The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter five

Chapter Five

Nolan was the first one to work that morning. He liked to be punctual and running late made him feel rushed. On the days he wasn't on time, he felt like nothing could go right. Even after stopping for coffee, he clocked in five minutes before he was due.

He sat down at his desk and began to read his emails. The FBI was big on digital correspondence, and there was no excuse for not keeping up with communication. Today, there was nothing noteworthy. Admittedly, he was disappointed. He wanted something to break open the case and they had jack squat.

"Hey, Foster," Dre called out. "Wassup?"

"Not much," Nolan replied.

"Did you and KC figure anything out yesterday?" asked Dre.

Nolan shook his head. "No. We eventually had to call it quits. Until new evidence comes in, we're screwed."

He wasn't looking at Dre, so he didn't notice when the other man lifted his eyebrows suggestively. "At least you got some time with just the two of you."

"What?"

"Come on, new guy. I see the way you look at her."

Nolan couldn't help the blush that started to flood his cheeks. "We're f-friends," he stammered out.

Dre chuckled. "Sure you are. Let me know when you finally get the guts to ask her out."

"Ask who out?" Kaytee cut in. She had just entered the room and was walking over to meet them, her high-heeled shoes tapping against the tile floor.

"My neighbor," Nolan blurted. "Yeah, she lives next door."

Dre smirked but said nothing.

"Got it," Kaytee said slowly. "Well, I hate to break up the bro to bro advice thing, but Price called me. He and Darren are en route to the Dallas PD as we speak."

All traces of amusement disappeared from Dre's face. "The PD? Do we have a lead?"

"We do," she answered. "A woman came in today with a bloody dress. They're running DNA tests now, but there's a reason to believe it belongs to George Naples."

"Christ," Nolan hissed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I also got the coroner's report," Kaytee went on.

She set a copy of the file on Nolan's desk first. He read it over before passing it to Dre.

"These wounds look consistent with someone who's barely over five feet tall," Nolan pointed out.

Dre scratched his head. "Maybe we're looking at a short man."

"Or a woman," Kaytee chimed in. "I think it's safe to say this investigation isn't quite what we thought at all."

"This level of overkill isn't consistent with that of a woman, though," Nolan argued. "It looks like the work of a sexual sadist. The brutality is usually part of a fantasy."

"Maybe it's some type of revenge," Dre suggested. "Let's run with the female killer theory for a second. Something happened to make her hate men and hate 'em something fierce by the looks of it. This seems personal, and I think it's time we open up to the idea of suspects across the board. No one can be left out at this point."

"God, I've never seen anything like this before," Kaytee said. "I've been around for a while and this is definitely a unique MO. Most killers are men. I was so sure it had to be a man."

"Just because it's rare doesn't mean it's impossible," Nolan said quietly.

Nolan was well-read. He'd done his research before he even joined the FBI, and while he trained to be a part of this unit, he studied hard to make sure he wasn't going in blind. He knew about serial killers of all kinds, but each one of them was so distinct, so intricate that they couldn't be pinned down to one stereotype.