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Derik studied her intently for a moment, his gaze filled with a mix of understanding and frustration. "You're my partner. If someone is messing with you, I... I want to help. You know I'd get it. Those men tried to blackmail me, force me to betray you, but we worked it out."
For the first time in a long time, Morgan wanted to be vulnerable. She wanted to ask for help from Derik, of all people.
But she couldn't.
Not yet.
And she needed him to understand that.
"Derik, please," Morgan insisted. Derik's eyes softened, his features reflecting the struggle within him. He reached out and gently cupped her face, his touch warm against her skin.
"I trust you, Morgan," he said, his voice filled with unwavering support. "But promise me this—promise me that when the time comes, you won't hesitate to let me in. We're a team, remember? I'm not going anywhere."
Morgan nodded, tears streaming down her face. She knew deep down that Derik was right. She couldn't face this alone forever. But for now, protecting those she loved meant keeping them at arm's length.
"Thank you," she whispered, gratitude filling every word. "I promise, when the time is right, I'll let you in." With all that aside, she straightened up, and cleared her throat. "Now, what did you say about that new evidence in the case?"
Derik nodded, his face serious. "Yeah. We might be one step closer to finding Adam Sallow."
Derik pulled out a set of developed photographs from the smashed camera that belonged to Melissa, the first one the killer had murdered. The glossy images shimmered under the dim living room light, revealing blurry glimpses of a face. It wasn't clear, but whoever this person was--was the person who killed Melissa.
Morgan's fingers trembled as she held the photo inches from her face, her breath catching in her throat. The image was grainy and slightly distorted, but there it was: a fleeting glimpse of the killer's face.
That unmistakable scar slashed across his cheek and around his sunken eye socket like a sinister smile.
"Derik," she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from the chilling sight. "The scar..."
She handed the photograph to Derik, who studied it intently. He nodded. "That's him," he said, a mix of dread and determination in his voice. "That's Adam Sallow."
"Without a doubt." Morgan stared at the other photos scattered across the coffee table, her mind racing. How had Sallow managed to stay under their radar for so long?
And more importantly, where was he now?
Morgan's heart pounded in her chest as she analyzed the photographs, her mind desperately searching for any clues that could lead them to Adam Sallow's hideout. The scarred man had eluded them for far too long, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake.
"We need to find him," Morgan said, her voice low and determined. "We can't let him continue this reign of terror."
Derik nodded, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. "Agreed. But where do we start?" Derik looked at the photos again, searching for any clues that might lead them to Sallow's whereabouts. "There must be something here that can help us track him down."
Morgan picked up another photo, examining it closely. There had to be a connection, a pattern, something that could give them an edge. She felt the weight of the case pressing down on her shoulders, pushing her closer to the edge of desperation.
"I don't know," she muttered. "But we should get down to the lab and get the team searching every corner of this city for him. Adam's targeting people with unique features, and maybe if we can find out who he's after, we can find him before it's too late."
Derik nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Morgan's determination. "You're right," he said firmly. "We need to analyze these photos, find any patterns or connections that can lead us to his next target."
Morgan's mind raced as she gathered the photographs, carefully placing them back into an evidence bag. She knew they were dealing with a cunning and elusive killer, one who seemed to have a specific method of choosing his victims.
They needed to think like Adam Sallow if they were going to catch him.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The man stepped back, admiring his work. The girl was perfectly positioned, her lithe body arched just so against the handcrafted nest. Straps of leather held her in place, allowing no room for struggle. She was the final piece, the crowning jewel that would complete his masterpiece.
Years he had spent collecting and preparing, honing his skills, biding his time until everything was ready. Now, the moment had arrived. His pulse quickened as he selected his tools, caressing each scalpel and needle with anticipation.
The girl whimpered, straining against her bonds. "Please, you don't have to do this! Let me go!"
He slid the sharp blade of the scalpel down the girl's cheek, tracing the line where dark met light. She flinched at the cold metal but did not scream. Not yet.
