Forever, page 15
***
Morgan's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white as she prepared to embark on her impossible mission. Her heart raced in anticipation, the adrenaline fueling her resolve. Just as she was about to pull out of the parking lot, Derik appeared at the passenger window, rapping his knuckles on the glass.
"Wait!" he shouted, his face a mix of urgency and relief. "We've got something you need to see."
Morgan hesitated for a moment before rolling down the window. "What is it?" she asked, her breath catching in her throat.
"Let me inside," Derik said, motioning towards the car door. "I'll explain on the way. We need to get down to the east precinct."
Morgan let Derik in, and he slammed the door behind her. She began driving toward the east precinct. "Well, what is it?"
"A woman came in," Derik said. "I just got a call from an officer. The girl claims she and her friend were kidnapped by a man and that he was going to drown them."
Morgan's heart pounded in her chest. "Could it be one of the girls Belinda warned me about?"
"I think so," Derik said. "There's only one way to find out."
Morgan pushed hard on the gas pedal, speeding through the city as fast as she could. Although she tried not to think about it, being alone with Derik in the car stirred up strange emotions in her. She had so many questions now. And if they were going to keep working together, she wanted answers to them.
"Why didn't you tell me you had a son?" she asked him.
Derik let out a heavy sigh. "It's complicated," he said, resting his hand on his lap. "I... I was ashamed that I decided not to be in his life. But I thought it'd be better for him. My ex and I were broken up, and I was still drinking, and as an FBI agent... I couldn't exactly be a present father."
Morgan nodded. She could understand that. "What's his name?"
"Luke," Derik answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's eight now."
Morgan's heart softened at the mention of Derik's son. She couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for him to stay away from his own child.
"I'm sorry," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "That must have been really difficult for you."
Derik gave her a small smile.
"It was," he admitted. "But I've learned to live with it. And now, I have something to fight for - to make the world a better place for my son and all the other kids out there."
For a second, Morgan's respect for Derik deepened. She knew what it was like to fight for something bigger than oneself, to make something good out of something bad. It was what drove her to become an FBI agent in the first place.
But Morgan quickly remembered that Derik wasn't the same partner she'd always had. Things were different now that he'd betrayed her and lied to her. She still felt there was information he was withholding, but with so many lives on the line, now wasn't the time to talk about it.
She focused on the road, driving the rest of the way in silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Morgan's heart pounded in her chest as she entered the dimly lit interrogation room. She found Jessica huddled in a corner, wrapped in a gray blanket and clutching a steaming mug of hot chocolate as if it were her lifeline. The young woman's eyes darted around the room nervously, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.
"Jessica?" Morgan asked gently, taking a seat across from her. She could see the raw fear etched into the girl's face and knew she had to tread carefully. Every second mattered, but they couldn't afford any missteps. "My name is Agent Cross, and this is Agent Derik. We're with the FBI, and we're here to help you."
"Please," Jessica whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. "You have to find Sarah. He's going to kill her."
"Tell me everything that happened," Morgan urged, her tone soft yet decisive. "Start from the beginning. We need every detail."
Jessica hesitated for a moment, then took a shaky breath and began to speak. "We...we met him at our AA meeting. He seemed really nice, you know? Charming. He offered to buy us dinner, so we said yes. We thought he was just being friendly." She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. "But then he started acting weird. Scaring us. And before we knew it, he'd tied us up and told us he was going to drown us."
"Can you describe him? Anything that could help us identify him?"
"Dark hair, kind of tall," Jessica said, her voice steadier now. "He had a creepy smile, like he was always hiding something."
"Did he say anything about where he was taking you?" Derik asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"No, just that it would be somewhere far away," she replied, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't know how I managed to escape, but I just knew I had to get away and find help."
"Jessica, you're incredibly brave for coming forward," Morgan told her, her voice filled with admiration. "We'll do everything we can to find Sarah and bring her home safely."
"Can you tell me how you managed to escape?" Morgan asked gently, watching Jessica's trembling hands clutch the blanket around her shoulders.
Jessica took a deep breath and slowly began to speak. "I... I managed to loosen the ropes on my hands while he was driving. When he slowed down, I saw my chance. I opened the door and just... jumped out."
"Jumped out of a moving vehicle?" Derik questioned, both impressed and concerned.
"Y-yeah," she nodded, her voice barely audible. "I hit the ground hard, but I knew I had to keep running. I couldn't let him catch me again." Tears streamed down her face as she continued, "I feel terrible, though. I left Sarah behind." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands.
Morgan could see the guilt weighing heavy on Jessica's shoulders, and her heart went out to her. She couldn't imagine the strength it must have taken to make that decision. "You did what you had to do, Jessica. Your bravery helped lead us to your captor. Now we need to focus on finding Sarah before it's too late." Morgan leaned in closer to Jessica, her eyes full of sympathy and determination. "Jessica, I need you to think back to when you were with him. Do you have any idea where he was taking you and Sarah?"
Jessica's eyes searched the room, as if trying to find the answers hidden in the sterile walls. Her voice trembled as she replied, "I don't know exactly... We were on the outskirts of town, but everything was moving so fast. I just remember running and running until I found help."
"Can you recall anything about your surroundings?" Morgan pressed gently, knowing that even the smallest detail could be crucial.
"Mostly just trees and fields and a lake," Jessica said, her voice barely audible. "But there was a highway nearby. A stranger picked me up and drove me into town."
"Okay," Morgan nodded, filing away the information in her mind. "Now, I need you to try and remember something else for me. Did the man who took you ever tell you his name?"
Jessica hesitated, her brow furrowed in concentration. "He called himself Seth," she finally said, though her expression made it clear she wasn't certain. "But I doubt that's his real name."
Morgan leaned in, her eyes fixed on Jessica's face. "One more thing," she asked softly, "can you tell me anything about the vehicle he was driving?"
Jessica's gaze grew distant, as if trying to summon the memory from a faraway place. "It was a construction van," she said slowly, her voice faint. "There was a saw logo and a slogan – 'let us work for you.' I didn't catch the name of the company, but I remember the slogan."
"Good, that's very helpful," Morgan said, giving Jessica an encouraging nod. "You've been incredibly brave, Jessica. We're going to do everything we can to find Sarah."
"Thank you," Jessica whispered, looking both grateful and terrified.
Morgan rose from her chair and exited the room, her mind racing with the new information. Derik was waiting for her just outside, his brow furrowed with concern. She could see the same determination etched into his features that she felt burning within her.
"Derik, we have a possible lead on the vehicle," Morgan said without preamble, her voice low and urgent. "Jessica described it as a construction van with a saw logo and the slogan 'let us work for you.' It might be our best chance at finding this guy before it's too late."
Derik's face hardened as he processed her words. "Alright, let's get on it. We don't have a moment to waste." He pulled out his phone, ready to coordinate their efforts with the rest of the team.
As they walked briskly through the bustling police station, Morgan couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility bearing down on her. The image of the two girls haunted her – the brunette, Jessica, now safe but traumatized, and the blonde, Sarah, who could be anywhere, her life hanging by a thread.
Morgan clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Time was slipping away, and every second that ticked by felt like another nail in Sarah's coffin. But she wouldn't let it end this way. She couldn't.
"Derik," Morgan said, a steely edge to her voice, "we're going to find this van, and we're going to save Sarah. I won't let him take another innocent life."
"Neither will I," Derik replied, his eyes meeting hers with fierce resolve. Together, they set off on their desperate mission, each fully aware of the stakes – and the deadly consequences if they failed.
***
The APB was out, but without much information on the vehicle, Morgan had little hope they'd find it. She hunched over her laptop in the briefing room at the precinct, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she searched for any trace of the van Jessica had described. The dim glow of the screen illuminated her furrowed brow, casting eerie shadows on her determined expression.
"Come on..." she muttered, trying to connect the slogan 'let us work for you' to construction companies in Dallas. But her search turned up dozens of possibilities – none of which seemed to fit the bill. Frustration bubbled up inside her chest, threatening to boil over. Time was running out, and with each passing moment, Sarah's chances of survival grew slimmer. Morgan knew that if they failed to find the van soon, it might be too late.
Morgan's fingers raced across her laptop keyboard, the frantic tapping a stark contrast to the stillness of the briefing room. Her eyes were red-rimmed and focused, scanning the screen for any useful information. The clock on the wall ticked away seconds like a metronome, each beat a reminder that Sarah's life was slipping through their fingers.
"Custom logos," she whispered to herself as if it were some sort of sacred mantra. She quickly changed the direction of her search, looking up businesses in Dallas that specialized in adding logos to vehicles. Dialing the first number she found, Morgan held her breath, praying for a breakthrough.
"Hi," she began, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. "This is Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. I'm trying to locate a van with a specific logo – a saw and the slogan 'let us work for you.' Has anyone brought their van in for that kind of work recently?"
The man on the other end hesitated before responding. "No, ma'am. I haven't seen anything like that."
"Thank you for your time," Morgan said, trying to hide her disappointment.
She hung up and immediately dialed another establishment. She wasn't about to give up, not when something in her gut was telling her she was finally on the right track.
"Hello," she greeted the man who answered, her voice urgent but controlled. "This is Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. I need to ask if anyone came in recently with a request to add a saw logo and the slogan 'let us work for you' to their van?"
"Um," the man hesitated, his uncertainty permeating through the phone. "Yeah, actually. Now that you mention it, someone did come in with that request, just a couple weeks ago."
Morgan's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing. "Can you tell me anything about the person who brought it in? Anything at all could be helpful."
The man racked his brain, trying to recall the details of that particular customer. "He was tall, maybe around six feet. Dark hair, looked to be in his forties. Seemed like an ordinary guy, to be honest."
Morgan's heart raced. If that was true, then this guy could match the description of the man from the AA meeting and the church.
"Really?" Morgan gripped the phone tighter, her voice barely concealing the urgency of the situation. "You're sure about that?"
"Positive," the man replied. "I remember because it was such an odd request. I don't get many folks asking for a saw logo and that slogan."
Morgan took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Can you forward me the customer's information? It's crucial that we find him as soon as possible."
"Uh, I don't know..." The man hesitated, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "It's not really company policy to give out customer details like that."
"Listen." Morgan leaned against the desk, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the phone. "I understand your concerns, but I'm an FBI agent, and I'm fairly certain a woman's life is on the line here. I can come down with a warrant if necessary, but time is of the essence, and I would really appreciate your cooperation."
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Morgan held her breath, waiting for the man to respond. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options.
"Alright," he finally relented, his voice heavy with resignation. "I'll send over what I have. But please, make sure this doesn't come back to bite me or my business."
"Thank you," Morgan said sincerely, relief washing over her. "You're doing the right thing."
Morgan's heart pounded in her chest, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she waited for the man on the other end of the line to make good on his word. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, each tick echoing like a gunshot in her ears. Time was slipping away, and with it, the chances of finding Sarah alive.
"Alright," the man sighed, his voice thick with reluctance. "His name is Greg Folger, and he paid with this credit card number." He rattled off the digits, and Morgan typed them into her computer, her fingers moving with lightning speed.
"Thank you," she said, her voice strained but sincere. "You may have just saved a life."
"Hope so," he murmured before hanging up.
As soon as the line went dead, Morgan pulled up the FBI database, her fingers flying across the keys as she searched for any information on Greg Folger. Breathing hitched in her throat, she scanned the screen, her eyes widening as she found him—a man with a criminal record, his mugshot displaying a gaunt, handsome face framed by dark hair. This was him; he matched the description.
"Got you," she whispered under her breath, her determination steeling her resolve. She leaned back in her chair, taking a moment to study the man staring back at her from the screen. If this Greg Folger was indeed their kidnapper, he had made a mistake—a crucial one that now put him within Morgan's reach.
A chill ran down Morgan's spine as she skimmed Greg's file in the database. The words seemed to leap off the screen, taunting her with their twisted revelations. She couldn't shake the image of young Greg, his head held under the water by the very person who was supposed to protect him. The horror he must have felt then, she thought, might be a mirror image of what Sarah was experiencing now.
"Damn," she whispered to herself, feeling the urgency knot tighter in her chest. She couldn't afford to waste any more time. Snapping the laptop shut, she grabbed the printed mugshot and hurried back to the interrogation room. Her heart hammered in her ears, drowning out the buzz of activity around her as agents and officers scrambled to follow leads and coordinate efforts to find Greg Folger.
Bursting into the room, she found Jessica still huddled in the corner, clutching her blanket like a lifeline. Her wide, fearful eyes fixed on Morgan, searching for some glimmer of hope.
"Jessica, I need you to look at this," Morgan said, holding up the picture of Greg. Her voice was low but firm, the tone of someone used to getting answers. "Is this the man who took you and Sarah?"
Jessica hesitated for a moment before reaching out with trembling fingers to take the photo. She stared at it, her breath hitching as her eyes filled with tears.
"Yes," she choked out, her voice barely audible. "That's him."
"Thank you, Jessica," Morgan replied, trying to keep her own emotions in check. She forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand. "I promise you, we're going to find Sarah and bring that bastard to justice."
As she turned to leave the room, Morgan couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her. The lives of two innocent women rested in her hands, and every second that ticked by brought Sarah closer to a fate she couldn't bear to imagine. She knew the stakes, and she knew the odds were against her, but failure wasn't an option.
Now that they had his identity, they could get the plate and put out a proper APB.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The golden light of the setting sun glinted off Morgan's windshield, momentarily blinding her. She squinted against the glare, gripping the steering wheel tighter until her knuckles turned white. Her foot pressed down hard on the accelerator, sending the car hurtling down the highway at a dangerous speed.
"Come on, come on," she muttered to herself, her eyes darting back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror, searching for any sign of the van. "Where are you?"
As the miles flew by, panic began to set in. Had they lost him? Was Sarah still alive? She couldn't bear the thought of losing another innocent person to this monster—not after everything she'd been through herself.
In moments like these, memories of her time in prison would surface—memories of dark, cramped cells and the sickening smell of fear that clung to the air. It was those experiences that had made her who she was today: a fiercely determined woman who refused to let the darkness win.
As Morgan pulled into the rural lakeside community, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the narrow streets. Her hands were clammy on the wheel as she scanned the area for Greg's van. The quietness of the place was eerie, as if every resident had locked themselves away to escape the terror lurking outside.
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