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"Something on your mind, Cross?" he pressed, his stern eyes boring into hers from across his desk.
Morgan hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. She knew she needed to tread carefully, but the thought of confronting Mueller about her father was too tempting to resist. "Actually, sir," she began, her voice steady. "There is something that's been weighing on my mind."
Mueller raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on," he said, leaning back in his chair.
Morgan took a deep breath before continuing. "I was going through some old family photos recently and I found one of you with my father," she said, watching Mueller's expression closely. "From when you were both young."
Mueller's expression twisted. "Your father? Can I see this photo?"
"I don't have it on me, obviously," Morgan shot back. "I was very surprised and confused by it. You knew my father... and I had no idea."
"I didn't know either, Cross," Mueller said. "What was his name?"
"Christopher Cross," Morgan shot back.
If Mueller knew anything, he wasn't showing it. His expression remained a natural confusion, as though he truly didn't know who she was talking about. Morgan wondered if she'd just made a huge mistake.
"Do you have a photo of the man?" Mueller asked.
Morgan clammed up, realizing that maybe there was more to this than she realized. Was it possible her father had hidden his identity?
Did he change his name?
If Morgan showed a photo of him to Mueller, then... maybe it wouldn't go as she hoped. Maybe she'd be slipping up, letting Mueller know too much.
A knot formed in Morgan's stomach as she considered her options. She could show Mueller a photo of her father and risk exposing herself, or she could keep quiet and continue to investigate on her own. She decided to play it safe for now.
"I don't have a photo with me," she lied, hoping Mueller wouldn't press the issue. "But I'll try to find one and bring it to you as soon as possible."
Mueller seemed to accept her answer for now. "Alright," he said, leaning back in his chair. "It's possible him and I just met casually at some point. I'd have to see his face. Dallas can be a small town sometimes, you know."
Morgan nodded briskly, her mind already working on a plan to find a picture of her father that wouldn't expose too much. She doubted Mueller's explanation, but she knew she couldn't push too hard without risking her already tenuous position in the FBI. "Understood, sir," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll get on that right away."
Mueller nodded, his expression unreadable. "In the meantime, I suggest you focus on the case at hand," he said, his voice low and authoritative. "We can't afford any distractions right now."
Morgan bit back a retort, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. Mueller had been the one to call her in and chastise her, thus distracting her from her search.
"Understood, sir," Morgan replied tersely, giving him a curt nod.
"Dismissed," Mueller said, gesturing towards the door.
***
The setting sun poured in through the living room window as Morgan stepped through the front door of her house, her body aching from the day's events. Skunk greeted her with an enthusiastic wag of his tail and a slobbery lick to her hand. She leaned down to give him a scratch behind the ears, her frustration momentarily forgotten in the comfort of his presence.
"Hey, buddy," she murmured, her voice heavy with fatigue. "I'm sorry I'm late."
Morgan couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at her insides, threatening to consume her. The thought that Derik could have ratted her out to Mueller left a bitter taste in her mouth, making it hard to swallow her anger. Every action she took seemed to be scrutinized, every decision questioned. It was getting harder to do her job when it felt like everyone was against her. On top of that, she had a bad feeling that bringing up her father to Mueller had just been a huge mistake.
With a sigh, she pushed those thoughts aside for the moment and focused on taking care of Skunk. As she filled his bowl with kibble, the sound of the dry food hitting the metal dish echoed throughout the otherwise quiet house. Skunk eagerly devoured the meal, his tail wagging in gratitude.
"Guess we're both hungry, huh?" she said softly, forcing a smile.
She moved to the kitchen and prepared herself a quick dinner – a steaming bowl of soup that would fill her empty stomach and warm her chilled bones. Cradling the hot bowl, she settled into the worn cushions of her couch and opened her laptop, determined to make progress on the case before sleep claimed her.
"Let's see what else we can find out about you, Dr. Orchard," she muttered under her breath, fingers flying across the keys as she searched for any connection between the dentist and Mary Jenkins, the other victim.
Skunk, his belly full, sauntered over to join her on the couch, his warm body a comforting presence against her side. As she sifted through files and statements, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts – frustration with Mueller's reprimand, suspicion towards Derik, and an underlying determination to solve this case no matter what obstacles were thrown in her path.
