For Once, page 11
Morgan nodded curtly, grateful they weren't trying to keep her any longer.
As she stepped into the hallway, Derik rushed over to her side, his green eyes filled with concern. "Morgan, are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to steady her.
"Fine," she replied, brushing off his assistance, though inside, she appreciated having him here.
A nurse dashed down the hall after them, catching her breath before speaking. "Agent Greene, Agent Cross has a concussion and really needs to be off her feet," she advised, her tone firm.
"Thanks for the update," Morgan said sarcastically, her impatience growing. "But I can handle myself. We have a case to work on, and I won't let this slow me down."
With that, Morgan took off toward the exit. Moments later, Derik chased after her.
Morgan stepped out of the hospital into the harsh sunlight, squinting against its glare. The air was heavy with the scent of car exhaust and blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the sterile environment she'd just left. Derik caught up with her, his face creased with worry.
"Hey, Morgan, come on," he said.
"Did you manage to get that rental car I asked for?" Morgan questioned as they walked toward the parking lot.
"Of course," Derik replied, eyeing her cautiously. "But I don't think you should be driving, not with a concussion."
"Derik, I'm fine," Morgan insisted, her tone firm. "I'm an adult, an agent, and I know my limits. It's just a minor concussion."
She could see the frustration in Derik's eyes, but she didn't care. She had been through worse during her time in prison, and this case was too important to let anything stand in her way. As they reached the rental car, a sleek black sedan, Morgan gripped the handle and took a deep breath. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but she shook it off, refusing to give Derik any further reason to doubt her abilities.
"Okay, fine," Derik conceded, his arms crossed defensively. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
"Always am," she responded, her voice low as she slid into the driver's seat.
"Are you heading to the bird sanctuary?" he asked, hesitating by the open car door.
"Yes, I am," she confirmed, adjusting the rearview mirror. "I'll meet you there."
"Alright," Derik sighed, relenting as he closed the door. "Be safe, Morgan."
She watched him walk away, the weight of his concern settling on her shoulders. Morgan knew she was pushing herself, but she couldn't afford to back down – not now. Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel, her thoughts racing with the possibilities of what they might find at the sanctuary.
With a determined nod, Morgan started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving behind the hospital and her doubts – for now.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Morgan’s head still felt foggy, but the pain killers were keeping the full force of the concussion at bay, and she found her mind clearing as she drove toward the bird sanctuary. She refused to let something like this stand in the way of her doing her job, and since Derik’s zoo angle didn’t turn out, this bird sanctuary just might have the answers she needed to solve the case.
As she drove down the winding road leading to the Simmons Avian Sanctuary, Morgan caught glimpses of Derik's car in her rearview mirror. She could practically feel his concern radiating through the glass, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she focused on the sanctuary, her mind racing with thoughts of what they might find there.
Upon arrival, the colorful sign displaying the sanctuary's name stood out against the backdrop of the farm landscape. As she parked her car, Morgan could already see various birds flitting about in their fenced-in enclosures, their feathers catching the sunlight. She stepped out of the car, the world spinning around her for a brief moment as her head throbbed with pain.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Derik asked, rushing over to her side. "You look like you're about to pass out."
Morgan gritted her teeth, her jaw clenched as she tried to keep her composure. "I told you, I'm fine," she snapped, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "We have a job to do, remember?"
"Right," Derik sighed, his eyes filled with worry. "But promise me something, Morgan. If you start feeling worse, you'll tell me, alright?"
"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, knowing it was the only way to get him off her back. As they walked toward the sanctuary, she couldn't shake the eerie feeling that something wasn't quite right. Her instincts had never failed her before, and she knew better than to ignore them now. "Let's see what we can find," she said, her voice low and determined.
Derik nodded. Together, they stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever darkness awaited them within the Simmons Avian Sanctuary.
The sound of birdsong filled the air, a cacophony of melodies that did little to soothe Morgan's pounding headache. Her vision blurred momentarily as she tried to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't let her injuries hold her back.
They approached the sanctuary's office. The door swung open, revealing a cozy space filled with various bird-themed knickknacks. Behind the front desk stood a zany older woman with glasses perched precariously on her nose. Her hair was twisted up into an unruly bun, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she regarded the two agents.
"Welcome to Feathers Sanctuary!" she chirped. "How can I help you?"
Morgan flashed her badge, the metal glinting under the fluorescent lights. "Morgan Cross, FBI. This is my partner, Derik Greene. We're investigating a series of crimes, and we'd like your insight."
"Of course!" The woman extended a hand for them to shake. "My name's Caroline. I'm the owner of this place. What can I do you for?”
As Morgan shook Caroline's hand, her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle that had brought them here. It was important to tread carefully; there was no telling what secrets the sanctuary might hold. But one thing was certain: they were closer than ever to the truth, and there was no turning back now.
Caroline gestured for Morgan and Derik to follow her, leading them through a narrow hallway lined with framed photographs of various exotic birds. The vibrant colors and intricate patterns seemed to leap off the walls, casting an almost hypnotic spell on the agents.
"Let me show you our back room," Caroline said, unlocking a door at the end of the hall. "We have quite a history here at Feathers Sanctuary."
As they entered the dimly lit room, Morgan couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The walls were adorned with an impressive collection of bird-related memorabilia, including sketches, paintings, and even delicate feather arrangements.
"My father founded this sanctuary decades ago," Caroline explained, her voice filled with pride. "Nowadays, I run the place full-time." She adjusted her glasses, scanning the room as if reminiscing about the past.
Morgan glanced at Derik, noting the hint of trepidation in his eyes. He was just as invested in this case as she was, and the weight of their task seemed to be bearing down on him. She knew she had to keep the conversation focused.
"Caroline, we're investigating a series of murders that seem to involve rare bird feathers," Morgan said, her voice steady. "The killer has been leaving behind a feather matching a color on each victim, and our research led us here. We know you keep albatrosses and other rare birds at your sanctuary."
Caroline's expression shifted from nostalgic to concerned. "Oh, my... That's terrible. Of course, I'll do anything I can to help."
Morgan studied Caroline, observing the lines on her face that hinted at years of hard work and dedication. She wondered what dark secrets might be hiding beneath the surface of this seemingly innocent sanctuary. But first, they needed to find out more about the birds in question.
"Can you tell us more about the albatrosses and other rare birds you keep here?" she asked, her mind racing with possibilities. "Any information you might have could be crucial in catching this killer."
Caroline nodded solemnly, seemingly eager to assist in their investigation. As she began to speak, Morgan clenched her fists, steeling herself for whatever revelations lay ahead. The truth was tantalizingly close, and she couldn't afford to let it slip through her fingers.
Caroline's eyes flitted nervously around the room, as if she were searching for the right words to describe the situation. "It's true that we have some rare birds here, including albatrosses," she admitted. "But it would be very difficult for anyone to get near them without being a staff member."
"Can you tell us more about your staff?" Morgan inquired, her investigative instincts kicking in. She knew that no stone could be left unturned in this case.
Caroline sighed, adjusting her glasses as she answered. "Well, right now, it's just me and my teenage daughter who have access to the birds. We're very protective of our animals, so we don't let just anyone in."
Morgan frowned, trying not to let her disappointment show. A mother and a teenage daughter didn't fit the profile of the killer they were looking for. But she had to keep digging. "Has there ever been anyone else who worked here, maybe someone who could have taken the feathers before?"
Caroline hesitated, her fingers playing with the hem of her blouse. "There was one time when we hired someone outside of the family," she said quietly. "I regretted it almost immediately. About six months ago, we had to let a young man go because he kept creeping out our customers."
"What do you mean?" Derik asked, leaning forward with interest.
"Well," Caroline continued, "he would often engage people in long, drawn-out conversations about the birds. It was incredibly overbearing, and it started scaring off business. So I had no choice but to let him go."
Morgan clenched her jaw, feeling a spark of anger at the thought of this mysterious man potentially using the sanctuary's resources for such sinister purposes. "Do you remember his name?" she demanded, her voice tight.
"Adam Sallow," Caroline answered, her voice barely a whisper. "He was strange, but passionate about birds. I wanted to give him a chance, but in the end, it just wasn't worth jeopardizing our family business and the safety of my daughter."
"Adam Sallow, you said?" Morgan asked, her voice sharpened with determination. "Do you have any more information on him? Anything that could help us find him?"
Caroline hesitated, fidgeting with the glasses perched on her nose. "I don't know much about his personal life, but he was always very knowledgeable about birds. He seemed to have a genuine love for them... I wanted to give him a chance, but it just became too much."
"Thank you, Caroline," Morgan said, her eyes locked onto the older woman's. "Your help is invaluable."
"Of course, Agent Cross," Caroline replied, her expression a mixture of worry and hope. "I hope you can catch this person and bring them to justice."
With a nod, Morgan and Derik turned to leave the sanctuary. As they stepped out into the sunlight, the scent of fresh grass and bird calls filling the air, Morgan's thoughts raced. Adam Sallow. A name to a faceless monster. She could feel the urgency bubbling up within her.
"Come on, Derik," she urged, striding towards their cars. "We need to find this guy before he hurts anyone else."
"Hey, slow down," Derik called after her, jogging to catch up. "We need to make sure we go about this the right way. We can't just rush in without a plan."
"Every second we waste is another second he has to find his next target," Morgan snapped, her frustration boiling over. "We need to move now!"
Derik paused, his green eyes searching hers. "I know you want to catch this guy, Morgan. We all do. But we have to be smart about it, or we risk letting him slip through our fingers."
Morgan clenched her fists, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "You're right," she admitted, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "But we can't just sit around and do nothing."
"Fine," Derik sighed, relenting to Morgan's stubbornness. "But we're making that report after we check out his house."
"Not a chance," Morgan said tersely, climbing into her car and slamming the door behind her. She didn't want to waste any more time on this; she needed to get to Adam Sallow and put an end to this nightmare once and for all.
As she drove through the winding streets of the quiet suburb, Morgan couldn't help but play the events of the past while over in her mind. The gunshot echoing through the night, the smell of burning rubber, Thomas' betrayal — it all swirled together like a storm cloud above her head. And despite her best efforts, a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, she should slow down and think things through before diving headfirst into danger.
But she pushed those thoughts aside as she pulled up to the address they had found for Adam Sallow. She had a gut feeling that she was about to come face-to-face with a monster.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Morgan pulled up to Adam Sallow's address. The house was dilapidated, with peeling paint and an overgrown lawn that looked as though it hadn't been tended to in years. No car in the driveway, no lights inside; it seemed as if the place had been abandoned long ago.
She stepped out of her car, wincing at the throbbing pain in her head. Her body was screaming for food and water, but she ignored the hunger pangs and focused instead on the task at hand.
Derik wasted no time, jumping out of his car and hurrying over to Morgan. He looked her over with concern in his green eyes, taking in her disheveled appearance. "Morgan, you look like you're about to pass out," he warned.
"Thanks for the observation, but I'm fine," she retorted, suppressing a wince as a sharp pain throbbed in her head. She didn't need Derik's concern right now; she needed answers.
Derik sighed, clearly frustrated. "Someday, you're going to have to learn how to let people care about you."
Morgan clenched her jaw, ignoring the comment. Instead, she focused on the ramshackle house before them. The paint was peeling, the front steps creaked under her weight, and the overgrown lawn seemed to be swallowing the building whole. It was the perfect hideout for someone like Adam Sallow.
"Nobody's answering," Morgan observed after her third knock went unanswered. She stepped back and peered through the dusty windows, seeing nothing but darkness and the vague shapes of old furniture. "Let's check the backyard."
As they rounded the corner of the house, Morgan felt a shiver run down her spine. The entire property seemed to exude a sense of darkness and decay, as though it had been abandoned by the world long ago. But Morgan knew better — this was where their suspect had been hiding in plain sight.
"Stay sharp," she whispered to Derik as they approached the backyard, every nerve in her body on high alert. Somewhere within this forsaken place, they were bound to find something that would lead them closer to the truth. And she wasn't about to let anything — or anyone — stand in her way.
The backyard was a tangled mess of overgrowth, the grass nearly waist-high and choked with weeds. The air hung heavy with neglect, and Morgan couldn't help but feel that they were on the right track. As she picked her way through the underbrush, her eyes caught sight of something out of place — a cellar door, half-hidden beneath a tangle of vines.
"Derik," she whispered, pointing it out to him. "Look at this."
Derik frowned as he approached, taking in the loose chain lock wrapped around the handles. "That doesn't look good. We should be careful."
Morgan's gut churned with unease, but she was determined to see this through. Without a second thought, she pulled out her gun and fired a single shot, breaking the lock.
"Jesus, Morgan!" Derik hissed, wincing at the sound. "You can't just fire a gun off in broad daylight! What if someone heard?"
"Then they'll know not to mess with us," Morgan retorted. She knew that she was being reckless, but she didn't care. She'd been pushed too far, and she needed answers. "Help me with this door."
Together, they pried open the creaking cellar doors, and a foul smell wafted out — a mix of decay and something else, something unidentifiable but deeply unsettling. Morgan felt her stomach turn, yet she couldn't back down now.
"Are you sure about this?" Derik asked, concern etched across his face as he glanced down into the darkness.
"Absolutely," she replied, steeling herself for what lay ahead. "Let's go."
As they descended into the cellar, Morgan's mind raced with possibilities, each more terrible than the last. Who was Adam Sallow, really, and what had driven him to become a killer? And, perhaps most importantly, how many more innocent lives were at stake if they didn't stop him?
Morgan's flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a narrow set of wooden steps descending into the cellar. The smell grew stronger as they descended, and she pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose to block out the stench. It was an oppressive mix of death and formaldehyde that made her chest tighten.
"God, it smells awful," Derik muttered, his voice muffled by his own makeshift mask.
"Stay close," Morgan instructed, her voice tense. She couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just about finding their suspect anymore; there was something much darker at play.
When they finally reached the main room of the cellar, Morgan's flashlight swept across the space, revealing a grisly sight: dozens of embalmed birds hung from hooks or lay on tables, their lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead. The smell was almost unbearable now, and Morgan struggled to keep her composure.
Morgan took a deep breath before stepping further into the room. Her heart raced as she contemplated what sort of person could take pleasure in such a macabre display.
As she inched toward the far side of the room, her flashlight illuminated a table covered in polaroid photographs. Picking one up, she saw Melissa's blazing red hair, her face frozen in terror. Another photograph showed Steven, his mismatched eyes wide with fear. And then, there was Alice, the woman with albinism, her pale skin ghostly in the dim light.
"Derik, look at these," she said urgently, her voice shaking. "These are the victims."
"Shit," he breathed, pulling out his phone. "I'm calling for backup."
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