Page 25 of For Wrath

Morgan sat in hercar, the leather seat sticking to her skin as the afternoon sun beat down. Sheglanced over at the imposing glass and steel structure that housed VitalityClinic. The pristine exterior and well-manicured landscaping did little to easeher growing sense of unease.

"Let's seewhat we can find before we go knocking," she muttered, flipping open herlaptop. Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she navigated through the FBIdatabase.

"Alright, EllaVan Sant was definitely here," Morgan whispered to herself, her eyesscanning the screen. "But what about the other victims?" She knewBethany Good had only ever gone to one surgeon, who had been cleared. Shefocused on Sheryl Stewart's financial records instead.

"Come on,give me something..." Morgan's heart raced as she scrolled through thelong list of clinics Sheryl had visited. The woman had a penchant for plasticsurgery, it seemed, but there was no clear connection to Vitality Clinic.

"Damn,"she muttered under her breath, frustration mounting.

Morgan leanedback in her seat, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. A bead of sweattrickled down her temple as she stared at the clinic. If there was a link, itwas hidden beneath layers of deception. But she couldn't shake the feeling thatthis place held the key to solving the case.

Alright, newplan, she decided, her jaw set with determination.She began researching any lawsuits or issues surrounding the clinic, anythingthat might hint at illegal tools or practices. Maggie's words echoed in hermind, making her gut twist with anticipation.

"Someonehere has a secret," she whispered, her eyes narrowing as she focused onthe clinic's entrance. "And I'm going to find it."

Morgan's fingersflew across the keyboard, her eyes scanning the screen with laser-sharp focus.She could feel the pressure mounting as she sifted through pages of searchresults, each click bringing her deeper into a web of deceit and deception.

"Comeon," she muttered to herself, her jaw clenching in determination."There has to be something here."

And then, like abolt of lightning, she found it. A small but damning collection of complaintsagainst the clinic. Women who had undergone procedures at Vitality Clinic, onlyto have their lips grotesquely swollen and distorted, forcing them to seekcorrective surgeries at other establishments.

"Gotcha,"Morgan whispered, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She knew in her gutthat one of the doctors at the clinic was responsible for the horrifyingmurders. But the accusations never led to any legal action, leaving the clinicunscathed and still open for business.

Someone'sprotecting them, she thought, her heart racing. ButI won't let them get away with this.

Morgan slammedher laptop shut, the sound echoing in the confined space of her car. Her mindraced as she considered her next move, her instincts urging her to confront thedoctors directly. But she knew she needed more than just her gut feeling tobring them down; she needed hard evidence to prove their guilt.

"Alright,think, Morgan," she said to herself, her hands gripping the steering wheeltightly. "You've got the connection to the clinic, the victims, and thebotched surgeries. Now you just need the final piece of the puzzle."

As she stared atthe imposing façade of Vitality Clinic, her resolve hardened further. Shewouldn't rest until the person responsible for the brutal killings was broughtto justice, no matter how deep she had to dig into the darkness lurking beneaththe surface.

It was time topay these doctors a visit. And find out once and for all who was behind thesemurders."

With that, Morganexited her car, her every step filled with purpose as she approached theclinic's entrance. The cold, sterile interior beckoned her in, promisingsecrets and revelations just waiting to be uncovered.

Let's see whatyou're hiding.

***

The wind whippedat Morgan's hair as she stormed through the glass doors of Vitality Clinic, hereyes narrowing in on the only person occupying the room. A young man, no olderthan twenty, sat behind the reception desk, his nametag reading 'Matt.' Helooked up from his phone, startled by her sudden entrance.

"Can I helpyou?" Matt asked hesitantly, clearly taken aback by her intense gaze.

"SpecialAgent Morgan Cross, FBI," she announced, flashing her badge. "I'mhere to speak with the doctors who work here." Her tone was firm and leftno room for argument.

"Uh... well,they're not in right now," Matt replied nervously, his fingers fumblingwith a pen. "Can I take a message or something?"

Morgan leanedacross the counter, giving him a cold stare that probably sent shivers down hisspine. She could sense his apprehension and decided it was time to push himfurther. "I'm investigating three murders linked to the world of plasticsurgery," she said, her voice icy. "I believe someone here may beinvolved."

It was like aswitch had been flipped. Matt's eyes widened in terror, and he began to stammerout his words. "I-I didn't know anything about that! I just startedworking here a few months ago. I swear I don't know anything!"

Morgan studiedhim for a moment, his fear radiating off of him. It wasn't often that she foundherself intimidating others, but she'd learned over the years how to use it toher advantage when necessary. With this newfound leverage, she pressed further."Then tell me about the doctors who work here. Who should I be lookinginto?"

"Alright,alright," Matt conceded, his voice shaking. "There are two maindoctors here - Dr. Sanders and Dr. Kim. They've both been working here foryears, but I don't know much about them. I just handle appointments andpaperwork."

"Are thereany other doctors affiliated with this clinic?" Morgan asked, her mindracing with thoughts of the victims and their connection to this place.

"Um,well," Matt hesitated, swallowing hard. "There was another guy whoused to work here, but he left a while ago. I didn't really know him. His namewas Dr. Blanchard, I think."

---