The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter thirty-five

"Goodnight," he called after her.

He was left confused, unsure of what had gotten into Kaytee. There was a look in her eyes, one that left him concerned beyond belief.

She'd left her computer unlocked.

He saw that she'd left the monitor active. Ordinarily, she would have turned it off before leaving, but in her haste, she'd left the computer on, still whirring.

He knew it was wrong to snoop. She would be pissed if she was aware he was even considering it.

He had a feeling that the reason she was so upset was on that computer.

Before he could stop himself, he was sitting in her chair, still warm from her being there. He accessed her email account in seconds. Amid messages from Price and journalists, there was one that struck him as odd.

There was no subject label, and from an outsider's perspective, it might have seemed innocuous. Judging by the time stamp, it was the most recent email in her feed. And by the looks of it, it was the one that had been open before she left.

The note was a strange one. The only customized part of the address was a stream of numbers without a name to identify it.

The text was short, and it chilled him to the bone.

You were too late for Quinton and too late for the others. Don't be late for this one. See you at midnight, Agent Carlisle. Come alone.

—DR

Attached was an address for a factory in Waco. One web search revealed it was a condemned building and had been closed for a couple of weeks. It was the sort of place kids told stories about, painting elaborate tales of urban legends. During the day it was menacing. He couldn't imagine what it would look like at this hour.

Kaytee was going there anyway. He knew she was. It didn't matter that it was a trap, a taunt to the FBI. By mentioning Quinton, the sender had gotten inside of Kaytee's head. She cared too much about other people to ignore it, regardless of the risk.

It was ten-fifteen now. A drive to Waco would take at least an hour and a half, and Kaytee had a head start.

Nolan ran to Price's office, swinging the door open without knocking. "Guys!"

Three heads perked up. Price's cocked, prompting him.

"Kaytee's in trouble," he said quickly, nearly tripping over his words.

Dre was on his feet immediately. "What the hell does that mean, Foster?"

"She got an email. I don't know who sent it but she's going to get hurt if we don't do something about it."

"Show me," said Price.

Back at her desk, the unit chief read the message, his lips pursed and whitening.

"Harte, get the tech department on this, I want them to trace the IP and get details on the sender," Price ordered. "I don't know how the hell Delaney sent this from incarceration, but I want answers now. You hear me?"

"I'm on it," Darren said, withdrawing his phone.

"You really think it's her?" Nolan asked, confused.

"It was signed with her initials, I don't think that's a coincidence. Frankly, we don't have time to find out," Price replied. "Right now, we need to get Carlisle out of there. Foster, Keaton, you're coming with me. One of you needs to get in touch with Waco police. If someone is going after one of our agents, we need back-up."

"You got it," Dre said. In seconds, he was making the call.

Nolan grabbed his bag, securing his gun in its holster. He swallowed hard, scared that they would be too late to help Kaytee. He dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail. She must have turned her phone off, and it terrified him to think she was ready to do this by herself.

"I don't know what she was thinking," Price said sharply. "Why would she go rogue? What the hell would drive her to do something like that?"

"Manipulation," Nolan answered. "Kaytee hasn't slept in weeks, not really. On top of that, she's emotionally invested. She cares a lot about Lexi and I think she blames herself for her brother's death. Whoever messaged her knew that."

Price was quick to act. "We need to go. Now!"

The three of them wasted no time waiting for the elevator. They walked quickly down a few flights of stairs, stopping at the first level of the parking garage. Nolan clambered into the backseat of the SUV, his whole body pulsing with adrenaline. He needed to get to Kaytee. He could feel his hands growing clammy, terrified of what might happen.

"Waco PD is waiting for our signal," Dre announced, buckling his seatbelt.

"Good," Price said. A short, clipped word.

Nolan tried calling Kaytee again, but only heard the familiar automated greeting on the other end of the line. Frustrated, he dropped it back in his lap and stared out the window of the SUV.

They were cutting it close. Even with Price driving fast, Nolan was worried they wouldn't be there in time. Kaytee was probably driving faster, and there was no telling what could be waiting for her.

He wished he could say something, anything to her. He would try to get her to come to her senses. She had good instincts, and she wasn't stupid. She knew all the risks of this, and she was still doing it.

The drive was too long, and he spent the length of it going over the evidence. They didn't know who sent the email, or where it came from, or why the sender went after Kaytee. He knew what it said by heart after running over it a few times. He knew she was meant to be alone in an isolated place because there was an ultimate plot to get to her.

They needed to save her. He couldn't let anything happen to Kaytee.

Dre dispatched the units to meet the police when they were twenty minutes from the factory. Nolan ran his fingers along the handle of his gun, closing them around it and letting go. The metal was cold, grounding him.

The police rode quietly, dimming the lights so as not to alert anyone inside the factory. Nolan wasn't sure that would make a difference. If they were being watched, whoever was in there would know they were coming.

Price hopped out of the car first, striding forward to the officer in charge. "We're going to fan out. Approach carefully and clear every square foot of that facility. A federal agent is in there, and we don't know what we're walking into. Be vigilant."

A chorus of acknowledgment erupted before the cops fanned out. His team separated, and he was left on his own. They all went in different directions, covering all entry points of the massive building.

None of them knew what was waiting. The bomb squad was on standby in the instance of explosives, and they had enough men to outnumber any possible groups behind the walls. Nolan didn't feel comforted. He wouldn't until Kaytee was safe.

Nolan had his gun drawn, tucked tightly in his hands. He was nearly running, rushing to get inside. He saw Kaytee's car parked out front almost immediately. It was empty, and that pushed him forward without hesitation.

It was dark, and all he had was a flashlight to navigate the musty maze. Metal structures were everywhere—the remnants of dismantled machines. It was some sort of canning plant before it was shut down, and the skeleton was still there. He shined the light around him, searching for any signs of life as he crept down the narrow hallway.

He listened closely, hoping to hear footsteps or voices. He got nothing.

His heart pounded, bursting against his ribcage.

Everything inside him screamed there was danger lurking. He was completely high strung, the hair of his arms standing straight up. Inside his head, he was pleading with a greater force. His unit was his family, for better or worse. He couldn't lose anyone.

He turned a corner, startled out of his skin when he saw a silhouette shrouded by darkness.

"FBI!" he shouted, cocking his gun. "Put your hands where I can see them."