The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Saturday morning.

Unless there was a new development in the investigation, the team would be given a weekend to recuperate. Sometimes, Nolan was called in. The erratic hours and long workdays weren't unheard of in the FBI. Weekends, especially full ones left undisturbed, were rare.

So far, all signs pointed to leisure.

Nolan slept in, and his ringer didn't go off once during the night. He climbed out of bed just after eleven o'clock, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled to the shower. Instead of going out for coffee, he brewed it on his own and camped out on the couch in a t-shirt and sweats. It was a calm, uneventful morning.

He flicked through his latest read, letting the words run through him. It was a true crime book, one narrating the lives and stories of some of the worst serial killers. He wanted to learn the ins and outs of human behavior so he could commit the information to memory. It was his job to be better, to be the most effective version of himself he could. The research would help. He was sure of it.

A knock interrupted his chapter. He rose from the couch and opened the door curiously.

Kaytee was standing on his doorstep in a tank-top and jeans. It was the most casual he'd ever seen her, but he knew she wasn't here because she wanted to hang out. There was a purpose in her eyes, and her chin was jutting out the way it did when she had something important to say.

"Hi," he said, surprised.

"Hey," she greeted him. "Are you gonna let me in, or what?"

She scanned his apartment, taking in the cluttered bookshelves and empty mugs littering his furniture. He felt strange, having someone from work in his space, taking in everything there was to learn about him when he was off-duty.

"You look weird," she told him.

"W-What?" he stammered.

"I've never really seen you without a tie and stuff," she said. "You look weird."

She leaned against the wall, refocusing on his face. Her hair was falling loose from a ponytail, which meant she was working before she came here.

"How did you get my address?" he asked.

"It's all in the database," she replied. "That probably sounds creepy, but I needed to tell you what I found."

He folded the page of his book over to mark his place and stared ahead expectantly. "Do you ever take a break?"

"I'm Kaytee Carlisle," she said, grinning. "A break isn't my style."

She was right. Out of everyone he knew working at the Dallas Field Office, she was the most devoted. It drove him crazy, knowing she never turned herself off, but it was also something he liked most about her.

"So what did you find, genius girl?" he questioned, leaning back against the couch.

"Dennis Laughlin was released from jail a year ago," she started.

His jaw went slack. "What?"

"He was let out on good behavior. The authorities kept it quiet and relocated him to another state to keep him away from the Robinsons. He's been living as Dan Poindexter in Alabama for the past year and a half," she finished.

"Shit," Nolan swore.

"I know," Kaytee said. "It took a lot of digging. They did their best to seal it up. My guess is, they were afraid something might happen if the public knew he was released. The story was big when it broke, even if it was years ago. It's not the kind of thing people forget, you know?"