Chapter Fourteen - Storing

1.6K 45 0
                                    

Soft muttering came from the almost empty detective's bullpen

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Soft muttering came from the almost empty detective's bullpen. The only light came from a far to dim desk lamp and the far too bright computer screen in the back of the room. It had been a while since this desk had been used, Grey had told the Sergeant in charge of the detectives at Mid-Wilshire to keep the desk clear, despite knowing all the terrible things about long-term missing person cases, he could help but hope that Morgan would return home, and when she did he knew that she wouldn't want anything to change.

The desk had been tidied, the papers she had left sprawled all of it had been neatly stacked up and filed away. The blunt pencils in her pot had been sharpened and the almost dead pens had been replaced with new ones. Although, it was all for naught as the desk looked as messy as ever as Morgan remained hunched over the paperwork she was filing through.

Due to the happenings in her home that morning, she had requested an expedited return to the LAPD. Tim, Lopez, and Grey had supported her claim. She was reinstated, but only fully in the office. If she were to leave the station on shift, she would have to be assisted by another officer or detectives due to her still healing shoulder.

Tim watched her work from a distance, a pained expression flashing across his face as he realised that she wouldn't be resting any time soon. There was nothing he could do except to watch her. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready but it still upset him. Watching her be like this made him realise that a part of her was still on the run, and he may see that part of her again.

– - - - -

Morning soon came, and with it an influx of officers.

Morgan stood from her desk with a stretch and moved to make her way into the morning briefing. This was one of the things she missed most about being a detective, the rapport with other officers built in rituals like this. But today's meeting was nothing lighthearted at all. Instead of taking a seat, she walked to the back of the room and leaned against the window as Grey began to talk.

"As we know, yesterday morning Officer and Detective Bradford's home was broken into, we have  no arrests yet but we are expecting more activity. So we will continue to have one unit outside. Smitty, you take Nolan today. Harper you will be with Detective Bradford, see if you two can jog any memories of hers that will help." Grey flipped through the papers in his podium, looking for the rest of the specialised assignments. "Lopez, West. You will be going to a series of addresses in which Regina Diaz owned to see if you can find anything else. The rest of you will be business as usual, but you may be called back for another assignment. Dismissed."

Morgan pushed herself of the window and walked down the aisle between the desks to greet Nyla and John. "I assume you wanna head out soon?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you at the shop. Dont be long." Harper said, walking off, leaving her alone with John.

"Is she...?"

"Always like that? Yeah, but you grow used to it." John smiled. "You want me to show you where the shop is?"

Morgan laughed and nodded. Nolan gestured for her to follow him. They walked in silence for a few moments before John couldn't contain himself anymore. "How are you doing? Being back here and all; I read your file before the Diaz raid. It must be a big adjustment."

Morgan nodded, processing Nolan's words. "Yeah... you're right. It's definitely an adjustment."

John stopped in his tracks, noticing Morgan's hesitation. "I haven't upset you by asking that, have I?"

"No, not at all," Morgan pushed her hair back from her face. "It's just that nobody has asked me that. How I'm adjusting that is. Everyone just expects me to be the same old Morgan, but I don't know if she exists anymore. And i'm scared that once people realise that, they will no longer want to help me put a stop to all this." She took a breath. "Sorry, I was rambling. Just ignore me."

John reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her in her place. "Don't apologise. That's perfectly normal. If anything, you're doing better than most; if I were you, I would be out of my mind."

"Thanks Nolan, I appreciate this."

"Anytime," John smiled, "Now I better get you to Harper before she castrates me and then get to Smitty before he forgets me... again."

Morgan laughed, "He hasn't changed then."

"Unfortunately not."

- - - - -

"Take a left at the next exit," Morgan said, looking up from the GPS on her phone. "And then just follow the road down to the end."

"Okay," Nyla said, taking the turn as instructed. "You know, I get what you're going through."

Morgan hummed, turning her head away to look at the industrial buildings they passed.

Harper tried not to roll her eyes at Morgan's silence and carried on talking. "I was deep undercover too. I got caught out by one of them when I was with my daughter, it almost cost her her life, and it cost me custody of my kid."

"I'm sorry," Morgan started, but was cut off by Harper continuing to speak

"Don't apologise. She's fine, and I got her back. My point is that you don't need to shut Tim out. He wants the best for you. He's really trying."

"I know. It's just hard knowing what could happen to him by my being here. And it would be all my fault. I don't think I could live with that."

"He did. He blamed himself for two years because you didn't come home. He thought you were dead, everyone did." Nyla pulled over the car. "We're here. But don't mind me asking, why are we at a storage facility?"

Morgan got out of the car and began to walk through the maze of lockers, Harper hot on her heels. "When I caught wind of Regina's operation at the house, I knew that it could end badly for me. So I opened this storage facility in Tim's name."

Stopping outside locker 4823, Morgan pulled out a key from her back pocket and put it in the lock, turning it open. As the lock fell to the ground, she opened the locker. The inside was pretty sparse, a couple of cardboard boxes, a gun case and two polaroids were on the ground.

"This is every conceivable threat I ever received in the last two years. If there is a pattern with the break in, we will find it here."

Anti-Hero | Tim BradfordWhere stories live. Discover now