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She felt a little sting of memory as they passed by thesmall break room near the back of the building, where, in the early hours ofmorning after closing a case regarding the kidnapping of three siblings, sheand Derik had shared a kiss. It had been brief but passionate…and they’d never kissedagain. In fact, they’d never even mentioned that one kiss.
And that had been fine with her. She hadn’t beeninterested in a relationship with anyone back then…let alone the married manshe was partnered with at work.
Passing by all of this was all too weird, and Morganstarted to wonder if she’d made a mistake by coming back so soon. Memories wereswarming at her like confused, angry bees and she was already tired of feelingthe stings. Still, she remained quiet as she and Derik got a car from the bureaulot.
“So what do you know about the suspect?” Morgan asked asDerik pulled out of the lot. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around howquickly we got results back from the software. Things have changed a lot in tenyears.”
“His name’s Marcus Black,” Derik said. “No known criminalhistory, standard employment record, no social media presence. Seems likemostly a good boy.”
“Any idea why he was by the river that night?”
“Nope. That’s what we need to find out. You saw that inthe information we got back, we have his home and work addresses, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I figured we’d head to his workplace first, being aWednesday morning. Cape Lumber Supplies.”
“Yeah, agreed.”
“And we do have one other lead,” Derik continued. “One ofthe victims was a nurse at the same hospital where Black was treated for abroken arm about eight months ago.”
“But no other direct connections between the victims?”
“No. We’re still cross-referencing all of their data, butso far we haven’t found any clear connections. They all come from differentbackgrounds and have different lifestyles.”
Morgan nodded. “At some point, I want to talk to thefamilies of the victims. Maybe they can shed some light on any connections theymight have had to Black.”
Derik looked at her skeptically. “Do you think it’s him?Do you think Marcus Black might be the so-called Samson? That he might be theSeven Signs Killer?”
She knew what she thought but didn’t want to speak it outloud. What she was thinking was that if this was indeed the guy, it seemed verystrange that they’d find him now, one day after she’d been released fromprison. She also knew there were any number of reasons a random man might beout along the river at night, most having to do with drugs or sexualsituations.
She’d seen suspects like this come and go while she’dbeen on the case before. Some had been incredibly promising and on twooccasions, she’d been certain they’d found Samson. But the evidence wouldalways point in another direction, leaving her and Derik disappointed and withempty hands.
***
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, both of themlost in their own thoughts. Morgan couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu.She was essentially back in the same car, with the same partner, chasing afterthe same killer.
At the same time, there was a feeling of exhilaration tobe in a car again. Even if there wasn’t a case somewhere out there ahead ofthem, the feeling of moving forward so quickly with a set of wheels beneath herwas more rewarding than she’d expected. Driving or even being the passenger ina car was not something she’d thought she’d come out of prison with a newappreciation for…but here she was, feeling like a kid out for a joy ride.
Unsurprisingly, it brought up another memory of herfather. It hit her like a brick right to the side of the head, visions of himtaking her about an hour outside of the city to an old stretch of abandonedfarmland. He’d taught her to drive a stick shift at the age of thirteen, in anold Chevy truck.
She remembered the roads, the fields, the way thetransmission had clunked and screeched at her. Before she knew what was happening,Morgan felt the memory encompass her and she saw every detail clearly.
She was back in that old Chevy truck, sitting next to herfather. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over everything. Morgancould feel the rough texture of the steering wheel beneath her fingers, and thescent of gasoline and oil filling her nose. She could feel the way her father’srough hands had steadied hers on the wheel, the way he’d barked outinstructions as she’d shifted gears for the first time. It had been a bondingmoment for them, one of many.
Her father was patient with her, guiding her through eachstep of the process. And when she finally got the hang of it, he’d grinned ather proudly.
“You okay?”
Derik’s voice pulled her out of the memory, and she was ratherglad for it. Now was not the time to start getting overly emotional.
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, just lost in thought.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Morgan shook her head. “No, it’s nothing. Just a memoryfrom a long time ago.”
She could tell that he wanted to ask her more about it,but he kept quiet. It was a startling reminder of just how well Derik knew her.He knew when to push but, more importantly, when not to.
