A pair of folders slide across Morgan's desk, tossed by Morgan's boss, Devin.
"Two of your patients committed suicide this week."
Morgan glances at the names on the files. Elizabeth Parker and Ryan Johnson.
"What the hell kind of counselor doesn't recognize when her clients are suicidal?!" Devin says angrily.
"But they weren't!" Morgan argues.
"Crime scene cleanup is a stressful occupation hence they're mandated to visit us, but I doubt you're taking your job as a counselor seriously. Especially when they kill themselves on the same day, at the same job!" Devin's nostrils flare.
Morgan's face scrunches cynically. "Same day, same job? Doesn't that sound odd?"
Opening the folders, Morgan examines the coroner's reports. Both documents cite self-inflicted injuries. Looking at the photographs, Morgan covers her mouth.
"Did you even glance at these before charging in here? What about this looks self-inflicted to you!?" Morgan shows the photos to Devin.
Devin vomits in his mouth but forces it back. Regaining his composure, he calms down.
"I don't know -- that's outside my scope of practice. But I trust the MD's report."
"Do you trust where it says the bodies decomposed for six weeks? I saw them both four days ago. And you already signed off on the clinical notes for those visits." Morgan collects the photos.
"I don't trust this. It's a cover up. Maybe the police are calling this a suicide to escape doing more work on an already messy investigation." Morgan slides the files into her briefcase, then stands and grabs her coat.
"Where are you going?" Devin asks.
"To the house. To see if I can find anything the police aren't mentioning." She answers.
44 Rayburn Drive is dark when Morgan arrives. The Biohazard Decontamination van remains in the driveway. Left unlocked, Morgan slides the van open but covers her nose due to the putrescence. She sees where a body rotted next to tipped over jugs of NaOH. Sliding the door closed, Morgan proceeds to the house. These doors are locked, so she peers through the windows. In the den, Morgan spies more signs of struggle. Scattered cleaning tools and another knocked over bottle. This vessel looks empty and its contents spilled versus the unopened containers in the van. Using her cellphone camera, Morgan zooms in to read the label. More NaOH. A web search tells Morgan the compound is more commonly known as Lye. Glancing back through the window, a pale woman's face greets her and Morgan's enveloped in swathes of black hair before she can react.
At the office Morgan hunches over her desk, hair askew, covering her face. Devin quietly steps in.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier. After reviewing everything, I agree that something is off about the issue..."
Morgan hasn't lifted her face to acknowledge him, so Devin steps closer.
"Morgan?"
Morgan begins croaking then raises her head but it's the pale woman's face instead.
Devin's screams are muffled behind Morgan's closed office door.
YOU ARE READING
44 Rayburn Drive (2/4)
Horror...Morgan hasn't lifted her face to acknowledge him, so Devin steps closer. "Morgan?" Morgan begins croaking then raises her head but it's the pale woman's face instead. Devin's screams are muffled behind Morgan's closed office door...
