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Morgan turned to him, keeping her walls high. "No, Derik, you stay here. Lead the team. Make sure we didn't miss anything. I can do this on my own. And for the record, I really am fine."
Derik hesitated, clearly unsure about leaving Morgan alone. But eventually, he nodded in consent. "All right. But be careful, all right? You know how trouble seems to follow us."
Morgan just smiled at him, the ghost of her unease still haunting her eyes. "I know. I'll be careful."
With that, Morgan made her way back to her car, her mind still churning with thoughts of the crime scene and the mysterious cameraman. She needed to focus on Melissa Grayson's life, talk to those closest to her, and put the rest out of her mind.
But her mind kept circling back to the red feather and the nagging feeling that something was off about the crime scene.
CHAPTER FOUR
Morgan took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she had to do next. She stood on the doorstep of a quaint townhouse in suburban Dallas, her senses tingling as she observed the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers adorning the front yard. She knew that this picturesque scene hid a darker truth – it was here where Melissa Grayson, the murder victim, had lived with her roommate.
If anyone knew what Melissa would have been up to in the days before her death, it would be Tessa.
In her research, Morgan had discovered that Melissa's family lived far from Dallas. She was a transplant from Ohio, but had been living here with Tessa for years now. On paper, Tessa was the closest person in Melissa's life.
Steeling herself, she knocked on the door. Moments later, it swung open to reveal a pretty young woman with flawless makeup, dressed in fashionable clothes. Morgan couldn't help but think of an 'influencer' as she took in the girl's appearance. Yet, the most telling detail was the girl's clueless expression; clearly, she didn't know about her roommate's fate just yet.
"Hi," the girl said, offering a half-smile. "Can I help you?"
"Good morning." Morgan raised her FBI badge, the weight of it heavy in her hand. "I'm Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. Are you Tessa Rosen, Melissa Grayson's roommate?"
Tessa's eyes widened, her perfectly manicured hand covering her mouth. "Yes, that's me. What... what is this about? Is something wrong?"
"I need to talk to you about Melissa," Morgan replied, her voice firm but gentle. "May I come in?"
Tessa was hesitant, taking in Morgan's appearance. "Are you... are you really in the FBI?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You're not another one of those super fans, are you?"
Morgan lifted a brow. It wasn't often that her credibility as an agent was questioned, but Tessa's comment about "superfans" intrigued her. "Unfortunately, I'm not a 'superfan' of anything, Ms. Rosen." Morgan pushed her FBI badge closer to Tessa's face so she could get a closer look. "Again, Special Agent Cross. This is important."
Tessa's eyes flickered from the badge to Morgan's face and back again, finally seeming to accept the truth of the situation. She stepped back and gestured for Morgan to enter.
"Of course, come in," she said, leading the way to a cozy living room furnished with overstuffed sofas and an enormous flat-screen TV. "I'm sorry if I seemed skeptical, it's just... Melissa's not here right now, so..."
Morgan nodded. Her eyes scanned the interior of the house, taking in the modern and feminine decor.
"Please, have a seat," Tessa gestured towards the living room, her voice trembling.
The living room was awash in soft pastels and warm lighting, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the news Morgan had come to deliver. Tessa hurriedly removed her tripod and camera setup from the center of the room, trying to regain some semblance of control over her environment.
"And sorry about this," Tessa said, "I was just filming a video for my social media."
"Not a problem," Morgan cordially replied, settling into the plush couch. She patiently waited for Tessa to finish putting her stuff away before she came and sat down on the loveseat near Morgan. "Tessa, I'm sorry to tell you this," Morgan said, "but Melissa has been found dead."
Tessa gasped and covered her mouth with her delicate hand, tears instantly flooding her eyes. "What? Oh my god," she choked out, "no, no, no... how? When? No, that can't be right. She's... she was fine just yesterday. You're joking, right?"
Morgan shook her head slowly. "I wish it were a joke, Tessa. But I assure you, it isn't. Melissa was murdered, and we need your help to find out why."
For a moment, Tessa seemed unable to process the information. Her hands shook, and she blinked rapidly as if trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Morgan felt a pang of empathy for the young woman – losing a friend was never easy, but the suddenness and brutality of Melissa's death made it all the more difficult to bear.
"No... no, there's just no way," Tessa said.
But as the weight of the news sunk in, the denial was replaced by a raw and frantic grief. She began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving as she broke down into sobs.
Morgan moved closer, placing a hand on Tessa's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Tessa. We'll do everything in our power to find out who did this to Melissa. But we need your help. Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"
Tessa shook her head, her voice muffled by her hands. "No, no... Melissa was always so nice to everyone. She didn't have any enemies. Why would someone do this to her?"
