+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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"All I can say is that the blood from the shed doesn't belong to one person alone. But it's gonna take days to set it apart and tell how many people."
Gillian sighed. "Okay... Come home, Doc. You've earned it."
She disconnected and turned to the table. Russell and Brock were still upstairs, taking a shower after all the mud and rain and cold from the woods. Tanya worked in a sullen silence. There was no trace of Irene being committed to any hospital in the Richmond area on the date she'd given birth, so Tanya hadn't any clear hint to follow once she hacked her way into the sealed adoption files of Virginia's legal system. Aldana tried to help by looking into the tow truck records. Jonas was still hitting hard the whole East Coast, so communications were scrambled, and Kurt and Connor couldn't help them in real time.
"Al, please tell me again, where did Ron and Fred go?" Gillian asked.
Her mind still felt numb, no matter how hard she tried to keep focused. All she could think about was Irene's baby, and that they didn't have the slightest clue to keep searching for him or her. Hank's last update didn't exactly help. What if the baby's blood was mixed in the samples from the shed?
"The tow truck's registered to one Laura Prince," Aldana replied. "She lives about two miles away from here, so they went to see her."
"Oh..."
Gillian circled the table toward the only spare computer. Which wasn't idle either. The techs had found six different sets of fingerprints on that horrible stretcher at the shed, so Tanya's computer was running them. So far, three of them had no match on any database.
"We need Irene's prints," Gillian muttered.
Russell came in then. His mood showed he was still affected by what he'd seen at the shed. "We need a court order to access to her body," he said.
"Maybe not. We still have her car and her suitcase."
He saw Gillian grab her phone and tried to smile. "Hank's so gonna hate you."
"Such a pity."
She was about to dial Hank when her phone buzzed.
"Hey, Reg, not a frigging cab available with this rain," said Hank. "Don't you need anything else from the Lab? Dr. Nowak can give me the ride, but she's still busy."
"You feeling okay, Doc?"
"So funny."
"Irene's prints from her car could come in very handy."
Russell's phone buzzed as Gillian disconnected. He picked up on speaker.
"Hey, Russ, no takeout open, so you better get to work," said Ron.
"Yes, hun."
"Anything?" asked Gillian.
"A name," Ron replied. "The truck belonged to Laura Prince's late husband."
"To earn some extra money after he died, she'd been leasing it to Mark Reed over the last year," said Fred.
"The address he gave her is the same fake we already checked. And the phone number is the burner from the truck's side."
"Which is still off," grunted Tanya.
"At least we know he's using the same alias for everything," said Russell. "We should try to find—"
"No use," growled Tanya. "Same fake address on his driving license, fake social, no credit cards or bank accounts on any Mark Reed matching his age and social class."
Gillian sighed again. "Come home, lads."
"Mark my words, Russ. I'm starving."
"Yes, hun."
"Hey, lads, text me the name of that late husband," said Aldana.
Russell disconnected and patted Gillian's shoulder. "Come help me."
She frowned in disbelief. "Me? Cook?"
He rounded her shoulders with his arm and led her out of the 101. "Trust me. It'll help you clear your mind."
