chapter twenty

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Chapter Twenty

"Delaney Robinson was on a business trip the night Quinton Robinson was murdered," Dre informed the unit. He had called them into the conference room, ready to share information as they ate lunch from a fast-food restaurant a few miles away.

Technically, they were due for a proper break. Oftentimes, meals were eaten in the office. Breaks were rare, and rest and relaxation weren't about to happen when they were smack in the middle of a busy day. Everything moved at full speed. Always.

So, Kaytee ordered food online and had an intern bring it up when it was delivered. They unpacked greasy paper bags around the round table, digging into cheap burgers and fries as they multitasked. There wasn't time to waste, and no one had any intention of breaking from the job at hand.

Darren, who was chewing on his straw, paused to cut in. "Can we verify that?"

Kaytee shook her head. "According to her credit card records, her flight must have been delayed, because she checked into a local motel and got a rental car from a vendor in Dallas."

"So she was never in Georgia, to begin with?" Nolan asked, his eyebrows knitting.

"I don't think so," Price said as he entered the room. "I just got off the phone with her employer. She's been a no show. She won't answer any messages, and she's completely AWOL."

Nolan sighed, looking at a map of Texas displayed on the wall. "She could be anywhere now. I don't understand why she would leave a paper trail like that. For a killer this organized, it doesn't fit the MO. It's too clumsy."

"Maybe she got comfortable?" Kaytee joined in. "I mean, it's not impossible. She might have thought we were off her case."

"We've profiled narcissism. The overconfidence could be her hamartia," said Nolan.

"Hamartia? Speak English, Foster," Dre joked.

"Fatal flaw," Nolan translated without hesitation. "The press made her grow in confidence and the attention fed her ego. We created a monster."

When Nolan saw the expression on Dre's face, he realized the other man was mostly joking. It was embarrassing, but the team moved on fast enough to forget it. He had a tendency to delve into explanations, even when it was unwarranted. He couldn't help himself.

"We might have made a trap," Darren argued. "That's a good thing."

Human behavior was never consistent or easy to track. It made Nolan wary, skeptical of every action Delaney had taken. It felt off, but that was probably because he was tired. At least, that's what he believed.

"Carlisle, have you gotten in touch with a technical analyst? Have we been able to track her phone?" Price inquired.

Kaytee flipped through a few pieces of paper, sliding them across the dark wood. "Her last call was shortly before her flight was supposed to take off. As far as I can tell, she turned off her phone. Hasn't bounced off a cell tower since."

Inconsistencies lined themselves up in Nolan's head. Delaney left a paper trail but had an inactive cell phone. She turned off the service, cleared her tracks. If she knew she had to disappear, why would she make her whereabouts so obvious?

Sometimes, cases were as simple as they appeared. No one was perfect, and with an increasing body count, there was a greater margin for error. Delaney slipped. It happens. In a state of panic or a state of overconfidence, she could easily leave something unaccounted for.

Or, this was too convenient.

Nolan wasn't sure. He wasn't sure how to feel, and that drove him crazy. He liked having a firm opinion.

"We need to figure out where the hell she is," Price announced. "End of story. Check social media accounts, get in contact with the Robinsons. Let's figure out where Delaney would go to lay low."

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