Nearly Mine (A Grace Ford FBI Thriller—Book One)

By Molly Black

With a string of unsolved murders up and down the Mississippi River, the FBI assembles a task force, assigning their best Minnesota field agent, Grace Ford, to partner with an agent from their Louisiana office. Despite their culture clash, the two must work together to traverse the country, crack the hardest cases—and to stop the next killer before it’s too late.

When a body turns up hanging from a bridge in Minnesota, Grace realizes it’s the signature of a new serial killer, obsessed with the river, and who will stop at nothing until he claims his next victim—unless she stops him in time.

“Molly Black has written a taut thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat… I absolutely loved this book and can’t wait to read the next book in the series!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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NEARLY MINE is book #1 of a long anticipated new series by critically-acclaimed and #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Molly Black, whose books have received over 2,000 five-star reviews and ratings.

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured FBI agent, the Grace Ford series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future Books in the series are also available.

“I binge read this book. It hooked me in and didn't stop till the last few pages… I look forward to reading more!”
—Reader review for Found You
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“I loved this book! Fast-paced plot, great characters and interesting insights into investigating cold cases. I can't wait to read the next book!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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“Very good book… You will feel like you are right there looking for the kidnapper! I know I will be reading more in this series!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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“This is a very well written book and holds your interest from page 1… Definitely looking forward to reading the next one in the series, and hopefully others as well!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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“Wow, I cannot wait for the next in this series. Starts with a bang and just keeps going.”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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“Well written book with a great plot, one that will keep you up at night. A page turner!”
—Reader review for Girl One: Murder
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“A great suspense that keeps you reading… can't wait for the next in this series!”
—Reader review for Found You
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“Sooo soo good! There are a few unforeseen twists… I binge read this like I binge watch Netflix. It just sucks you in.”
—Reader review for Found You
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Molly Black
• Release date: May 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094378718

Book preview

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N E A R L Y   M I N E

(A Grace Ford FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1)

M o l l y   B l a c k

Molly Black

Bestselling author Molly Black is author of the MAYA GRAY FBI suspense thriller series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the RYLIE WOLF FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books; of the TAYLOR SAGE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising eight books; of the KATIE WINTER FBI suspense thriller series, comprising eleven books (and counting); of the RUBY HUNTER FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); of the CAITLIN DARE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); of the REESE LINK mystery series, comprising five books (and counting); of the CLAIRE KING FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting); and of the GRACE FORD FBI suspense thriller series, comprising five books (and counting).

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Molly loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.mollyblackauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2023 by Molly Black. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright William T Smith used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY MOLLY BLACK

GRACE FORD MYSTERY SERIES

NEARLY MINE (Book #1)

NEARLY SAFE (Book #2)

NEARLY FREE (Book #3)

NEARLY GONE (Book #4)

NEARLY HIS (Book #5)

CLAIRE KING MYSTERY SERIES

ONCE HE SEES (Book #1)

ONCE HE LONGS (Book #2)

ONCE HE TAKES (Book #3)

ONCE HE FEELS (Book #4)

ONCE HE KNOWS (Book #5)

MAYA GRAY MYSTERY SERIES

GIRL ONE: MURDER (Book #1)

GIRL TWO: TAKEN (Book #2)

GIRL THREE: TRAPPED (Book #3)

GIRL FOUR: LURED (Book #4)

GIRL FIVE: BOUND (Book #5)

GIRL SIX: FORSAKEN (Book #6)

GIRL SEVEN: CRAVED (Book #7)

GIRL EIGHT: HUNTED (Book #8)

GIRL NINE: GONE (Book #9)

RYLIE WOLF FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

FOUND YOU (Book #1)

CAUGHT YOU (Book #2)

SEE YOU (Book #3)

WANT YOU (Book #4)

TAKE YOU (Book #5)

DARE YOU (Book #6)

TAYLOR SAGE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

DON’T LOOK (Book #1)

DON’T BREATHE (Book #2)

DON’T RUN (Book #3)

DON’T FLINCH (Book #4)

DON’T REMEMBER (Book #5)

DON’T TELL (Book #6)

KATIE WINTER FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SAVE ME (Book #1)

REACH ME (Book #2)

HIDE ME (Book #3)

BELIEVE ME (Book #4)

HELP ME (Book #5)

FORGET ME (Book #6)

HOLD ME (Book #7)

PROTECT ME (Book #8)

REMEMBER ME (Book #9)

CATCH ME (Book #10)

WATCH ME (Book #11)

RUBY HUNTER FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IF I RUN (Book #1)

IF I TELL (Book #2)

IF I LIVE (Book #3)

IF I FORGET (Book #4)

IF I RETURN (Book #5)

CAITLIN DARE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

COME GET ME (Book #1)

COME FIND ME (Book #2)

COME TAKE ME (Book #3)

COME CATCH ME (Book #4)

COME SAVE ME (Book #5)

REESE LINK MYSTERY

BEYOND REASON (Book #1)

BEYOND REACH (Book #2)

BEYOND REPAIR (Book #3)

BEYOND DOUBT (Book #4)

BEYOND NORMAL (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

PROLOGUE

 An uneasy feeling nudged at Patrick Finney as he peered through the dense morning fog that blanketed the river. The current seemed usually swift as he struggled to control his small fishing boat, rowing the oars with a steady, practiced rhythm. Maybe it wasn’t the river that had changed. Maybe it was him. He just wasn’t as strong as he once had been.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be out on the river at all.

His shoulder muscles groaned, and his chest felt tight. He marveled at how the years had managed to slip by so fast—and how he’d gotten so old so quickly.

He used to love coming out to the Leoma River at dawn, never allowing himself to miss a Sunday morning sunrise. He craved the peaceful hours spent on the water, even in the dead of winter with the frigid Minnesota wind lashing his cheeks. He embraced the icy air. It exhilarated him. Made him feel more alive. The colder the better, he’d tell his boys.

However, the passage of time had not been kind. Now, the frosty air seeped into his bones, causing his joints to ache. And this morning, it seemed that each row of the oars threatened to sap his strength. But he wasn’t ready to succumb to the perils of old age. Not yet.

He angled the boat toward his favorite fishing spot, near the middle of the river, underneath the bridge. As he pumped the oars, he thought about his sons, now grown and gone. And of his wife, who had passed away years before. Patrick remembered the way she’d smile, her face lighting up, on the days when he’d come home with a good catch for their Sunday dinner. And the way disappointment would cloud her eyes on the rare occasions he’d come home empty-handed.

The memories of years past—when the kids were still at home and his wife was well—brought a smile to his lips. He rowed on through the thick blanket of fog, determined to make it out to his spot. Although he ate his meals alone now, he relished the thought of fresh walleye or sauger for dinner. He’d stay out here all day if need be. And if the fish refused to bite, at least he could enjoy the splendor of the river. He knew his days on the water were numbered. That the time would finally come when he could no longer manage to handle the boat.

Through the haze, he spotted the silhouette of the bridge in the distance. Pulling the oars from the water, he allowed the swift-moving current to guide him. When he reached the magic spot—over a rock pile—he dropped his small anchor into the river. He flipped open his tackle box and withdrew his favorite lure. Grub on a jig. As he cast his line into the water, a stiff gust of wind parted the fog. And just for a moment, Patrick could have sworn he’d seen something suspended beneath the center of the bridge.

Something big.

He blinked, and the image was swallowed by the fog. Had it been his imagination? The icy river playing tricks with his vision? He slowly reeled in his line, hoping for a nibble, but at the same time wondering what he could have seen.

With no bite, he stowed his fishing pole in the boat, pulled up his anchor, and once again grabbed the oars. A strange feeling rippled through him. A sensation he’d only felt on one other occasion in his life.

The night his wife had died.

He had to find out what he’d seen. Patrick’s pulse quickened as he rowed toward the center of the bridge. He could see the structure stretching out above the bank of fog. But below the bridge, next to the water, the visibility ended at only a few feet.

Nearing the location where he thought he’d spotted the image, he reversed the motion of the oars, fighting against the current. He squinted into the gloom. He couldn’t make out anything past the end of his fishing boat. The silence broken only by the rushing sounds of the river.

But there was something out there. He knew it in his gut.

He sat rigid. Waiting. Peering at the haze as the current carried him farther beneath the belly of the bridge.

A sudden blast of wind sliced through the fog. And then he saw it, dangling from the bridge.

A rope.

With something large tied to the end. Something he couldn’t quite distinguish.

Although he didn’t understand why, panic ignited in Patrick’s chest. His flight instinct warned him to get to shore—now. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. His hands shook as he lowered the oars toward the water, his eyes struggling to make out what hung at the end of the rope.

As fear danced through Patrick’s heart, his arthritic fingers trembled. And then the unthinkable happened. Something he’d managed to avoid throughout all of his years spent fishing on the winding Leoma River.

The oars slipped from his grasp.

An overwhelming sense of dread surged through Patrick’s veins as the oars disappeared into the gloom. His attention snapped back to the bundle suspended from the end of the rope. The boat was on a collision course, and there was no way to steer to the side.

And then, as the current picked up steam, the bundle came into focus. He could see it clearly now. Realized what it was.

Patrick’s heart pounded in his chest. There was no way to escape the horror of what was about to happen. He was helpless. Unable to stop the impact.

The body of a man dangled from the end of the rope.

As Patrick stared into the cold, dead eyes, the corpse slammed against him.

And Patrick heard himself scream.

CHAPTER ONE

Flanked by the other members of her team, FBI Special Agent Grace Ford sprinted across the field covered in a layer of ice, topped by six inches of fresh snow. At least twenty yards ahead, the figure of the man in the blue parka bobbed in the distance as he ran toward the forest.

Samuel Gibbons.

The sadistic Minnesota serial killer had claimed the lives of fourteen young women.

With the help of a female guard that he’d romanced while behind bars, Gibbons had escaped from prison. And if the FBI team failed to catch him, it was certain the killer would add to his list of victims.

An avid outdoorsman, Gibbons had trained himself in the art of wilderness survival. If he got away—if he was allowed to flee into the woods—he could disappear. Years could pass before law enforcement managed to catch him again. And an untold number of lives would be at stake.

Grace didn’t want that on her conscious. Whatever it took, she was determined to stop Gibbons.

To her right, her partner, Special Agent Dale Allen, grunted as he slipped on the ice and fell flat on his face.

Worried, Grace stopped short. Are you okay?

Dale attempted a smile. You know me—tough as nails. Now, get going.

Realizing Dale’s pride was likely hurt worse than his body, Grace obeyed. She continued onward. The soles of her own boots struggled to maintain traction as she refocused her attention on Gibbons.

The killer was quick on his feet, his stride long and powerful. He sped through the snow as though it was a meadow of white, summer flowers.

With her leg muscles burning, Grace pushed herself harder. She refused to let Gibbons gain any more ground. Despite his apparent advantages—his agility on the icy terrain and his near superhuman immunity to the sub-freezing temperature—she was determined to catch him before he made it into the trees.

Considering all of the suffering Gibbons had caused and all of the innocent lives he’d taken without an ounce of remorse, Grace wished she could just draw her Glock and empty the magazine into the killer’s center mass. But an agent couldn’t fire at a fleeing suspect—one who posed no immediate threat. The team would have to chase Gibbons down. If the man pulled a weapon, then they’d be free to shoot.

Another agent—William Harper—crashed to the ground on her right. Grace realized she was now at the head of the pack. The only person who stood a chance of stopping Gibbons before he reached the forest.

The cold air cut like blades inside her lungs, but somehow Grace kept going. Her breath streamed out in front of her in frosty puffs as she fought to keep her balance while increasing her pace. Every step felt like a battle as she kept her gaze glued on Gibbons. But with each laborious stride, the distance between them began to narrow.

The killer must have sensed her drawing closer. He glanced back over his shoulder, the dark eyes beneath his hooded parka piercing into Grace’s own. She could feel the man’s desperation—his fear that he might not make it out of this alive—as surely as she felt her own determination to capture him.

Drawing on a surge of energy from deep within her core, Grace shot forward. Only a few yards now separated her from Gibbons. The killer glanced back again, and this time, she saw him swing his arm.

A rock flew straight toward Grace’s head.

She ducked, her boots sliding on the ice. She stretched out her arms in a frantic attempt to stop her fall, but it was no use. Her body hit the ground with a loud thud.

Her left hip ached as Grace forced herself back onto her feet. The fall had cost her precious time, and she couldn’t afford to waste a second more.

Ahead, Gibbons disappeared into the tree line.

Ignoring the pain that radiated down her thigh, Grace tucked back a strand of dark brown hair that had escaped the confines of her trapper-style hat and raced toward the forest. As she flew past a quaking aspen, she spotted a patch of blue between the bare branches of the hardwoods. Gibbons’s parka.

With a jerk, the killer shifted course, running in a southerly direction. Grace realized he was now heading straight toward old man Dawson’s property. And Dawson’s pond was bordered on two sides by cattle fences topped with barbed wire. The only avenue of escape would be to cross the pond.

The layer of ice covering the water was thick—usually thick enough to walk across. But there was a weak spot. The area above the outlet of the underground spring that fed the pond. Invisible to the eye in winter, especially with the recent snowfall, Gibbons wouldn’t be able to detect the hazard of thinning ice.

If Grace could somehow maneuver Gibbons toward the spring, he’d be sure to fall in.

A plan forming in her mind, Grace ran faster. She pushed her body to its limits, eating up the ground between them. With Gibbons approaching the edge of the pond, she was only a few yards behind him.

But as his feet touched the thick sheet of ice, the killer swerved to the left, away from the spring.

No! Not that way!

Grace had to act fast. Had to steer him toward the weak spot. Skidding to a halt, she spied a baseball-sized rock jutting out of the snow. She grabbed the rock and hurled it toward Gibbons.

The killer recoiled in surprise as the rock sailed past his left ear.

And then he did exactly what Grace wanted him to do. What she needed him to do.

Gibbons cut back toward the right. Toward the hidden