Chasing Morgan Page 3
Being the odd man out didn’t sit well with him. He wanted what they all had, a family.
The only steady woman in his life was simply a voice over the phone—and strangely, as he believed, in his mind. His psychic ghost. She floated into his life without warning, gave him some clue to a case, and then she disappeared into thin air. Well, not even that, really, because she was just a voice. A really sexy voice. She kept him up nights thinking about her and the sultry tones that haunted his dreams. He didn’t want to analyze too deeply the fact that he sometimes thought he could actually hear her talking to him in his mind. Or admit it to anyone else.
Haunted, like a ghost occupies a house. Somehow a piece of her lived inside of him.
Morgan. God, she was in his head. A chance meeting in a restaurant more than five years ago started him down the road of the longest relationship he’d ever had with a woman. If you could call it that. The fact that he’d only seen her for maybe five minutes and spoken to her in person for less than a minute didn’t really matter. She left an indelible print on him. About five-seven, blond hair down to her waist, and long legs. He could almost feel them wrapped around him, so vivid were some of the fantasies he had about her.
She’d burrowed deep into his psyche. He thought about her all the time. Sometimes she was a blessing, and other times a curse. Mostly he blamed her for things in his life that he couldn’t seem to get right. If he had a bad date, it was because he spent the night with the woman wondering if she was like Morgan. Were they similar or different? If Morgan were there, what would they talk about? What would they do together? Would he kiss her? Take her to his bed?
He thought about her at work. Every case he took, he wondered whether she’d call with a clue. Over the past year, his need to hear her voice grew to a gnawing hunger.
At a low point, in need of someone to comfort him, she’d call out of the blue. It could be late at night, or in the middle of the day, but she’d know he needed a shoulder to lean on and a friend’s ear to bend. She’d listen, and then remind him he wasn’t alone. Every time they spoke she reminded him of that simple fact. She might not be with him physically, but she lurked in the shadows of his mind.
It was a comfort and a curse.
Loneliness grew in his soul like a vine, wrapping itself around everything in his life. Watching his friends and their happy family lives took its toll. He wanted so much to have the kind of life Sam, Jack, and Cameron enjoyed with their wives and children.
Instead, he sat in his beige walled cubicle typing out the latest reports for the case that Morgan had helped them solve. The walls were closing in on him. He stared across the aisle at Sam’s back as he wrote out other reports. The constant clicking of his partner’s fingers on the keyboard drilled into his head and made the splitting headache that had taken hold hours ago pound with every tap of the keys.
He took in his life, sitting in his cramped cubicle next to his partner, eating his partner’s wife’s outstanding food, drinking stale coffee, and wondered why he couldn’t make a relationship with a woman work.
Doo, do, do, dooo—
“You really need to change the ring tone on your phone, man.” Sam smiled.
Tyler frowned at the thing.
“I’m just happy I finally figured out how to get the thing to stop beeping every time I have a message. Why can’t they make a cell phone that’s simple? Punch in the number you want to call and it goes through. What do I care if it can access the Internet or play music? I have a computer and a radio to do those things. It just makes the damn things more expensive and more difficult to use.”
Doo, do, do, dooo—
“Answer the damn phone and make it stop that ridiculous ring.”
“Reed.”
Happy to hear the voice on the line, he tipped his head back and silently swore at himself for forgetting to call her.
“I’m working. I can’t come over now.”
Tyler rolled his shoulders and rubbed two fingers at his temple. He’d been working nonstop for more than two weeks. He hadn’t seen or taken Maria out on a date. He’d missed more than one of her calls. More nights than he could count, he got home too late to return her call.
“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in the last couple of weeks. We made the arrest last night. I just have some paperwork to finish and there’s a press conference in . . .” Tyler glanced at his watch. Not much time left before his meeting with his boss, Agent Davies, about the press conference. “I’ve got twenty minutes to finish the reports and see my boss before he makes a statement to the press. Once that’s done, I can go home.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. Exhausted, he hadn’t slept more than three or four hours a night for the past four days. He needed a decent meal and twelve straight hours of sleep. Either he saw Maria, or got some sleep. If he wanted to make a relationship work, he needed to work to make it a relationship.
“How about I pick you up in about two hours and I’ll take you out to dinner at Decadence at the Merrick Building. We’ll have a nice dinner and spend some time together.”
She let loose a happy squeal, telling him he’d made her happy enough to forgive him—this time.
“I’ll call you when I head out.”
Sam had this same conversation several times with women he’d dated. That is, until he’d met and married Elizabeth. One in a million, she understood his work and the long hours he put in. She never failed to surprise him. When he walked through the door, she’d kiss him like it might be the last time, and they’d share their time together like a precious gift. He’d almost lost her more than once, and they both knew his job was dangerous. The time they shared together was something neither of them took for granted. When he left for work, she respected his passion and dedication to his job. She’d worry, but he could count on that kiss and her love when he got home.
Listening to his partner talking to his latest girlfriend reminded him again how lucky he was. He hoped Tyler would find someone as special as Elizabeth, someone who understood the kind of man Tyler was and what it took to do a job that took his total focus and dedication.
“Yeah, the case will be on the news. I think it’s going national.” She congratulated him for solving the case and getting the recognition he deserved. He appreciated it, but corrected her assumption. “I work undercover. I won’t be on TV. I’ll call when I’m on my way to pick you up.”
They said their goodbyes and he smiled, anticipating spending the evening with her. Things between him and Maria seemed easy, uncomplicated. They’d enjoyed each other’s company for the last four months.
Right now, he didn’t know if it was for the moment or forever. Maybe he lacked that something that made women want to stick it out with him and make it work. He could even go so far as to say that the women he chose were just substitutes for the real woman he wanted. So far, he hadn’t found the staying kind.
It all came down to his job. Maybe it would forever keep him alone.
A whisper of Morgan’s haunting voice floated through his mind. You’re not alone.
Her voice, forever reminding him that she was with him, and yet nowhere near him. He asked her more times than he could count where she lived. A hundred other questions she either gave him vague answers to, or outright refused to answer. Like banging his head against the wall, trying to get any personal information from her only ended with a headache.
Any time he suggested they meet, or she should come to San Francisco, she always gave him the same cryptic reply, “It’s not time. Not yet.”
Not yet? What the hell was she waiting for?
Well, he’d gotten tired of that not yet and took it for what it probably meant: never.
He threw a pencil across his desk and went back to typing his reports, ignoring the ghost in his head and the bone-deep need to pull her closer. Or worse, answer that voice with another plea for her to come to him, only to be denied with another not yet. A man could only take so much r
ejection from the same woman.
Still, he needed her. Another thing he didn’t dare admit to that voice, her, or even himself most of the time.
Chapter Four
* * *
TYLER DIDN’T HAVE time to analyze the fact that he counted on that sultry voice at times like these when he was tired and feeling like life wasn’t going his way. Sometimes he actually truly believed she had a connection to his thoughts and feelings.
“Reed. Get your head out of your ass. We have a press conference in fifteen. Let’s break this case down to the facts for public consumption,” Agent Davies ordered.
Tyler shifted his thoughts back to the job at hand. His personal life could wait. That’s what he kept telling himself anyway. If he didn’t find some kind of balance between his personal life and the job soon, he’d burn out and have nothing waiting for him on the other side.
“Public consumption, huh. Well, then it breaks down like this. Anthony Delgadillo is an asshole and the public should cheer his arrest. Think the sound-bite guys will play that on the ten o’clock news?”
Agent Davies frowned. “Probably not. Sam, what’s your assessment on the arrest?”
“I completely agree with Tyler. The slimeball is an asshole, and the public should be happy to see him behind bars.”
“All right.” Davies sighed. “You’re both tired and punchy and just want to get out of the office and go home. Sam, I know you miss your wife and baby girl. Tyler, you look like you could use a week’s sleep. Bear with me for a couple of minutes.” He glanced at both men. “Now tell me what you want the director to hear about this high-profile case on the ten o’clock news.”
“Well, there’s a whole other story,” Tyler began. “The director should know that two of his finest agents worked their asses off to bring down a notorious thug, who’s been using the port of San Francisco to traffic prostitutes. The aforementioned slimeball asshole kidnapped, raped, and forced twenty-six women to be his prostitutes, personal playthings, and punching bags. The women from San Francisco were all single women who were snatched from their apartment buildings upon their returning home from work. The women who weren’t abducted from San Francisco were from the Las Vegas and Reno areas. Thanks to Detective Rasmussen and Detective Stewart from San Francisco PD, and with the cooperation of the FBI, the suspect and his accomplices have been arrested. The streets of San Francisco are safe for single, twenty-something females. Since several of the slimeball asshole’s clients are high-profile, wealthy men, the media will make a spectacle out of the case. We’ll have to watch that their names aren’t leaked to the press, but we all know they’ll get hold of the names. Hell, they probably already have them.”
Satisfied with Tyler’s assessment, Agent Davies added, “Don’t forget about Morgan. She nailed this case for us. We’d have never found the guy if it weren’t for her help.”
Tyler didn’t want to bring Morgan into the conversation, especially when they were talking about a press conference. He hated that he had to tell one of the detectives about her because the detective refused to work with them without knowing where Tyler got his leads. He made a judgment call and divulged the fact that Morgan tipped them off to the name of the ship in port.
“Morgan isn’t part of the public consumption part of this conversation. We promised never to put her name out there, or link her with the FBI. If you do, you’re taking a chance she’ll never help us again. She made that very clear. But, yes, without her help, this case was going nowhere fast. Detective Stewart won’t thank us for that. I’d watch him during the press conference. He’s out for the glory. He didn’t like sharing his case with us, or the fact that we used a psychic to solve it.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of outing her, or making the FBI look less than reputable by using a psychic to solve our cases. Besides, the only information we have on her is her name. The public wouldn’t be able to find her. You haven’t found her.”
He didn’t need reminding that all his efforts to find her were for naught. The damn woman didn’t want to be found. It nagged him.
“Don’t bet on it. The press can be relentless when they want something uncovered. Besides, we don’t need to know anything about her, except she’s always right. She’s proven herself over the last five years. She has a better track record than any other psychic the agency has ever used. It makes you wonder what she could tell us if she worked more closely with us on our cases.” He thought about it often, which only intensified his irritation with her.
Agent Davies wrapped things up. “Okay, so Morgan is out of the press release. That’s a given. We’ll give the credit to the detectives and the cooperation between the police and FBI on the case. End of story. They’ll have their sound bite, and we can all call it a day. I’ve pretty much got the outline for the charges and the official statement. We’ll take some questions, which I’ll field to the detectives.
“I’m ready to get this over, press conferences and reporters are part of the job, but not my favorite part. Let’s get this done. You guys hang out behind the reporters and keep your mugs off the news.”
Tyler and Sam would rather do their paperwork than go to the press conference. Davies liked having them there in case the facts of the case were presented incorrectly. Davies could find them behind the crowd and confirm or deny whatever the press came up with in the way of facts with a nod from them.
Tyler just wanted this day to be over. It couldn’t get worse.
Chapter Five
* * *
TYLER AND SAM hung out at the edge of the gathering crowd outside city hall for the press conference. All in all, it appeared the mayor’s office and the public were happy to see another dangerous criminal taken off the streets.
Tyler worried about Detective Stewart. He’d seen the detective off to the side talking confidentially with a barracuda of a reporter by the name of Janet James. Well known for getting the inside scoop and spinning facts for sensational sound bites. Not uncommon for her to stretch the truth and elaborate on details to get the ratings she needed to land the news-anchor job she coveted. So far, the only thing she’d landed was the reputation for sensationalizing news and turning it into tabloid fodder.
Tyler stayed alert and on edge. Agent Davies delivered his statement to the press, finishing up with thanks for the chief of police, the detectives, and the FBI agents who participated in the investigation. Tyler cringed as the press erupted, shouting questions at Davies. One after the other, Davies answered without revealing pertinent facts from the case.
Detective Stewart stepped forward to answer a reporter’s question regarding the timeline of the abductions from the first woman kidnapped to the last. Tyler’s gut had warned him to watch out for Detective Stewart, but he never saw this coming.
One mistake, trusting in the wrong person, and Tyler’s world crashed down around him.
“Detective Stewart, isn’t it true that you were against calling in the FBI? In fact, the SFPD was close to solving the case when the FBI took over.” Janet smiled for the camera and at the detective. Their earlier conversation had been a strategy session for working out the questions she’d ask and the responses he’d give. Tyler’s gut turned over.
“The SFPD worked diligently to solve this case. We collected a lot of evidence before the FBI joined the team,” Detective Stewart answered vaguely.
“Is it true the final details of the case came from a psychic the FBI brought in to help with the investigation?”
Tyler took a step toward the detective about to give away Morgan and ruin his and the FBI’s relationship with her. She’d made it clear. Don’t give out her name, or acknowledge her involvement with the FBI. Ever.
Now, because Detective Stewart was pissed about sharing the spotlight with the FBI, he was going to tarnish the FBI’s reputation and ruin their relationship with Morgan in the process.
Sam grabbed Tyler before he took another step toward the podium. “Just wait. He hasn’t said her name. It’s
well known the FBI uses psychics on occasion. Maybe he’ll make it look like we exhausted every tool at our disposal to bring down Delgadillo.”
“The FBI did bring in a psychic,” Stewart answered.
“Detective, didn’t this psychic lead you to the ship in the San Francisco port that housed the abducted women?”
“The psychic provided the FBI with the name of the ship. She indicated that we would find the missing women onboard. As I understand it, she’s quite accurate and works closely with Agent Reed.”
The blood drained out of Tyler’s face and his whole body went slack and cold. He stood dumbstruck. Stewart couldn’t possibly be outing him and Morgan to the press.
Agent Davies tried to intervene, but the reporter and the detective were on a roll and the detective refused to give up his position in front of the microphones without a fight and stood firm.
“So you admit this so-called psychic actually predicted the correct name of the ship where the women were held?”
“That’s right. Agent Reed assured me and my partner that Morgan provided legitimate leads on multiple cases and is a tool he and the FBI relies on extensively. Agent Reed met Morgan in Texas, and she was instrumental in saving his sister. We were confident, based on the FBI’s recommendation, and those of Agent Reed, that the information from Morgan was reliable.”
At the linking of his name and Morgan’s to the press, Tyler heard Morgan scream No! in his mind so loud and with such anguish that he actually grabbed his head from the pain. Sam’s hands clamped onto his arms, and he dragged him away from the crowd, down the street to their car. He couldn’t think for the searing pain and pressure in his head. It took several minutes for the pain to subside. He stopped Sam’s progress and turned back to city hall and Agent Davies trying to end the press conference.
“I’ve got to go back. He’s got to be stopped. Didn’t you hear her yelling?” He shook his head to try to clear away the pain. The pressure in his head made his nose bleed. He swiped his hand across his face, smearing the blood more than removing it.