For Wrath, page 9
Another victim had been claimed.
As much as Morgan had tried to find answers, she had been too late, too off. And now someone else was dead.
She cursed herself for not acting fast enough.
"Agent Cross," a uniformed officer greeted her as she approached the entrance. "I'm Officer Reynolds. Let me show you inside."
"Thank you, Officer," Morgan replied, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she followed him through the front door.
The interior of the house was as different from the previous victims' homes as its exterior. Soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with natural light, highlighting the bold, modern art adorning the walls. Morgan's eyes were drawn to a giant photograph dominating one wall; it depicted a young woman with an intense, piercing gaze.
"Who's that?" Morgan asked, subtly gesturing towards the photo.
"Ah, that would be Ella Van Sant, our victim." Officer Reynolds paused, taking a moment to study the self-portrait before continuing. "She was quite the influencer. She had a large following online and was known for her artistic talents."
Morgan studied the photo, trying to connect the vibrant young woman staring back at her with the lifeless body she would soon examine. Despite having seen countless crime scenes over the years, the thought still sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly led someone to target such a young woman like Ella. Was this really the same killer? Both Sheryl and Bethany had been over forty. Ella was wealthy, but she was still a deviation from the profile.
"Let's see the body," she said, steeling herself for the gruesome scene that awaited her. As she followed Officer Reynolds deeper into the house, her mind raced with possibilities, but she knew better than to let her imagination run wild. Facts and evidence would lead her to the truth – even if the path was a dark and twisted one.
Officer Reynolds led Morgan into the living room, where Ella's lifeless body lay sprawled across the floor. Even with years of experience under her belt, Morgan couldn't help but flinch at the sight before her. Ella's once-beautiful face was twisted and mutilated, pulled into a grotesque, makeshift facelift that bore an eerie resemblance to the previous victims.
"Jesus," Morgan breathed, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. She crouched down beside Ella's body, careful not to disturb any evidence as she examined the horrifying scene. "This is definitely our guy – same MO as the other two. Except for her age."
"That's right," Officer Reynolds said, his voice tight with tension. "From what I understand, Ella Van Sant was only twenty-three. The other two victims were over forty."
Morgan frowned, her mind racing with questions. Why would the killer change targets so drastically? Did they know Ella personally, or was this simply a matter of opportunity?
"Did Ella ever get plastic surgery?" Morgan asked, hoping to find a connection between her and the other victims.
"According to our records, no," Reynolds replied, shaking his head. "We looked into it, based on your running theory, but there's no indication she ever had any work done."
"Then why her?" Morgan mused aloud, her brow furrowing in frustration. The pieces weren't fitting together. She glanced around the room, taking in the lavish surroundings and expensive art that adorned the walls – none of which seemed to offer any answers.
"Maybe it's a message," suggested Officer Reynolds hesitantly. "You know, like he's trying to tell us something."
"Or maybe it's just random," Morgan countered, her voice edged with bitterness. She'd seen enough senseless violence in her time to know that sometimes, there was no rhyme or reason behind a killer's actions. But these killings were not random crimes of passion. They were deliberate, staged. There was definitely a message here, something to do with women's faces, but Morgan failed to see what it was. Both Sheryl and Bethany had work done, but if Ella didn't... then why her? The change in MO made Morgan's head spin.
As she stared at Ella's mutilated face, Morgan felt an unshakable sense of dread wash over her. She could almost see the killer's twisted grin as he cut into his victim, savoring every moment of her pain and terror. Whoever this monster was, he clearly wouldn't stop until he was caught.
"Let's get this crime scene wrapped up," Morgan said, pushing herself to her feet. "I want to find this bastard before he strikes again."
***
Morgan stepped outside of Ella Van Sant's house, the harsh sunlight cutting through the gloom that had settled in her mind. The crime scene's grisly images lingered, but she shook them off, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment.
As she crossed the immaculate lawn, a distraught woman approached her, tears streaming down her face.
"Excuse me, are you with the FBI?" she called out, her voice strained by grief.
Morgan turned to her with a frown. "I am. You shouldn't be here." Behind them, the house was being caution taped off, and officers were milling about.
"I'm Maggie, Ella's girlfriend," the woman said. "We live here together."
Morgan studied the woman, noting her red-rimmed eyes and trembling hands. Her heart went out to Maggie, but she also knew this woman could potentially hold crucial information.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Maggie," Morgan said. "Can I ask where you were last night?"
"Out of town," Maggie choked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Ella was home alone. If I'd been here, maybe I could've done something. Maybe she'd still be alive."
So far, all three victims had been home alone at the time they were taken and killed. That was another common thread.
"You can't blame yourself for what happened, Maggie. It's important we focus on finding the person responsible."
Morgan's eyes narrowed as she noticed Maggie fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater, a clear indication that there was something else on her mind. Even through the wall of grief and shock, Morgan could see that this woman held a secret. And there was one thing she needed to know that would clearly link this murder with the others.
"Maggie," Morgan started, "did Ella ever have any work done?”
“Work?” Maggie asked hesitantly.
“Cosmetic surgery,” Morgan said.
Maggie went quiet, averting her eyes. “No… no, of course not.”
“Are you sure?” Morgan lifted a brow. She couldn’t help but feel like Maggie was hiding something. “It’s important that I know this, Maggie. The other two women targeted by this killer got cosmetic surgery.”
Maggie bit her lip, hugging herself. “It was so important to Ella to keep it a secret,” she whispered. “No one can know.”
Morgan’s heart raced. Finally, she was getting somewhere. “Go on,” Morgan said.
Maggie took a breath. "She'd been secretly having miniature facelifts—threads pulled into her forehead to lift her eyebrows and make her look more like an influencer."
The unexpected detail caught Morgan off guard. Ella was far too young to be getting facelifts, but Morgan was also unaware of the specific procedure Maggie was talking about. It sounded like it wasn't about looking younger but looking different.
Either way, this information changed everything. Because even though Ella was much younger than the other women, they all had something in common: they all got plastic surgery.
"Did anyone else know about these surgeries?" Morgan asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.
"Only me," Maggie whispered, looking down at her trembling hands. "Ella trusted me with her secrets. Even now, I feel bad telling you, but... I also saw that there were other women being killed like this on the news."
Morgan stood facing Maggie, the sun casting long shadows on the lawn. The faint scent of freshly cut grass filled her nostrils as she took a deep breath, preparing herself for what might come next.
"I don't know if it's relevant or helpful at all," Maggie said, "but here." She pulled out her phone and scrolled through a series of text messages. "This is from Ella to me." She handed the device to Morgan, who read the conversation with growing concern.
"Stopped going after things went wrong," Morgan read aloud. "What went wrong?"
"It was at Vitality Clinic," Maggie replied hesitantly. "I don't know a whole lot, but a guy there agreed to work on Ella off the record and under the table for extra money. I always thought it was sketchy, but Ella insisted." Tears welled up in her eyes once more. "I don't know the name of the doctor or if he was even legit."
Morgan's heart pounded in her chest. This could be the lead they needed to catch the killer. But first, she needed to determine the clinic's connection to the previous victims. She handed the phone back to Maggie, her resolve hardening.
"Thank you, Maggie," Morgan said, her voice firm and steady. "You've been a huge help. I'll do everything in my power to find justice for Ella." With a nod, she left Maggie standing on the lawn, tears streaming down her face.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Morgan sat in her car, the leather seat sticking to her skin as the afternoon sun beat down. She glanced over at the imposing glass and steel structure that housed Vitality Clinic. The pristine exterior and well-manicured landscaping did little to ease her growing sense of unease.
"Let's see what we can find before we go knocking," she muttered, flipping open her laptop. Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she navigated through the FBI database.
"Alright, Ella Van Sant was definitely here," Morgan whispered to herself, her eyes scanning the screen. "But what about the other victims?" She knew Bethany Good had only ever gone to one surgeon, who had been cleared. She focused on Sheryl Stewart's financial records instead.
"Come on, give me something..." Morgan's heart raced as she scrolled through the long list of clinics Sheryl had visited. The woman had a penchant for plastic surgery, it seemed, but there was no clear connection to Vitality Clinic.
"Damn," she muttered under her breath, frustration mounting.
Morgan leaned back in her seat, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple as she stared at the clinic. If there was a link, it was hidden beneath layers of deception. But she couldn't shake the feeling that this place held the key to solving the case.
Alright, new plan, she decided, her jaw set with determination. She began researching any lawsuits or issues surrounding the clinic, anything that might hint at illegal tools or practices. Maggie's words echoed in her mind, making her gut twist with anticipation.
"Someone here has a secret," she whispered, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the clinic's entrance. "And I'm going to find it."
Morgan's fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes scanning the screen with laser-sharp focus. She could feel the pressure mounting as she sifted through pages of search results, each click bringing her deeper into a web of deceit and deception.
"Come on," she muttered to herself, her jaw clenching in determination. "There has to be something here."
And then, like a bolt of lightning, she found it. A small but damning collection of complaints against the clinic. Women who had undergone procedures at Vitality Clinic, only to have their lips grotesquely swollen and distorted, forcing them to seek corrective surgeries at other establishments.
"Gotcha," Morgan whispered, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She knew in her gut that one of the doctors at the clinic was responsible for the horrifying murders. But the accusations never led to any legal action, leaving the clinic unscathed and still open for business.
Someone's protecting them, she thought, her heart racing. But I won't let them get away with this.
Morgan slammed her laptop shut, the sound echoing in the confined space of her car. Her mind raced as she considered her next move, her instincts urging her to confront the doctors directly. But she knew she needed more than just her gut feeling to bring them down; she needed hard evidence to prove their guilt.
"Alright, think, Morgan," she said to herself, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You've got the connection to the clinic, the victims, and the botched surgeries. Now you just need the final piece of the puzzle."
As she stared at the imposing façade of Vitality Clinic, her resolve hardened further. She wouldn't rest until the person responsible for the brutal killings was brought to justice, no matter how deep she had to dig into the darkness lurking beneath the surface.
It was time to pay these doctors a visit. And find out once and for all who was behind these murders."
With that, Morgan exited her car, her every step filled with purpose as she approached the clinic's entrance. The cold, sterile interior beckoned her in, promising secrets and revelations just waiting to be uncovered.
Let's see what you're hiding.
***
The wind whipped at Morgan's hair as she stormed through the glass doors of Vitality Clinic, her eyes narrowing in on the only person occupying the room. A young man, no older than twenty, sat behind the reception desk, his nametag reading 'Matt.' He looked up from his phone, startled by her sudden entrance.
"Can I help you?" Matt asked hesitantly, clearly taken aback by her intense gaze.
"Special Agent Morgan Cross, FBI," she announced, flashing her badge. "I'm here to speak with the doctors who work here." Her tone was firm and left no room for argument.
"Uh... well, they're not in right now," Matt replied nervously, his fingers fumbling with a pen. "Can I take a message or something?"
Morgan leaned across the counter, giving him a cold stare that probably sent shivers down his spine. She could sense his apprehension and decided it was time to push him further. "I'm investigating three murders linked to the world of plastic surgery," she said, her voice icy. "I believe someone here may be involved."
It was like a switch had been flipped. Matt's eyes widened in terror, and he began to stammer out his words. "I-I didn't know anything about that! I just started working here a few months ago. I swear I don't know anything!"
Morgan studied him for a moment, his fear radiating off of him. It wasn't often that she found herself intimidating others, but she'd learned over the years how to use it to her advantage when necessary. With this newfound leverage, she pressed further. "Then tell me about the doctors who work here. Who should I be looking into?"
"Alright, alright," Matt conceded, his voice shaking. "There are two main doctors here - Dr. Sanders and Dr. Kim. They've both been working here for years, but I don't know much about them. I just handle appointments and paperwork."
"Are there any other doctors affiliated with this clinic?" Morgan asked, her mind racing with thoughts of the victims and their connection to this place.
"Um, well," Matt hesitated, swallowing hard. "There was another guy who used to work here, but he left a while ago. I didn't really know him. His name was Dr. Blanchard, I think."
Morgan's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name. The pieces were starting to come together, but she still needed more information. She could feel herself getting closer to uncovering the truth behind these brutal murders, and she couldn't let up now.
"Tell me everything you know about Dr. Blanchard," she demanded, her eyes never leaving Matt's face.
"Like I said, I didn't really know him," Matt repeated nervously. "He was here before I started, and I only heard some stories from the other staff. I think he did some procedures under the table, you know, for extra cash. But that's all I know, I swear."
Morgan's mind raced as she tried to piece together what Matt had just told her. Dr. Blanchard had left the clinic but was rumored to perform illegal procedures for extra money. Could he be the one responsible for the murders?
"Oh, man," Matt murmured, his head hanging low. He was clearly cracking, and Morgan needed to know what he was hiding.
"You don't have to protect him," Morgan said. "Or anyone else who works here. Matt, if you tell me what you know now, I promise you won't get in trouble."
Matt took a breath. "You promise?"
Morgan held heads. "Sure. I promise." But it depended on what he told her, of course.
Matt shook his head, sighing. "Damn it. Okay. I lied; I've worked here for a long time. But, the incident--it was an accident," Matt blurted out suddenly, his eyes widening in fear. "We didn't know she would die."
Morgan's brow furrowed as she studied the young man before her. His face had gone pale, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "Who are you talking about?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
"Casey Waters," he replied, swallowing hard. "Isn't that why you're here? To investigate her death?"
Morgan frowned, taken aback by this unexpected revelation. Casey Waters wasn't one of their victims, and she'd never heard of her. She wondered if this was another lead or just a lie meant to throw her off track.
"Casey Waters is not one of the victims I'm investigating," Morgan said slowly, her mind racing with questions. "But tell me more about her. What happened to her?"
Matt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Morgan's piercing gaze. "I don't know all the details," he admitted, wringing his hands. "She came here for a treatment last year, some kind of filler injection. But something went wrong, and she ended up dying from complications."
"Did Dr. Blanchard work on her?" Morgan asked, her voice tense as she tried to piece together the puzzle.
"Y-yes," Matt stammered, clearly intimidated by Morgan's intense focus. "He did the procedure, but like I said, it was an accident. We didn't know what would happen."
Morgan took a deep breath, trying to process this new information. If Casey Waters had died under Dr. Blanchard's care, it added another layer to the already complex case. Her instincts told her there was a connection between Blanchard and the murders she was investigating, but she needed more evidence to prove it.
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