The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-One

When they returned to the FBI headquarters, Kaytee and Nolan had next to nothing to report. It was frustrating, admitting defeat to their fellow agents. The most they had was a fleeting diner conversation. Delaney allegedly said she was going back to Dallas to a waitress, but it didn't seem like a lead so much as a lie. Nolan knew they couldn't regard it as valuable intel, even if the girl who reported it swore it was true.

Kaytee slid into one of the chairs in front of Price's desk, crossing her legs nervously.

"You got good news for me, Carlisle?" Price barked at her.

She shook her head. "Not exactly."

"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded gruffly.

"It means San Antonio was a useless mission," Nolan answered.

Price frowned, the lines in his face deepening. "So you both are telling me the Bureau funded a two-day trip for you to come back with nothing to tell me?"

"She told a waitress she was coming back to Dallas," Kaytee said quickly.

"Wow," Price deadpanned. "With that extensive information, I'll be sure to tell them we came to some important conclusions."

Nolan wanted to snap at him, but he knew getting angry with his boss indicated a death wish. Kaytee tapped her nails against her thigh, the noise soft against the material of her skirt. She poked her tongue inside her cheek, obviously growing nervous.

"I guess time will tell if that's true," Price finally said. "It's almost five. You two feel free to go home. There's no point keeping you around if you're good for nothing."

Nolan was eager to leave, especially when Price was looking at the pair of them like he wanted to bite their heads off. He was being a prick, even more so than usual. Nolan assumed higher-ups were getting on him for his unit remaining on an open case for so long.

Kaytee shrugged it off, her face neutral as they climbed into the elevator together.

"How did you take that so well?" he wondered aloud. "I mean, seriously, what's your secret?"

"Patience," she replied. "Price is an asshat quite often, but that doesn't mean it's personal. Besides, he's letting me leave early. I'm gonna crack open a bottle of wine and take the win."

Nolan nodded. "I guess that is a plus."

"Do you have plans?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he lied. His "plans" were to sit on the couch and read, like he normally would on any ordinary night. He didn't want to sound completely dorky, so he didn't admit it.

"Have fun," she told him good-naturedly.

"I will," he said, though he doubted it was true.

On his way back to his small apartment, he picked up a coffee at his usual spot. As he waited in line, he coached himself through his order over and over in his head, hoping to end his stuttering before it began. He was lucky not to trip over his words this time around.

He drove with one hand, a news broadcast playing on the radio. With his free fingers, he held his coffee, sipping it slowly so he wouldn't burn his mouth. He was only faintly aware of his growing addiction. It was also too easy to over-caffeinate as an FBI agent since most everyone had a bloodstream full of the stuff. It kept him going and fueled his mental energy.

He stopped by the mailroom before he headed to his place. It was a trip that was long overdue, judging by the amount of envelopes stuffed into the small slot. He gathered them in a heap and tucked them under his bicep, paying almost no mind to the contents.