The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-Six

"We have a hit on Delaney Robinson."

Everyone on the floor of the violent crimes task force stopped cold. The members of the team stood at attention as Price walked out of his office, his arms crossed, expression cold and calculating.

"Where?" Dre asked.

"San Antonio," Price informed them. "We spotted activity on an older credit card. The account had been dormant for quite some time, but it seems she picked it up again when she skipped town."

Kaytee's head tilted in confusion. "How did we not catch that before now?"

"It's not registered in her name," said Price. "The name on the card is Dennis Laughlin. He's her ex-boyfriend, and he contacted authorities to report fraudulent activity on the account. Needless to say, it got back to us real quick."

"She must have gotten access to his credit card when he got locked up," Nolan concluded. "Think she's still there?"

"According to the paper trail, she's on the move, but if we get in touch with motel staff and some of the other businesses she purchased from, we might be able to figure out her next stop," Price explained. "Carlisle, you and Foster will be going down there and getting information on her whereabouts. I'll get your accommodations squared away. You two have an hour to get your things. Be ready to go."

The way Price spoke indicated finality, but Nolan was left with too many concerns to leave it unresolved.

"F-For how long?" he stuttered out.

"As long as it takes," Price said gruffly, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Kaytee seemed unfazed by the notion of traveling. Nolan couldn't help but watch as she calmly returned to her desk, finalizing the last details on the report she was writing. There was no rush in her movements, which surprised him.

"Do you have a go-bag?" she asked him.

Nolan shook his head. "No, I... Should I?"

"Yeah," she said. "You better get home and pack."

He stopped mid-step. "What's a go-bag?"

When Kaytee looked up, her expression was bright with laughter. "Are you serious?"

His face reddened.

"We each keep a bag in our cars in case we need to leave at a moment's notice. Sometimes we have to travel for work. It's rare, but it happens," she told him. "Get to it, Foster."

He drove home a little faster than normal. He couldn't help but feel hastened since he was on a strict schedule. Price wasn't one to mess around, and he definitely wouldn't appreciate it if Nolan rolled in late.

He didn't know what to pack. It made him feel silly, trying to reduce himself to the confines of a small bag. Nolan wasn't good at picking out clothes, and he didn't want to embarrass himself out in the field.

Why the hell is Price sending me? He wondered. When he caught a glimpse of his reflection, he scoffed at his wrinkled tie, his lanky frame, his sweater. He looked like a librarian, not an FBI agent. As far as he was concerned, he belonged behind the scenes. It was where he liked to be anyway.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like it would be a choice for him. He was constantly being directed by some outside force. It was the nature of his work, even if he didn't care much for it.

He laid out a few of his standard button-ups, grabbed two ties, and threw in a sweater for good measure. If he got a miracle, it would be enough. He still felt grossly underprepared, even though he knew, deep down, that it was irrational. He'd already double-checked for a spare toothbrush, and triple-checked to make sure he'd packed clean underwear. His mother would have a heart attack if she saw him making a mess of his room as he scrambled to get ready.