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Morgan couldn't help but feel frustrated. She'd be fine on her own. Besides, she had Skunk. Derik knew damn well that Morgan wanted to keep their work as separate as possible... she was being professional, but she still didn't forgive him.
"I'm fine, Derik," Morgan said. "I've got this. I'll connect with you at the precinct later."
"But--"
Morgan swiftly hung up, not caring how Derik felt on the other line. She didn't need him right now.
She sighed, steeling herself for what she was about to do.
"Alright, buddy," she said, closing her laptop and giving Skunk a pat on the head. "We're going to have to dig deeper into this one. I’ll have to drop you off home later, okay, pal?”
Morgan knew that the only way to answer these questions was to continue investigating Amos Lorenzo and his connection to Mary Jenkins. She looked down at Skunk, who wagged his tail in response to her determination.
She was going to find out the truth.
***
Morgan's car pulled up to the curb, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The abandoned dental clinic loomed in front of her, its windows boarded up and walls covered in graffiti. She couldn't help but think that it looked like a haunted house from some old horror movie. A chill ran down her spine as she studied the dilapidated building. As unnerving as this place was, she would still rather be working alone than with Derik. It was just better this way.
Skunk wagged his tail and eagerly followed Morgan out of the car. The wind rustled through the overgrown weeds surrounding the clinic. Morgan walked around the side of the building, searching for any signs that someone had been there recently.
Seems like the state still hasn't gotten their hands on this place, she mused, looking at the boarded-up windows. Maybe there's something useful left inside.
She found a door at the back of the building with a broken lock, evidence that someone had forced their way in before her. With a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, she pried the door open, wincing as it creaked loudly in protest. Skunk squeezed through the gap and began sniffing around, his nose twitching at the musty scent.
"Easy, boy," Morgan whispered, her eyes scanning the dark interior. Her flashlight illuminated peeling paint, cobwebs draped across every corner, and the remnants of a once-bustling dental practice. Old dentist chairs lay on their sides; rusty equipment littered the floor, gleaming dully in the beam of her flashlight.
As she stepped further into the room, her boots crunched on debris scattered across the floor. Skunk let out a low growl, and Morgan reached down to place a reassuring hand on his head. She knew they needed to be cautious, but her gut told her that there might still be something important hidden within these walls - something that could shed light on the connection between Amos Lorenzo and Mary Jenkins.
"Stay close, Skunk," she whispered, feeling an inexplicable sense of dread as she ventured deeper into the abandoned clinic. "We don't know what we might find in here."
Skunk's barking cut through the silence, his growls echoing in the empty room. Morgan's heart pounded as she reached for her weapon, her senses on high alert.
"Quiet, Skunk," she whispered, straining to hear the source of the disturbance. The dog's hackles rose, and he continued to bark, his gaze fixed on the door leading to the next room.
A faint shuffling sound sent a shiver down her spine. Someone was definitely in there. Morgan tightened her grip on her gun, her finger hovering over the trigger. She moved cautiously, each step deliberate and calculated, her eyes darting between the door and Skunk.
The shuffling grew louder, and Morgan's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't see the figure moving in the next room, but she could feel their presence. Skunk threatened to bark again, but contained himself at Morgan's firm hand gesture.
"Easy, boy," Morgan hissed, her eyes scanning the dark room. She could hear the figure moving closer, their footsteps echoing through the empty clinic. But she couldn't identify where the sound was coming from. It seemed to echo throughout the rooms--one moment, she thought it was the room in front of her, the next, beside her. She couldn't just stand here like prey waiting to be captured--she had to make herself known.
"FBI! Show yourself!" Morgan yelled, her voice steady and commanding.
The shuffling stopped, and the building groaned in response. No one answered Morgan's call, and she only heard the sound of the building moaning. She wondered if she and Skunk had imagined what they heard. Wrapping her arm around Skunk, she backed away, her eyes darting around the room for any sign of the intruder. But there was nothing, just an eerie silence that made Morgan's skin crawl.
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the clinic as something shifted upstairs. Morgan spun around at the sound, holding her breath as her flashlight illuminated a set of stairs leading up to a second level. Her heart raced at the thought of going up there alone, but she knew it was pointless to stand in this room waiting for whatever was lurking above to come find her--she'd never know what secrets were hidden within these walls unless she went looking for them herself.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she took one last look around before slowly making her way up the stairs with Skunk close at her heels. As soon as they reached the top step, Morgan could feel a chill in the air that hadn't been present on the first floor; it felt like something sinister lurked in this place - something far more menacing than anything she had encountered before.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Show yourself!"
There was no response, only the sound of her own breathing filling the room. But she knew someone was there, lurking just beyond her line of sight.
"Damn it," she muttered, feeling frustration bubble up inside her. She couldn't let this intruder get away, not when they might hold the key to unraveling the mystery of Mary Jenkins' murder.
Morgan crept up the hallway with Skunk, filled with abandoned office supplies and boxes. Just then, a flicker of movement from behind--and the sound of her dog whining.
Morgan spun around, her gun still raised, and stared at the man before her. His gaunt face was a sickly gray, with thin wisps of hair clinging to his skull.
