The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter thirty-one

He couldn't explain how he was feeling. There was so much stress in his life that it felt overwhelming, almost enough to make him want to quit. Alas, he couldn't. There was no way he could walk away from a job like his. It wasn't in his nature to give up on being a hero.

He was surprised when his phone began to ring from the pocket of his slacks.

He answered even though his hands were full, using his shoulder to hold his cell. As he fumbled for his keys, he heard a quiet "hello?"

"Hi," he replied. "Lexi? Is that you?"

"Yeah," she said. "Look, I know it's last minute, but do you think we can meet? Something came up and I don't know who else I can turn to."

His interest was certainly piqued, but he tried not to be an asshole about it. "Sure. Yeah. What did you have in mind?"

"Honestly, I didn't get that far."

"That's okay," he assured her. "I haven't had dinner yet. Do you want to grab something to eat? We can talk then."

She hesitated. "I guess that's fine."

"I know just the place. I'll send you an address."

As promised, Nolan texted her the information for a deli he frequented. He figured they could eat out on the patio. Ideally, that would provide more privacy.

He couldn't help but wonder what she was going to say. He knew it wasn't good. It was readily apparent in her tone. She couldn't make that kind of worry, and it indicated a burden that must have been weighing her down relentlessly.

Lexi was running a little late. He found himself waiting for her when she pulled into the parking lot. She got out of her car in sweats and a faded hoodie. It was far too big for her, and he quickly deduced it was Quinton's. Her face was absent of any traces of makeup, and there was something hardened in her expression that surprised him.

"Shall we?" he asked.

She lifted her chin. "Sure."

She ordered a small salad. Nolan knew her appetite must have been waning because she seemed like she was losing weight. Granted, he hadn't known her long, but her face was growing narrower. Her whole frame was thinning as if she wasn't skinny enough to begin with. He would have said something, but he knew he wasn't the right person to do so.

He offered to pay, but she threw some wadded bills onto the counter before he could swipe his card. He didn't fight her since she seemed fixed in her choice.

"I invited you," she told him as the cashier passed her a receipt.

"Still," he protested.

"Agent Foster—"

"Nolan," he corrected her. "Call me Nolan."

"Nolan," she amended. "It's okay."

They sat down out back as he planned. She nibbled at delicate bites as he dug into his sandwich. She chewed slowly, working on one forkful for what seemed like an eternity.

"So what's going on?" he prompted.

She set her fork down gently beside her bowl. Her skin paled ever slightly. "I found something today. Delaney is... Delaney is your culprit. I know she is."

Nolan was floored. He tried not to go slack-jawed, but it was a challenge. "What makes you say that?"

Lexi bit down on her lip, which was chapped and indented from her teeth. "Because I found proof."

"Proof?" he echoed.

"She has bloody clothes. Way worse than my dress. There's a ton of it in the washroom, and she was hiding it away."

Nolan pushed a hand through his hair. He had a few options moving forward. He could get a warrant and search the house. Price wouldn't hesitate to do that. He knew that much to be true. He could also get the clothes without the warrant, but only if Lex wanted to help.

"We can get them tested. The forensics lab can figure out who the blood belongs to," he told her. "Do you think you can bring in the laundry?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'll stop by tomorrow. I just feel like I'm doing something wrong. I want to believe that I'm making this up and she's not involved. It's hard, you know? It's hard to ignore what feels like facts. I'm not imagining this, am I?"

He knew it wouldn't be professional for him to disclose any information to her. He couldn't, even if she was clearly tortured by the uncertainty.

Instead of confirming anything, he said, "We'll find out, Lexi."

She nodded. "I know. I don't want it to be her, but I also do because I want this to be over. I'm tired and angry and scared."

He reached out, wanting to touch her hand. At the last second, he pulled back. "We're gonna end it. My team and I are trying our best to bring whoever this is down."

Lexi took another bite of her salad, seemingly forcing herself to do it. They ate in silence for a while. He knew she was processing, taking her time. He waited for her to move the conversation along instead of pushing.

"Quinton's funeral is next weekend," she told him. "I don't know if that matters much, but I thought you should know."

"It might be valuable for us to attend," he replied. "If we get a couple of agents there, you'll have someone to make sure no one strange shows up. It'll be good to keep an eye on things."

She looked down at her lap. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

"You could be an agent," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

 She shook her head, fighting a small smile. "Nah. I'll leave that up to you."