AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Stacy Cox," Morgan muttered under her breath as she scanned the information before her. "Nineteen years old, orphan." She sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy for the young woman. She knew firsthand how cruel life could be, but this girl had faced more than her fair share of adversity. Morgan moved her cursor over Stacy's medical records, confirming what Stew had mentioned earlier about the girl's struggle with alcoholism.
Rehab at seventeen, she noted. She'd attended AA meetings regularly. It seemed that Stacy had been fighting to better herself, but there was one thing that still nagged at Morgan – her relationship with Evan. The two came from very different backgrounds. While Evan grew up in a world of wealth and privilege, it appeared that Stacy had been barely scraping by.
Opposites attract, I guess,Morgan mused, rubbing her temples. But were their differences enough to drive Evan to hurt Stacy? She shook her head, unsure of where to go next in her investigation. Evan had seemed sincere in his care for her, but maybe it was all an act.
Determined to learn more about Stacy's personal life, Morgan turned her attention to social media. She navigated to the young couple's profiles, her fingers tapping quickly on her laptop's touchpad. Scrolling through their timelines, she found pictures of Evan and Stacy together, smiling happily as they posed by the ocean or shared intimate moments over dinner.
"Happy times," Morgan muttered, scrutinizing the images for any signs of underlying tension between them. But all she could see were two people seemingly in love, enjoying each other's company.
She continued scrolling until she came across a post from Evan, declaring his love for Stacy and how proud he was of her progress in overcoming alcoholism. It didn't seem like the words of someone who would want to hurt his partner. As she read the comments, she saw that friends and family had chimed in with supportive messages.
Nothing out of the ordinary. She sighed, feeling frustrated. Her instincts told her there was more to this story, but so far, everything seemed to be pointing towards a happy, loving relationship.
Just then, a sharp knock on the car window pulled Morgan from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw Derik standing outside, one hand resting on the roof of her vehicle as he peered inside. With a sigh of annoyance, Morgan rolled down the window.
"You talk to any witnesses?" she asked.
"Haven't gotten any hits yet, no. Seems like no one saw anything."
Morgan sighed. Then why was he here? "Derik, what do you want?" she asked tersely, trying to keep her frustration in check. She was eager to find a lead in the case, and Derik's presence felt like an unnecessary distraction.
"Hey, I just wanted to see if you'd found anything useful," Derik replied defensively, his hands raised placatingly. "We're supposed to be working together, remember?"
Morgan clenched her jaw, biting back a harsh retort. She knew she needed to focus on the task at hand, not petty arguments with her colleague. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "I'm looking into their relationship. So far, everything seems fine, but I have a feeling there's more to it."
Derik leaned in closer, his eyes softening with genuine concern. "Morgan, if we're going to work this case together, then we need to actually work together." He paused, studying her guarded expression. "We're a team. We can't afford to let any personal issues get in the way of solving this."
Morgan's jaw tightened, but she knew he was right. Their dynamic had become strained over time, and she couldn't deny that it was affecting their ability to work with him. Hell, she didn't even want to work with him. She took a slow, measured breath before replying.
"Alright," Morgan conceded. "You want to help? Look deeper into Evan and his relationship with Stacy. See if you can confirm both of their alibis from last night. I'm going to dig deeper into Stacy's life." Her gaze locked onto Derik's, making her intentions clear. "I want to work alone on that part."
Derik hesitated for a moment, clearly not thrilled with the arrangement. But ultimately, he nodded in understanding. "Fine. Just... keep me updated, alright?"
"Of course," Morgan agreed, forcing a tight smile. As Derik stepped back from the car and walked away, she rolled up the window and refocused on her laptop screen.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she delved further into Stacy's past. The more she uncovered, the more determined she became to bring justice to the young woman whose life had been tragically cut short. And if working closely with Derik was what it took to achieve that, then Morgan would put aside her reservations and do just that—for Stacy's sake, and for the integrity of the investigation.
She turned her attention to her next destination: the church where Stacy attended AA meetings. It was time to dig deeper into the life of the young victim.
***
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the cityscape. As Morgan drove through the city, her thoughts kept returning to Stacy—so young, so desperate to turn her life around. And now, all those dreams had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
A heaviness settled in Morgan's chest as she navigated her way to the church. The neighborhood grew poorer, the buildings more run-down, the streets narrower and more cluttered with debris. This was where Stacy had grown up, where she had fought to survive against all odds.
As she pulled up outside the church, Morgan took a moment to gather herself. The building was old, its bricks weathered and worn, its once-bright paint chipped and faded. A rusted metal fence encircled the property, a single gate creaking in the breeze. Despite its state of disrepair, the church stood tall and proud, a beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak landscape.
Morgan stepped out of her car, her footsteps crunching on the gravel as she approached the entrance. Her eyes scanned the area, taking note of the people who milled about or sat huddled on the church steps. They were a mix of ages and backgrounds, all united by their struggles with addiction.
"Excuse me," she said to a middle-aged man leaning against the fence. "I'm looking for the AA meetings that take place here. Can you point me in the right direction?"
The man looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on the badge clipped to her belt. He hesitated for a moment before nodding toward the church's side entrance. "Through there," he mumbled, turning away as if to distance himself from her authority.
"Thank you," Morgan replied, her voice softening. She knew how intimidating her presence could be, especially in a place like this. But she wasn't here to judge or condemn—she was here to uncover the truth. And if that meant ruffling a few feathers along the way, then so be it.
With renewed determination, Morgan crossed the church courtyard and entered through the side door, leaving the fading light of the sun behind her. Inside, the air was heavy with history and the quiet murmurings of prayer. Morgan followed the sound of voices down a dimly lit hallway, stopping outside a door where she could hear a woman speaking. She knocked lightly and waited for a pause in the conversation before pushing the door open.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said, stepping into the room. "I'm Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. I'm here to speak with the person in charge of the AA meetings."
