The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Shortly before seven am, the unit gathered in the conference room. Dre had taken it upon himself to fill an entire coffee pot and began to pass it around before the briefing even started. Nolan was the second person Price called. While he and Dre checked out the scene, Price had organized the rest of the team there. Darren was half-asleep, in the early stages of a hangover, and Kaytee had already taken a couple of Aspirin capsules for her headache in the short time she'd been in the office.

"We're here because a few hours ago, Quinton Robinson was found dead in his living room. His eyes had been carved out, he'd been stabbed multiple times, and it appears that our killer has decided to strike again," Price explained.

The unit chief flicked through some of the newer photos and added them to the corkboard, amid the clutter of the original prints. As the case was constructed, the mess grew. It was a process Nolan couldn't wait to see end. There was nothing more satisfying than bringing things to a close and starting anew.

It didn't seem like they were anywhere close to that. It made him miserable.

They were all looking at the body. The fresh kill. There were new details to memorize, new facts to study. For those who didn't visit the scene firsthand, this was their first exposure to the violence. Nolan had been there, and he still felt like it was surreal.

Nolan had seen Quinton alive. He knew him. Maybe not well, but at least distantly. Now, he was another body added to the serial killer's list and he didn't know what to make of it. Quinton had been there, and then he was gone. It was so quick, so sudden and final.

"It's my belief the subject deliberately left his genitals unmarred. This choice is inconsistent with her previous homicides, and it leaves an important question for us to analyze," Price went on, drawing them back to the discussion. "Why?"

"I hate to break it to you, but it's going to be hard for us to figure that out if we haven't spoken to the victim's family," Darren observed. "You said Lexi was unresponsive. Right, Foster?"

"Yes," Nolan said, wondering what point Darren was leading up to.

"How do we know that wasn't out of guilt?" Darren prodded. "I mean, come on. The girl came here looking suspicious from day one. We let her out on a whim and now—"

"It wasn't a whim," Kaytee interrupted. "There was substantial evidence to suggest she was innocent."

"And now her brother's dead. How is that a coincidence?" Darren argued.

Nolan's jaw went tight. "I know how it looks, but we haven't even checked her alibi out yet."

"Nolan's right," Dre jumped in. "I was there too, Darren. I saw these reactions for myself, and no one in that house could have killed that boy. It would be pretty damn hard to fake that sort of distress."

Darren nodded, considering that notion. "We've seen a few sociopaths before, Dre. They're good at hiding in plain sight, but they're also not terribly common. We'll have to see how they hold up later on. I want to believe you two are right."

The acknowledgment took some tension off Nolan. At least this way, they weren't turning against Lexi again. Nolan needed the reassurance. He felt responsible for her somehow. It was like he owed her a debt and needed to find the answers.

"We need to know about Quinton's dating history," Kaytee said, switching gears.

"Good point, Carlisle. What kind of reputation did he have? Who might have been angry with him? The more victims this woman wracks up, the more we can use to connect them," Price said, scanning the display with photos and notes tacked onto it.