Page 24 of Forever

"Fine," Morgan replied curtly, her mind already racing on to the next steps. She couldn't trust an anonymous tip – especially one that seemed so calculated to unsettle her – but the implications were too significant to ignore.

Shaking hands retrieved her jacket from the booth, the half-eaten BLT sandwich forgotten. As she shrugged into the garment, Morgan couldn't help but think back to the conversations she'd had with her father before he passed. He'd always been cryptic about his past profession, evading every question with a skill she could only now recognize as professionally honed.

Could he have been an agent like me?

No, it was ridiculous. He would have told her. There was no way he would have taken that to the grave. Her father loved her, trusted her--he would have told her.If my father was an agent, and it ended badly for him, did his enemies come after me? Did they frame me for murder?she pondered, the questions gnawing at her insides like a ravenous beast. Her father couldn't have been an FBI agent, she was certain of it. He was a quiet man. The anonymous call had to be a sick prank, and the only person who knew where she would be at that moment was Derik.

"Enough," she whispered to herself, her voice tense and strained. She gathered her belongings and stormed toward the exit, the door jingling as she pushed through it. Outside, the sun cast long shadows on the pavement, streaks of gold and darkness blending together like the swirling thoughts inside Morgan's head. Morgan's grip on her phone tightened as she stood outside the diner, the wind whipping strands of her hair across her face. The metallic taste of anger mixed with confusion flooded her mouth as she punched Derik's number into her phone. The paperwork in her other hand crumpled under the force of her emotions.

"Derik," Morgan spat out before he could even say hello. "Do you think it's funny to mess with me? Calling my diner with some twisted story about my father?"

"Whoa, Morgan, hold on," Derik replied, clearly taken aback by her anger. "I didn't call you. I swear."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared off into the distance, processing his words. She wanted to believe him, but her gut instinct whispered otherwise. "Right," she scoffed. "This is just a coincidence, then? You knew I'd be here, and now someone calls with information about my past? Seems pretty convenient."

"I promise, it wasn't me," Derik insisted, genuine concern lacing his words. "But if it wasn't me, then who was it?"

Morgan bit her lip, considering the possibilities. If it wasn't Derik, then did that mean the call was genuine? Or was someone else trying to manipulate her? She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. Morgan clenched her fist, the anger surging through her veins like a wildfire.

"I don't believe you," she spat bitterly, clenching her teeth. "Just stay away from me, Derik."

"Wait, Morgan—" Derik's protest was cut short as she disconnected the call, leaving him on the other end with only the sharp beep of the line going dead.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Morgan stared at her phone for a moment before shoving it into her pocket. She stood outside the diner, lost in thought, the soft glow of the neon sign flickering overhead, casting a reddish hue on the pavement.

"Trust no one," she whispered to herself, her father's old advice echoing in her ears. It was a mantra that had served her well during her time in prison – but now, out in the world once more, she found herself questioning everything, including her ability to know whom she could rely on.

She shook her head, forcing her thoughts back on track. There was work to be done, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down – not with lives at stake.

Determinedly, she strode across the parking lot to her car, the gravel crunching beneath her shoes. As she slid behind the wheel, she glanced around, taking note of the other vehicles and people milling about. Paranoia gnawed at her, making her hyper-aware of everything around her.

She needed to stay sharp and keep her emotions in check. Whoever this mysterious caller was, they had managed to get under her skin – but she couldn't let them win. She had to find this killer before they struck again, and uncovering the truth behind the call would be part of that.

As she pulled out of the parking lot, her resolve hardened, matched only by the steely determination in her eyes. She would not let this caller manipulate her, nor would she allow Derik's presence to compromise her investigation. Right now, she had to find the man who was drowning those women.

There had to be something she’d missed in the case files. Whatever it was, she was going to find it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Morgan sat hunched over her kitchen table, the glow of her laptop screen casting angular shadows on her face. A half-empty cup of cold coffee sat untouched next to her as she flipped through a stack of files that seemed to spill out from every corner of the table like a paper waterfall. Skunk was curled up at her feet, his gentle snores punctuating the otherwise quiet room.

"Come on," Morgan muttered under her breath, scanning the documents with her hardened eyes. She was searching for a connection between Stacy Cox, Martha McTavish, and Amber Jade - but so far, the thread remained elusive. Her mind continued to circle back to the AA meeting where Stacy had been last seen, leaving with an unknown man in his forties. Was he the key to all of this? Or just another dead end?

Letting out a sigh, she decided it was time to follow up on Amber Jade. With no family or friends to contact, her only lifeline was her physician, Dr. Stone. Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed his number, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table as she waited for him to pick up.

"Dr. Stone speaking," came the voice on the other end.

"Dr. Stone, this is Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. I'm investigating the death of one of your patients, Amber Jade," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, despite her frustration.

"Oh, goodness, yes," he said. "I received word of Amber's passing. It's tragic."

"She was the victim of homicide, yes, and she was not the first victim. I understand you were Amber's physician. Can you tell me anything about her life that might help me understand what happened to her?"

There was a pause before Dr. Stone replied, his voice guarded. "I treated Amber, yes, but I can't share personal medical information without proper authorization."

"Of course," Morgan said, quickly assuring him that she had the necessary clearance. "We're just trying to piece together any possible connections between these women, and any information you have could be crucial. It doesn't have to be anything medical--I'm merely trying to understand who Amber was as a person."

Dr. Stone hesitated for a moment longer before relenting. "Well, Amber didn't have any close friends or family, as far as I know. She was a private person, but we had built up a rapport over the years. It's tragic what happened to her."

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