+18 - eps 28-32 - On the sixth installment of the Blackbird series, Cassidy sends Gillian and her team with Brock and Russel to Tampa, Florida, to look into the death of a girl while winter storm Jonas beats the East Coast. But this seemingly ordina...
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Gillian saw in the rearview Brock's SUV turn around and leave the way he'd come. Aldana's report on the radio distracted her from Brock's righteous tantrums. There'd be time to bear them when they met back at the house.
"They what?" asked Fred, a shocked frown pursing his face.
"They recorded it. That was what they were watching when we knocked on the door."
"Sons of bitches!"
"Only Irene?" asked Gillian, eyes on the bumpy, slippery Trail and firm hands on the wheel.
"Don't know yet. We fast-forwarded that shit to make sure the baby didn't show up. Now we're about to search the house."
"How can you be sure the baby wasn't there, just off screen?" Gillian insisted.
"No baby crying, and they took the shopping bags from the car only to stuff her body in the trunk."
"Maybe Cassidy wasn't lying about the adoption?" said Fred.
"That's what we're gonna find out next," Gillian replied. "We've caught Irene's killer, so now it's time to find her child."
At Poole's house, they found a couple of cruisers, uniforms taping the lot off and police CSU techs coming out. And Brock's SUV, of course.
Gillian and Fred walked in. Russell and Brock talked in low voices in the living room, as Aldana preceded a tech downstairs, carrying a computer in his arms.
Russell raised his hand to interrupt Brock when he saw Gillian and Fred come closer. She ignored Brock's angry glare down at her.
"Poole?" she asked.
"The locals have'im in custody."
"The video?"
Russell showed a flash drive in his hand and nodded to Aldana and the tech. "We're taking Poole's computer for T to check. We found a bunch of DVDs, but they were all regular movies."
"Both Reed and Poole show on the video, torturing Irene?"
Russell exhaled as to get rid of a disgusting memory. "Only Reed tortured her. Poole came out from behind the camera to take a closer look..." He trailed off, snorted, forced himself to finish. "...when Reed ripped her clothes off."
"Looks like Reed was mentoring Poole, after he made such a mess with Kelly Hayes on Epiphany's Night," said Brock, colder than usual. "I think the video worked both to relive the thrill of the torture and to instruct Poole on the how-to."
Gillian ignored the temperature drop at his words. Uniforms zipped up their jackets as the chilly air escaped out the open door to join the storm.
"Al, have the uniform take the CPU to Agent Brockner's vehicle, please," Gillian said on the radio.
"Got it."
She turned to Fred and Russell. "When you're done here, go meet Ron at the police station and make these sick douchebags speak."
"With pleasure," grunted Fred.
Gillian faced Brock as if he wore a friendly smile—wrong, that would make her panic. She could see he was boiling inside to scold her with a proper-fed preach about her methods, so she'd better get done with it sooner than later.
"Can you give me the ride to the house, sir?" she asked.
His answer was a curt nod. He spun on his heels and stalked out.
"Good luck," said Fred, half amused, half concerned.
"Hope I don't kill'im," she muttered.
Russell scoffed. "Yeah, anytime"
She just had to follow the trace of frost on the grass through the front yard, then on the sidewalk, up to the SUV. She got in and Brock drove away. A moment later, the wind noticed the icy trace and decided to pick it up on its way after Jonas. Later that night, a light snowfall laid a cute white layer all over Gainesville, two-hundred miles northeast of Tampa.
