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As she movedcautiously through the warehouse, the eerie silence was suffocating. Everycreak of the wooden beams overhead and every gust of wind howling through thebroken windows set her nerves on edge. Sweat beaded on her forehead as shestrained her ears for any sign of movement.
A suddenskittering sound echoed through the gloom, causing her heart to leap into herthroat. She whipped around, gun raised, only to find a rat darting away from anold box. She exhaled sharply, cursing under her breath.
Daylight filteredweakly through the shattered windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls andfloor. Despite the faint illumination, the warehouse remained cloaked indarkness, amplifying the unsettling atmosphere. Morgan knew that somewhere inthis decaying labyrinth, John Pesci was waiting for her. And every step shetook brought her closer to him.
Morgan's hearthammered in her chest as she pushed deeper into the decrepit warehouse,clearing one room after another. She tried to focus on the task at hand, buther mind kept drifting back to Harriet Holland, the woman who was depending onher to come out of this alive.
"Where areyou, John?" Morgan muttered under her breath as she scanned each room forany sign of him or the macabre surgical equipment he used to mutilate hisvictims. But there was nothing—just dust and decay, remnants of a time longpast.
As she movedthrough the warehouse, she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched.That feeling sent shivers down her spine, her instincts screaming at her to beon guard. But every corner she turned revealed nothing but empty rooms anddarkness.
Finally, sheentered a room that seemed different from the others. It was bare, save for asingle table standing in the center, illuminated by a shaft of daylightstreaming through a broken window above. The light cast an eerie glow over thetable, making it seem almost otherworldly.
She approachedthe table, her eyes narrowing as they caught sight of something resting on itssurface—a note. Her stomach twisted with apprehension as she reached out andpicked it up, scanning the hastily scrawled words:
YOU SHOULD HAVECOME ALONE.
Morgan clenchedher jaw, furious at herself for falling into John's trap. She should have knownbetter, trusted her instincts. But no, she had let Derik convince her to go bythe book, and now John knew she hadn't come alone.
"Stupid,rookie mistake," she muttered under her breath, crumpling the note andtossing it onto the table with a mixture of disgust and frustration. Her handtrembled slightly as she lifted her phone to her ear, punching in Derik'snumber with more force than necessary.
"Derik, itwas a test," she said as soon as he picked up, not bothering withpleasantries. "John knew I didn't come alone. He left a note saying Ishould have." She could hear her own voice shaking slightly with anger andfear—anger at her own naivete and fear for Harriet's safety.
"Damn it,Morgan," Derik cursed on the other end of the line, his voice heavy withconcern. "Where are you now? Are you okay?"
"Still inthe warehouse," she replied, her gaze sweeping over the room once more asif John might suddenly appear from the shadows. "I'm fine, but there's nosign of him or Harriet."
"Alright, calloff the backup. We need to regroup and figure out our next move," Derikordered, his tone all business. "Meet me back at the precinct. We'll gofrom there."
"Fine,"Morgan agreed, her voice terse. She hated that she'd given John the upper hand,and the frustration simmered beneath her skin like a caged animal.
"Be careful,Morgan. Watch your back," Derik warned before hanging up, leaving herstanding in the empty room, the silence pressing in around her.
"Watch myback, huh?" she whispered to herself, bitterness lacing her words."Little late for that."
Furious, Morganstormed out of the warehouse and towards her car, the gravel crunching beneathher boots. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across thedesolate landscape. Her heart pounded with a mix of anger andembarrassment—anger at John for being one step ahead of her and embarrassmentthat she'd let him manipulate her so easily.
"Damnit," she muttered as she yanked open the car door, her chest heaving witheach breath. She slid into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheeltightly, trying to regain control over her emotions. "Get a grip, Morgan.You'll find him."
As soon as shestarted the engine, a sudden movement in the rearview mirror caught her eye.Before she could react, a hood was pulled over her head, plunging her intodarkness. Panic surged through her veins like ice water, but she forced herselfto remain calm, focusing on her training.
"Letgo!" she growled, struggling against the unseen assailant. Her arms flailedin an attempt to free herself, but then she felt something cold and metallicpress against the side of her head. A gun.
"Stopmoving," a voice hissed in her ear. It was distorted, unfamiliar, but sheknew instinctively that it belonged to John Pesci. He'd been here all along,watching her from the shadows while she blundered around like a rookie. Therealization made her sick to her stomach.
"Where'sHarriet?" she demanded, her voice barely concealing the fear thatthreatened to overwhelm her. She cursed herself for letting Derik talk her intowearing the wire and being followed by the police. If only she'd trusted herinstincts, maybe she wouldn't be here right now, blindfolded and at the mercyof a psychopath.
"Quiet,"John snapped, tightening his grip on the gun. "Do exactly as I say, andmaybe, just maybe, you'll both make it out of this alive."
Morgan swallowedhard, weighing her options. She knew she couldn't overpower him whileblindfolded, and if she made any sudden moves, he might pull the triggerwithout a second thought. For now, she had no choice but to comply.
"Fine,"she spat, her voice laced with venom.
"Good. I'lltake it from here. Just scoot on over to the passenger seat and buckleup."
She hesitated fora moment, her survival instincts screaming at her to fight back, but she knewthere was no winning in her current state. Swallowing her pride, she followedhis command, fumbling blindly to shift into the passenger seat.
"Goodgirl," John drawled mockingly as Morgan groped her way across the carseats and buckled herself in. "It's always easier when youcooperate."
