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The door creaked open, revealing a young woman with reddened eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Her slender frame trembled slightly, and it was clear from her expression that grief had already begun its relentless assault.
"Miss Apple?" Morgan asked gently. "I'm Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI. This is my partner, Agent Derik Greene."
"Y-yes," Cindy stammered, swiping at her tears with a trembling hand. "Please, come in."
Morgan exchanged a glance with Derik before stepping inside, her senses immediately honing in on every detail of the room. The walls were covered in framed photographs, capturing moments of joy and laughter – a stark contrast to the oppressive sorrow that now filled the house.
Cindy stepped aside, inviting Morgan and Derik into the cozy living room. The smell of freshly baked cookies hung in the air, making Morgan's stomach rumble despite the gravity of their visit. She glanced around at the vintage decor, a striking contrast to Cindy's youthful appearance. Floral wallpaper adorned the walls, and a collection of porcelain figurines sat neatly on a wooden bookshelf.
"Your home has an interesting style," Morgan remarked, unable to resist commenting on the nostalgic atmosphere.
Cindy smiled weakly as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Thank you. It belonged to my grandmother. I never really had the heart to change anything after she passed."
Morgan nodded. She understood the sentimental value of preserving memories, especially in a world where so much could be taken away in an instant.
As Morgan wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter. "Cindy, we're here to talk about Gretchen Smith. Can you tell us more about your relationship with her? What kind of person was she?"
Cindy's face brightened at the mention of Gretchen's name, though the sadness in her eyes remained. "Gretchen was one of my most beloved clients. I've been her personal support worker for the past two years. She was such a warm, funny woman. Even when she was in pain or having a difficult day, she always managed to make me laugh."
"Did she have a lot of friends or family?" Morgan asked, trying to gauge the scope of Gretchen's social network.
"Unfortunately, no." Cindy shook her head. "She was quite lonely. Most of her friends had passed away, and she didn't have any children. But Gretchen was very good at finding joy in the little things. She loved to watch old movies and listen to jazz music. Oh, and she had a beautiful smile."
Morgan's gut clenched at the mention of Gretchen's smile, knowing that her killer had stolen it from her. She glanced over at Derik, who was jotting down notes in a small notepad.
"Did Gretchen ever mention any recent conflicts or problems in her life?" Morgan asked, hoping to uncover a lead.
Cindy hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. "Not really. She mostly talked about her past, reminiscing about the good times. As far as I know, she didn't have any enemies."
"Did Gretchen ever mention anything about her dental work?" Morgan asked, careful not to reveal too much. "Anything unusual or out of the ordinary?"
Cindy looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, she did have new dentures fitted recently. She was really happy with them. They made her feel more confident, she said."
"Can you tell us which dental office she went to?" Derik chimed in, pen poised over his notepad.
"Of course," Cindy replied, getting up to fetch a business card from the kitchen counter. "It's Dr. Orchard's Denture Clinic. They're located downtown." She handed the card to Morgan, who scanned the information quickly.
"Thanks, Cindy," Morgan said, her eyes narrowing in determination. "This could be helpful." She stood up abruptly, her instincts telling her that they were onto something. "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."
"Please, find whoever did this to Gretchen," Cindy pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. "She didn't deserve this."
Morgan nodded solemnly. "We'll do everything in our power to bring them to justice."
As they left Cindy's house, Morgan's mind raced with possibilities. The fact that Gretchen had recently been fitted with new dentures couldn't be a coincidence. This time, she wouldn't just ask questions; she was determined to return with the perpetrator in handcuffs.
"Let's head to Dr. Orchard's clinic," she told Derik as they climbed into their car. "I have a feeling we're on the right track."
"Agreed," Derik replied, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. "Something about this case just doesn't sit right with me."
"Me too," Morgan murmured, her fingers tightening around the business card. As the car sped through the streets towards the dental clinic, she went over their conversation with Cindy in her head, searching for any missed details. But one thing was clear: whoever had killed Gretchen and stolen her smile would soon have nowhere left to hide.
CHAPTER NINE
The busy denture clinic hummed with activity as Morgan and Derik stepped inside, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic. Morgan surveyed the scene, taking in the harried dental practitioners darting from one room to another, their focus laser-sharp on their tasks at hand.
"Looks like we're not the only ones having a chaotic day," Derik muttered, adjusting his tie as they approached the reception desk.
"Let's hope that works in our favor," Morgan replied, her eyes narrowing as she took in the young man behind the counter. Anton, according to the name tag pinned to his crisp white shirt, appeared engrossed in his computer screen, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose.
