The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter two

Clint Price came in last, sliding into his usual spot at the head of the table. He took the stack of papers in his hands and surveyed them. "I hope you all had a good weekend because this is going to be a nasty one."

Darren held up the first crime scene photo, shuddering. "Jesus. Who did this guy piss off?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Kaytee replied. "The deputy phoned me this morning. Apparently, his name is Bill Kinsley, early sixties. You can imagine how happy his wife was to find out he was last seen with a prostitute at a shady motel."

"What was he doing there?" Nolan asked.

Dre shot him a look. "What do you think, Foster? Isn't it obvious?"

Nolan's ears went pink. "Oh."

Dre was only teasing, but Nolan still felt a bit embarrassed all the same.

Kaytee continued on, wiping her palms on the front of her pencil skirt. "The coroner is still working on getting us a full report, but it's not looking good. There are multiple stab wounds to the chest and torso, and the victim's eyes were cut out."

"That's not all he did," Price chimed in through gritted teeth. "He removed the man's penis too."

There was a collective hiss of disgust around the room. It was a brutal act, and the pictures seemed to do it justice. The image was fresh in Nolan's mind, and he had a feeling it would be for many weeks to come. He'd been in the FBI for a while, freshly promoted from the academy, but the sight of the gore always fazed him. He wondered if the others were jaded, unable to be affected by any of it.

He tried not to look shaken. Price had doubted him from day one, and the last thing he needed was to give him a reason to demote him. Nolan wondered if anyone believed he could do this job. He wanted to prove that he could, especially after a murder like this. He couldn't sit out when justice needed to be found.

"How do you know a man did it?" Darren questioned. "Wasn't he last seen with a woman?"

"This level of overkill isn't common for a woman," Nolan blurted before Price could explain it himself. "Women typically choose quieter, neater weapons. A knife doesn't match a prototypical MO."

Price nodded appreciatively, giving his silent approval. "Glad to see you've been reading up, Foster."

"Of course, sir," Nolan said quietly. "It's part of the job."

"It could very easily be the work of an angry pimp," Dre added. "It could explain the damage to the face and body. There's an intense level of anger when it comes to this kind of mutilation."

"Makes sense," Darren agreed. "Maybe things got a bit rough, and he felt the need to intervene. Who discovered him?"

"A housekeeper this morning," Kaytee supplied.

"Poor woman," Price remarked. "So how does this fall under federal jurisdiction? Are you sure we've got a serial killer on our hands?"

"This type of sadist doesn't seem like a one-time deal," Darren said. "I've studied plenty of criminals, and this definitely profiles like a serial offender."

"Harte is right," Kaytee agreed. "Turn the page. Whoever this is has killed two more in Dallas County. They called us in because—"

"Because it crossed county lines," Price finished for her. "It's ours now, whether we like it or not."

Nolan frowned at each report. "This doesn't make sense. All of these victims are completely different. None of them seem to have any overlap."

"Foster has a point," Dre added. "A family man, an old guy, and a college student. They're all different ages and from different socioeconomic backgrounds. Under different circumstances, I wouldn't find a connection."