Darkly - Episode #3

Mixing the FBI & Dark Magic

Want to start at the beginning? You can find the 1st episode and all episodes HERE.

For those already in the thick of it, here’s a quick recap to launch you into the next part: Kinley Scott is off to a rough start as an FBI Analyst on the Omega Task Force. She needs to figure out the office politics and turn things around, but if we’ve learned anything about her, it’s probably not in her nature.

Now… onto Darkly Episode #3.

Luck follows the desperate, laughing.

Or so I’d once joked, but Luck be damned. I needed an opening, an opportunity to shine. My best plan was to put the break room drama behind me and return to work. Given time, the evidence would reveal its truth.

Unfortunately, I found Special Agent Gil Graham waiting outside the Bullpen. A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. Very distracting, but finding him waiting for me was more unsettling. I didn’t trust handsome men.

“Want some advice?” He raised an eyebrow.

Did I? Curiosity made me shrug. “Sure.”

“I feel protective of newbies,” he began, checking for anyone close enough to overhear.

His caution felt like someone second-guessing a decision as if he’d overstepped a boundary. It probably had something to do with Wilkes. Geez, were they friends?

He cleared his throat. “It’s a tip for surviving Wilkes’s team.”

Gil Graham leaned in, breaking into my personal space. Most people don’t get that close. Was he flirting? He smelled clean, and I got a hint of starch. The kind you spray on and iron. Intoxicating. What could I say? I had neat freak traits. I shifted my eyes from his full lips to his eyes. Equally dangerous, but with him so close, where else could I look? Gil seemed a little distracted by our proximity, as well. “Wilkes can be a handful if you haven’t noticed. But he’s easy to understand.”

I nodded, open to any advice on that front.

“Whatever you find, small or large, run it through Wilkes first. If it’s crap, he’ll shoot it down, no harm done. If it’s good intel, he’ll take all the credit.” Gil frowned, and I assumed he didn’t like that part, but it happened, even in the FBI. “The only one that gets to grandstand is Wilkes.”

I held up a hand, a little stop sign. “Wilkes has a team of fifty. How can he take all the credit?”

Gil didn’t answer right away. He had a way of looking at me and listening in the moment. It was so damn attractive.

“Years and years of practice,” he grinned.

I still found it hard to believe.

“Fairness isn’t an agency-wide policy.” Gil sounded apologetic. “It can work to your advantage. If you bring him something that turns bad, he won’t hold it against you. He’ll protect you.”

I nodded, getting the trade-off. “If you say so.”

“Wilkes has to be the smartest person in the room. It’s that simple,” Gil said. “Guess there’s always a downside to the perfect job.”

“No, there isn’t,” I countered.

He laughed. “Really? How’s that?”

“A job with a flawed boss is not perfect,” I said, realizing he enjoyed the argument. “So, it can’t be the perfect job.”

Gil let me have that one. “But it’s worth it, right? You’re on the Omega case.”

I shook my head. “How does Wilkes get away with it? Isn’t there gossip? Wouldn’t someone upstairs hear?”

He shrugged. “Results come first.”

I reached out and grabbed his arm, giving it a shake. “Stop. You’re crushing all my FBI expectations.”

He looked down at my hand and smiled back at me. “I might know a better option with a fair boss. Wanna jump ship?”

“No,” I said, quickly releasing him. I shoved my hand into my jacket pocket. It felt warm from where we’d touched. “If I find out that you are making any of this Wilkes B.S. up just to recruit me, I will get even.”

Gil laughed. “Tempting, too bad it’s the truth.”

What a frustrating man. I had more questions, but a shout from down the hallway interrupted us.

Wilkes rushed into the hall. “We’ve got a lead on a missing woman!”

The declaration echoed all around, drawing out several team members. An alert must have also been sent. Agents and support staff flooded the hallway. Everyone had a spot, and they mobilized toward it. The passage was filled with personnel, like ants escaping a collapsing hill.

Gil and I stood back, but Nina appeared, pulling us into the flow of bodies that clogged the way to the Dugout. “You’re with me,” she ordered.

Wilkes waited at the double doors, giving commands to key members. He spotted us and pointed at Gil. “You, too, Graham, we might need you.”

Gil gave me a nod and forced his way toward the front of the crowd. Nina and I hung back, finding ourselves in the same spot. Last.

“What happened?” I asked her.

She didn’t seem to mind waiting in the hallway, her excitement genuine. “We’ve been following a pattern—one we don’t think Omega is aware he’s making.”

Data to the rescue!

“We’ve been hyper-focused on compiling information from every attack,” Nina continued, “looking at the data from every angle. Overanalyzing the shit out of it. And we discovered an attack window. Times when he’s more likely to strike. We’re within an attack window now, and we have two reports of missing women.”

“Two?”

“It’s sad,” Nina pouted. “Women go missing every day. Most just turn back up, you know, some misunderstanding. This is the first time we’ve hit an attack window and gotten a solid lead. Two leads, but they’re long shots.”

“Why?” It sounded like valuable intel to me.

“The attack window is a theory,” Nina explained. “It could be brilliant, or it could be crap. This is the first big test.”

“But you could really catch him.” I was impressed, and it showed.

Nina noticed. “Thanks.” She tapped my shoulder, dismissing me as she spotted part of her team and went to join them.

Agents and support staff divided into two groups, one for each location. They’d hit both at the same time. I could just see into the Dugout, and the two possible Omega locations were up on the screens—a storage facility and an outdoor sports complex. Both were sprawling and public, so the search could take longer than we had—about ten to twenty minutes—a range established from crime scene analysis. After Omega burned them, he let them stew. Building the fear, perhaps? The time between applying the mark and the victim’s final breath had meaning, but we just didn’t have enough facts to figure it out. Those details died with the victims.

Whatever the reason, Omega had to relish the tantalizing minutes until he completed his ritual, took their cell phones and their lives.

But it could all end today.

The thought reverberated in my mind. It was unthinkable. The serial killer seemed untouchable, making the FBI look bad by terrorizing a tri-state area, leaving few clues. He took women between the ages of 18 and 28 from busy, public locations. The agents would swarm the targeted spots, cut off access, and search every inch to find the killer… and the victim. Civilians would be annoyed, but every effort had to be made, even if it was for nothing.

With the team moving on two leads, it was the first positive in a ledger of debits. I couldn’t help but feel a pang that I’d miss out on all the action, but if it resulted in saving a young woman, I was okay with what it meant for my career. With twelve women slain, Omega had to be stopped. Twelve. It made my stomach churn. Perhaps the next one would be lucky thirteen. Lucky for us. And for the girl.

As agents put on coats, secured their weapons, and hurried out, Wilkes turned back to see if everyone he wanted was moving. I stood on my tiptoes, looking around heads so he could see mine. He might take another analyst with him, especially a junior one who needed to get her feet wet. Wilkes spotted me. His mouth turned into a sour slant. “You stay here.”

Like a bullet to my heart, the two Omega Teams rushed out. I was left behind. My consolation prize? More paperwork. I headed back to my cubicle and took out the victims’ photographs. Happy shots from before the attacks. Beautiful girls. No specific type, though. My computer beeped. It had finished the searches I’d requested.

Waving my hand across the screen, the information came up. I blinked, dumbfounded for a moment. My heart skipped a beat as I read the information on the screen. I couldn’t keep this to myself! I moved so fast I stumbled, trying to get up from the chair and out of my cubicle. A hand on the wall stopped me from falling flat on my face.

“Help!” I shouted. “We need to divert the teams!”

Heads popped up in the other cubicles. I wasn’t the only one that had retreated to lick my wounds. Stunned faces stared my way. Eyes blinked, not getting the urgency.

“I have vital intel for Wilkes.”

A cute redhead pointed to the hallway. “You have to go to the Dugout.”

I sprinted for the nerve center and, within seconds, burst into the room with an unintelligible shout. Another head-turning moment, tense faces greeted me.

“Send everyone to the Westland Mall!” I gasped, pulse racing. “Both teams are going to the wrong location!”

Keep Reading — this link will take you to Darkly-Episode #4.