For Now, page 3
"Your guess is as good as mine," Morgan replied, snapping another photo. "We haven't found a clear cause of death yet, but it's obviously not a natural death like the local cops thought. This was planned, executed with precision."
Derik straightened, his eyes locked on Morgan's. "I'll go notify the relatives – see if they know anything about who could have done this or why."
Morgan nodded. Derik turned on his heel and left her alone with the corpse and her thoughts. As she continued to document the scene, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that a predator lurked just out of sight. She glanced around, one hand resting on her gun, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
***
Morgan crouched beside Mary Jenkins's lifeless body, committing it to memory one last time before standing upright. She had gathered all she could for now and knew she had to move on from the crime scene. As much as she wished for it to be that easy, she had a feeling the crime scene alone wasn't going to tell her who killed Mary Jenkins. That was going to require a lot more leg work.
"Hey, Morgan," Derik called out as he approached her, breaking her concentration.
"Did you speak to the family?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the scene before her.
"Yeah, I notified her children. They both live out of state – a son and a daughter," Derik informed her, his voice tinged with sadness. “It seems they didn’t see her very much.”
Morgan glanced up at him, her expression somber. "That's tragic. She lived the end of her life alone and scared." She shook her head, feeling a pang of empathy for the woman.
"Seems like it," Derik agreed. "But the daughter said she's visiting a friend not far from here. She's planning to come into town so we can talk to her."
Morgan looked back down at Mary, her eyes narrowing as she committed every detail of the scene to memory. The dress, the expression on Mary's face, even the shape of her gold earrings... like tiny swallows. All things Morgan wanted to remember, and never forget. Not until her killer was behind bars.
"Where do you want to start?" Derik asked, faltering slightly under the intensity of her gaze.
"Her home," she said decisively. "We need to see if there's anything there that can help us understand why someone would do this to her. Maybe she had enemies we don't know about." Morgan gazed over at Skunk, who was patiently waiting for her nearby. She gestured to him. “We’re gonna have to bring some company.”
Derik spotted Skunk and nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll drive.”
As Morgan and Derik walked away from the crime scene, she couldn't help but think about Mary's children. They were absent from their mother’s life, and now they would never have the chance to make amends. She wondered if they would regret not being there for her when it mattered most.
***
Morgan sat in the passenger seat of Derik's car, her eyes focused on the passing cityscape as they drove through Dallas. Skunk lay in the backseat, his nose pressed against the window, watching the world go by. The ride had been quiet and awkward, with neither of them speaking since they left the crime scene.
"Turn right up here," Morgan said suddenly, breaking the silence. Derik glanced at her before following her directions. As they traveled down the unfamiliar streets, Morgan couldn't help but think about Mary Jenkins and the strange circumstances surrounding her death. She couldn't shake the feeling that Mary's teeth held a crucial piece of evidence, but she couldn't figure out what it was.
"Want some music or something?" Derik asked, reaching for the radio dial.
"No, thanks," Morgan replied curtly, still lost in her thoughts. It still felt off to work with Derik as though nothing had happened between them, even though as far as Morgan was concerned, he was still her enemy. She couldn't trust him. Even if he claimed that he didn't actually know the identities of those who framed her, that didn't mean he was telling the truth. Derik had lied about so many things, and Morgan didn't forgive or forget easy.
"Okay," Derik said quietly, pulling his hand back from the radio. Morgan could feel the tension between them, but she didn’t want to give it too much breath.
As they continued driving, Morgan found herself reflecting on her own life and how she ended up here, working alongside someone she used to trust implicitly. She wondered if they would ever be able to move past the betrayal and find a way to work together effectively. The silence in the car was suffocating, with only the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of Skunk's tail against the backseat providing any semblance of sound. Morgan stared out the window, watching as the Dallas cityscape blurred by. Her jaw clenched involuntarily, muscles tense with suppressed irritation.
"Are you really still talking to that new guy? Thomas?" Derik suddenly blurted out, not quite able to mask the jealousy in his voice. Morgan's grip on the door handle tightened, her knuckles turning white. She turned her head to face him, her eyes narrowing.
"Things have changed between you and I, Derik. We're partners, nothing more. My personal life is none of your business," she replied tersely, her voice ice-cold.
Derik winced at her words, clearly hurt. "Can't we at least talk? Like we used to?"
Morgan huffed a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You have a son, Derik. Maybe you should be more worried about being a present father," she retorted, the sting of betrayal still fresh in her mind. The mention of his son seemed to hit home, and Derik's face fell, his gaze returning to the road ahead. Silence enveloped the car once more, heavy and oppressive.
As they continued to drive, Morgan couldn't help but replay their conversation in her mind. She knew she had been harsh, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize. Too much had happened between them, too many lies and secrets for her to ever trust him again. She sighed quietly, her breath fogging up the window. If only things could have been different if only they could go back to the way they were before everything fell apart.
But life wasn't like that, and Morgan knew it. They would have to move forward, somehow, and find a way to work together despite their fractured relationship. She glanced over at Derik, his face tight with unspoken pain and regret. As much as she wanted to despise him, she couldn't deny that there was still a part of her that cared for him. After all, he had been there for her when she was in prison... he was the only one who came to see her aside from her father. For all those years, Morgan had lived in that cage, knowing that she had people on the outside. But then her dad died before she was released, and now she didn't even know who Derik truly was.
It was easier to keep hating him and to keep reminding herself that their relationship was broken beyond repair.
The car pulled up to the curb outside of Mary Jenkins's home, a quaint bungalow with a well-tended garden. Garden gnomes stood guard like sentinels on the front lawn, their faces chipped and faded from the sun. Morgan opened the car door, the afternoon heat billowing in as she stepped out of the car. Skunk immediately jumped out after her, eager for some fresh air.
"Stay close," she murmured to the dog, securing his leash to her wrist. The tension between her and Derik still hung heavy in the air, but she refused to let it distract her from the task at hand. She needed answers about Mary's death, and she was determined to find them – with or without Derik's help.
As they approached the front door, Morgan noticed that one of the garden gnomes had been knocked over, its ceramic hat cracked on the ground. She frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in her gut.
"Something's not right here," she whispered, more to herself than to Derik. She reached out and knocked firmly on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
"Hello?" Derik called out, his voice strained. "It's the FBI. Is anyone inside?”
There was no answer, only the distant hum of cicadas hidden in the trees. Morgan tried the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked. To her surprise, it turned easily beneath her grip, and the door creaked open.
"Stay alert," she warned Derik, her eyes scanning the dimly-lit interior. They stepped inside, Skunk padding cautiously beside her.
"Hello?" Morgan called out again, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety. There was still no response, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
Morgan stepped further into the bungalow, Skunk by her side. The air was stale and heavy with the scent of old books and mothballs. Her eyes darted around the living room, taking in the dusty shelves filled with faded family photos and knickknacks collected over a lifetime. A sense of melancholy settled over her as she realized just how isolated Mary must have been.
"Derik, look at this," Morgan said softly, motioning towards a cluster of framed pictures on an end table. "Her kids... they're not in any recent photos." She frowned, feeling a surge of anger toward Mary's absent children. "They should've been here for her."
Derik nodded but didn't say anything, his expression solemn. They continued to explore the house, methodically moving through the rooms in search of any clues that might shed light on Mary's bizarre death.
As they entered the hallway, Skunk suddenly stopped in his tracks, his ears perked up. He approached a closed door, sniffing intently before scratching at it with a low whine.
"Skunk?" Morgan asked, concern lacing her voice. "What is it, boy?"
"Something's got him worked up," Derik observed, his brows furrowing as he studied the dog.
Morgan reached for the doorknob, her heart pounding in anticipation, and slowly turned it.
The door creaked open, revealing a small study cluttered with stacks of papers and boxes.
Morgan's breath caught in her throat as she swung the door open, revealing a dimly lit bedroom. The first thing that hit her was the metallic scent of blood, an unmistakable odor that made her stomach churn. Her eyes darted to the bed in the center of the room, its once-white sheets soaked crimson.
"Jesus Christ," Derik muttered, his hand flying to cover his nose and mouth.
CHAPTER THREE
Skunk whined softly, the fur on his back bristling as he pressed closer to Morgan's leg for comfort. She could feel her own pulse pounding in her ears as she took a step into the room, her FBI training kicking in, despite the horror clawing at her insides.
She studied the grisly scene, taking in every detail – the way the blood had pooled beneath the mattress, the haphazard slashes through the fabric, and the trail of smeared red leading towards the door. It was as if the killer had been in a hurry, leaving behind a macabre mess in their wake.
"Could it be some kind of ritual?" Derik suggested, his voice muffled by his sleeve. "A sick calling card?"
Morgan frowned, considering the possibility. "Maybe, but why move her body afterward? Why leave her in a sandbox for everyone to see, with her teeth glued back in place?"
"Maybe they wanted us to find her," Derik proposed hesitantly. "To send a message."
"Then what's the message?" Morgan asked, frustration bubbling up inside her. "What are we missing here?"
Derik shook his head, his face grim. "I don't know. But I think we need to look closer at Mary's life. See if there was anyone who had a motive to do this to her."
Morgan nodded thoughtfully, her mind already turning over the possibilities. She couldn't understand why somebody would target a seemingly docile elderly woman.
As she scanned the room once more, her eyes settled on a stack of papers on a nearby desk. Without a second thought, she approached it and began rifling through the documents. It didn't take long for her to find something that made her stomach drop – a letter from Mary's late husband.
"Derik, come look at this," she called out, her voice laced with urgency.
Derik joined her at the desk, his eyes scanning the letter as Morgan read it aloud. "Mary, I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry... I don't have much time left, as they said the cancer has spread through my blood. I'm writing this from the hospital, the way we used to write... no technology. I regret what I did to us and our children. I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me."
"Damn," Derik muttered. "What do you think he did?"
Morgan shook her head, feeling a sense of sadness wash over her. "I don't know, but it's clear that Mary was on the fence about forgiving him. According to the date, this was sent a couple of weeks ago. I wonder if the husband is still alive."
"But why would this have anything to do with her murder?" Derik asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Morgan shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I do know that unresolved issues from the past can sometimes come back to haunt us."
Derik nodded in agreement. "Let's see if we can find anything else that might give us some insight into Mary's life. Maybe we'll stumble upon something that will shed some light on her death."
They continued to search the room, combing through the stacks of papers and boxes. Morgan's heart ached as she realized just how lonely Mary's life had been, how little she had left behind. It was a stark reminder that life was fleeting and that nobody was immune to its cruel twists and turns.
Just then, Skunk's sudden pawing at the area beneath the bed startled Morgan from her thoughts. She glanced down, her heart racing as the dog continued to scratch and whine insistently. Trusting his instincts, she grabbed a latex glove from a nearby evidence kit and snapped it onto her hand.
"Derik," she whispered, "Skunk found something."
As Derik approached, Morgan knelt on the floor, cautiously lifting the dust ruffle to peer into the darkness below the bed. Her eyes darted across the space, searching for anything that might have caught Skunk's attention. And then she saw it: a single, bloodied tooth nestled among the dust bunnies.
"Damn," she muttered, plucking the tooth from its hiding place and dropping it into an evidence bag. "Looks like we missed one."
"Get forensics in here," Derik said, his voice taut with urgency. "And call Mueller. Maybe this tooth belongs to Mary... but maybe it doesn't."
Morgan nodded, already reaching for her phone – but before she could dial, the sound of a door creaking open elsewhere in the house sent a shiver down her spine. She exchanged a tense glance with Derik, their shared concern unspoken. They had searched the house thoroughly before entering the bedroom; there shouldn't have been anyone else inside.
Just as Morgan turned, a woman in her fifties stood frozen in the doorway to the bedroom, her face aghast as she took in the blood-soaked bed.
"Who are you?" Morgan demanded, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "What are you doing here?"
But the woman didn't answer; instead, she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.
***
Morgan and Derik hauled the woman into the living room. The living room was a shrine to a life well-lived – framed photographs lined the walls, portraying Mary Jenkins surrounded by loving family and friends. Morgan couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she helped the woman onto the floral-patterned couch; it seemed so wrong that such a vibrant life had been reduced to this senseless tragedy.
Slowly, the woman’s eyes fluttered open as she came to again, her gaze focusing on Morgan and Derik.
“Who are you?” Morgan asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m… Jennifer,” the woman managed. “Mary’s daughter…”
Morgan’s heart sank. Obviously, Mary’s daughter had rushed into town to see what was going on.
"Here, drink some water," Derik said gently, handing Jennifer a glass. Her hands shook as she took small sips, her eyes darting nervously between the two agents.
"Thank you," Jennifer whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry, I don't usually react like that. It's just... seeing my mother's room like that..."
"Of course," Morgan said, her voice softening. "It's completely understandable. We're sorry for your loss."
Jennifer dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, trying to regain her composure. “I came as soon as I heard what happened. I needed to see if it was real."
"Derik Greene. I spoke with you on the phone earlier," Derik replied, offering a sympathetic smile. "We're doing everything we can to find out what happened to your mother."
Morgan studied Jennifer's face, taking in the lines of grief etched there. She wondered what thoughts must be racing through Jennifer's mind, what memories were playing out behind those tear-filled eyes. She knew she needed to keep the conversation focused on the case, but part of her ached to offer comfort instead.
Morgan glanced around the cozy living room, the scent of stale air and old memories hanging heavy. Family photos adorned the walls, capturing happier times – and the absence of recent ones didn't go unnoticed. She cleared her throat, focusing on Jennifer.
"Jennifer, can I ask why you haven't visited your mother more often?" Morgan inquired gently, her eyes flicking towards a faded photograph of a young Mary with her children.
"Mom... she was very closed off," Jennifer admitted, her voice cracking. "She pushed people away, even her own family. It hurt, but we respected her wishes. She had a very difficult life, and her way of coping was unfortunately avoidance."
Morgan nodded, understanding the complex dynamics of family relationships all too well. "Did your mother have any enemies? Anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?"
Jennifer shook her head, her confusion evident. "No, my mother was a kind woman, just closed off. She didn't have any enemies, not that I know of."
Morgan bit her lip, mulling over the possibilities. She thought of the letter sent from Mary's former husband, and wondered if Jennifer knew anything about it. "What about her ex-husband? Did she ever mention any issues with him?"
Jennifer's eyes widened, and she sat up straighter. "You think it was my father?"
"It's a possibility," Derik interjected. "We just need to explore all avenues."
Jennifer's lips tightened, and her eyes clouded with anger. "My father was a monster. He used to beat my mother, and me and my siblings too. She finally got the courage to leave him, and we never saw him again, but..." Jennifer took a breath. "The last I heard, he was dying. Cancer. Maybe he even did die, I honestly don't know."
_preview.jpg)
