webber entered carrying a hunting rifle. "I'm going to untie you," he said, smiling cruelly. "You're going to run. I'll even give you a two-minute head start." "Me," Sterling volunteered. "You," Webber said, grabbing Cassie's elbow. "You're first. I hope you can run." He cut her bindings and pushed her outside. "Two minutes. Starting now." Cassie ran as hard as she could, reaching the dense trees within seconds. Her mind raced as her lungs burned. Running wasn't enough—she needed a plan. Against every instinct, she backtracked, creating a false trail before climbing high into a tree along a different path. When Webber appeared below, tracking her footprints, she clutched a large rock in her trembling hand. Please don't see me, she prayed silently. His eyes were on the ground until the moment her tracks disappeared. As he looked up, she hurled the rock with all her strength. It struck him above the eye, sending him staggering. But he didn't stay down. As he raised the rifle toward her perch, Cassie did the only thing left to do. She jumped. The gun fired. The shot went wide. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. For three desperate seconds, they wrestled before he pinned her down, pressing his foot into her chest. He brought the rifle to his shoulder, aiming at her forehead. "Take them. Free them. Track them. Kill—" A gunshot cracked through the forest. Webber collapsed. "Cassie. Cassie." A familiar voice called to her. She opened her eyes to see Agent Briggs standing over her, gun still drawn. "Webber's dead." "How did you—" "Your ankle tracker," Briggs explained. "Sterling hadn't activated it, but since she was on a playing-by-the-rules kick when she checked it out, she filled out all the paperwork. We had the serial number and were able to activate it remotely." "Cassie." Dean broke through the brush, his face etched with worry. "What are you doing here?" she asked. His hands went to her face, gently cradling it. "Activating the tracker was Sloane's idea. Everyone else forgot about it. Briggs was at our place when we got the coordinates." Dean pulled her gently toward him. "I was wrong when I said I just felt something. When I said I wasn't sure it was enough." His lips brushed lightly over hers. The action was hesitant, uncertain. Cassie's hands settled on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. She rose up on her toes, her body pressed against his, and returned the kiss, the pain in her face fading, washed away with the rest of the world, until there was only this moment—one that she hadn't thought she'd live to see.

Chapter 6: The Rules Change: A New Beginning for the Naturals Program

The day the last of Cassie's bruises disappeared was the day Agent Sterling moved back into the house. They returned from taking their GEDs to find movers carrying Briggs's possessions out of his study. Sterling had changed. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, she wore jeans, and most strikingly, she'd placed a framed photograph on her nightstand—two little girls, one dark-haired, one light, both beaming at the camera. "I'm not going anywhere," she told Judd. The doorbell rang. Briggs arrived first, followed by Director Sterling and a third man—the director of National Intelligence. "Until last week, I had no idea this program existed," the man said, his expression unreadable. Cassie held her breath. Agent Sterling was moving in, but that didn't mean the program was safe. The man at the head of National Intelligence could still pull the plug. "Agent Sterling seems to believe that this program saves lives—and that if you were allowed to participate in active investigations, you could save many more," he continued. "She also believes that you can't be trusted to watch out for yourselves." He turned to Director Sterling. "They stay behind the scenes. Those are the rules. Agents Sterling and Briggs will supervise their participation on all cases, subject to the approval of Major Hawkins. When it comes to what does and does not fall within the purview of this program, his word is final—even for you." The director stiffened but didn't hesitate in his reply. "Agreed." After the director of National Intelligence left, Michael broke the silence. "What just happened here?" "The Naturals program just got some oversight," Agent Sterling replied. "There are going to be some new regulations. New protocols. And they'll mean something." Her expression softened as she looked at Cassie. "We're going to need those regulations, because as of tomorrow, the five of you are cleared to consult on active cases." They weren't shutting them out. They were letting them in. Outside, Cassie found Michael taking a sledgehammer to the windows of his junkyard car. He looked up and caught sight of her. "That's it, then?" he asked, his voice tight. She didn't answer. Her eyes darted toward the porch, toward Dean. Michael gave her a careless smile. "You win some, you lose some." Cassie turned away, walking toward the house, toward Dean. Michael's voice called after her. "Cassie?" She looked back over her shoulder. "If it had been me in the woods, if I'd been the one to go with Briggs, if I'd been the one you saw at the exact second..." Would it have been me? The unfinished question hung in the air. Cassie didn't answer, couldn't answer. As she turned back toward the house, Michael went back to knocking the windows out of that broken, battered car. "Yeah," he said, his voice carrying on the wind. "That's what I thought."

Summary

The shadow of Daniel Redding stretched far beyond prison walls, reaching through letters and whispered instructions to mold apprentices in his image. Three young men—each broken in their own way—became his instruments of vengeance, murdering those who represented what they could never have: normalcy, connection, love. But the master's true target had always been his son, Dean, the one who got away, the only person Daniel Redding had ever considered worthy of his twisted legacy. For Cassie Hobbes and the other Naturals, the case became more than another puzzle to solve. It forced them to confront their own demons, to make impossible choices, and to recognize that the line between hunter and hunted was thinner than they'd ever imagined. As Agent Sterling took her place in their unorthodox family, implementing new rules that would protect rather than restrict them, the Naturals faced their future with clear eyes. The monsters would always be there, hiding in plain sight, wearing human faces. But now they had permission to hunt them together, in the light rather than the shadows—not as child prodigies playing at being agents, but as essential members of a team that understood what it truly meant to save lives, even when it meant risking their own.

About Author

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Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Barnes explores the intricate relationships between cognitive science and storytelling, weaving her academic background into the fabric of her narratives. Her unique journey from Tulsa, Oklahoma, through the vibrant halls of Yale University, culminated in a degree in cognitive science. This educational foundation profoundly influences her writing, allowing her to delve into themes of perception and thought. Her debut book, "Golden," penned at the age of nineteen, reflects this confluence of science and creativity, capturing readers' imaginations with its innovative approach.\n\nIn her work, Barnes synthesizes her diverse experiences, from being a competitive cheerleader and a volleyball player to conducting autism research at the University of Cambridge. These varied roles inform her thematic focus, allowing her to examine complex characters and dynamic plots. Her method involves infusing personal interests, such as primate cognition and comic books, into her narratives, creating layers that resonate with a broad audience. This approach not only captivates readers but also provides insights into the human psyche, making her books compelling and thought-provoking.\n\nReaders benefit from Barnes's rich tapestry of ideas, which bridges the gap between cognitive exploration and engaging storytelling. Her works appeal to those interested in psychological depth and narrative innovation, offering a fresh perspective on familiar themes. As an author, her bio reflects a commitment to exploring the nuances of human experience through a scientific lens, inviting readers to consider the interplay between mind and narrative.

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