Page 20 of Best Served Cold
Before Lee could even process what Morgan was telling her, she continued. “There’s a certain process I have to follow if I don’t want to get caught. I can’t just kill two people connected to one another. It’s weird. And more importantly, it raises questions. I didn’t kill Arthur Strickland, and I didn’t kill the guy I hurt last night, either. And both incidents are completely unrelated, by the way,” she concluded, as if sensing what Lee’s next question might be before she had even said it.
Lee Holmes had listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that Morgan was accurate in her statements. One person disappearing was suspicious, two friends disappearing within a week of one another at different times was completely and utterly irregular. Albeit it appeared that, regular or not, that exact scenario had already occurred. Putting that aside for a moment, she focused on what Morgan had said about the man from last night. “You still haven’t told me anything about this guy you hurt,” Lee said. “I feel like you have been selectively honest up until this point, choosing to disclose only what you want to disclose.”
Morgan Finch nodded, as if agreeing with Lee without saying so. “I was skeptical to tell you because…well, let’s just say it’s someone you know. How do you feel about that?” she asked, hesitantly.
It was at that moment that Lee could literally feel her pattern of breathing change. Something that came so naturally, so subconsciously, was suddenly all that she could think about. “I don’t know how I feel,” she admitted, quietly. “I think the feeling part comes with knowing who it is that you hurt.”
Morgan nodded again, becoming much like a novelty bobblehead. Lee didn’t mind, though, because it highlighted that she was finally getting through to her in some way or another. “I…” she said, pausing, attempting to find the right words as she pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Last night, when Sienna was telling us about Dylan, seeing how terrified she was to go home to him, it was like I could literally feel my blood boil. Like, my entire body got physically warmer. It took everything inside me to hide it. I’m usually so fucking good at hiding it,” she acknowledged, grinning, as if admiring her own accomplishments from the past. “But it was harder than it ever had been last night. I think you can see where this is going…” she trailed off, no longer smiling, her gaze upon Lee’s, as if expectantly.
This time, Lee nodded, noticing at present time that her breathing had stabilized again, as if relieved by Morgan’s answer. In an ideal world, her girlfriend wouldn’t harm anyone, but if what she was implying was what Lee was thinking, then it was as close to an ideal world as she could get under the current circumstances. “You mean…you hurt Dylan?”
“I hurt Dylan,” she mimicked back. “I’m not stupid enough to kill him, but I also know that he’s not stupid enough to press charges unless he wants the world to know he’s an abusive piece of shit. Turns out, he’s very good at his craft,” she said, shaking her head with distaste. “I can only imagine what Sienna went through. Even I struggled to take his punches and I’m a fucking pro at getting beaten half to death.”
At present time, Lee Holmes wanted to walk over to Morgan and hold her, and yet, the thought of doing so was conflicting. Holding her felt like rewarding her behavior, and whilst, in this instance, rewarding her was perhaps appropriate, she didn’t want to praise the notion that her girlfriend could simply go around attacking people if, and when, she felt like it. Instead, she found a happy medium. “I understand,” she said, rather timidly, taking it all in. “I’m not mad. Not even a little bit, strangely. Thank you,” she continued, exhaling as she flattened down her trousers, giving her body something to focus on other than the dissipating anxiety. “Thank you for sticking up for my friend.”
“It’s no big deal,” Morgan said, looking apologetic despite what Lee had told her. “Circling back to Arthur, is there something I should know?” she asked.
“Kat and I were tasked to do an article on him today,” Lee admitted, leaving out the part whereby she already knew about Arthur hours before that having snooped through Morgan’s belongings. If there was one way in which Lee could have the upper hand on her girlfriend, if she didn’t know already, it was leaving this information out entirely, at least for now. “We don’t really know anything yet, other than the fact he’s missing. We didn’t even know that Edward and Arthur knew each other.”
No longer leaning against the doorway, Morgan made her way over to the fridge, opening it for approximately three seconds before closing it again promptly afterwards. “Shall we order takeout? There’s nothing in the house worth eating. Or we could go out to dinner, perhaps? I know we’ve been doing that a lot lately but we’ve been a little busy with our criminal pursuits and evading the long arm of the law makes me work up an appetite.”
The glare that Lee pointed in Morgan’s direction was enough for her girlfriend to realize that her timing was inappropriate. “Babe, we can order anything you likeafterthis conversation,” Lee emphasised. “Do you know anything abouthis disappearance? Also, why don’t you just tell your mom about Arthur and who he is? She’s literally a detective, Morgan.”
Morgan leaned her head against the fridge, before turning around and taking a few steps towards Lee, placing a hand in hers. “I swear I had nothing to do with his disappearance, nor do I know anything about it. Although, I do have his driver's license because I was scoping him out months ago. I followed him onto the subway and pretended to bump into him by mistake and grabbed it then. My guess is that he skipped town once he found out that his accomplice was missing. As for telling my mom, I can hardly do that, either. Firstly, it begs the question as to why I know anything about Arthur Strickland in the first place, and secondly, if Arthurisarrested, he might start revealing truths about Edward, and that’s the last thing I need, considering I fucking murdered him.”
Lee nodded, squeezing Morgan’s hand supportively. “I understand. I don’t like any of this, but I understand. I have one more question, and then we can order food. The night everything…happened,” Lee said, avoiding explicitly saying what actually happened. “You said you didn’t mean to kill Edward in our apartment. What were you trying to do?”
Her girlfriend smiled, menacingly. “It was actually kinda genius until things went sideways. I wanted to get a strand of his hair so that I could get closure for Summer’s family by placing it somewhere near her body. Then, I was going to murder him, albeit not in our apartment. Once I’d done that, my plan was to set up Arthur Strickland and frame him for the murder of Edward Beckett. Ed goes down for the murder of Summer, and Arthur goes down for the murder of Ed. Alas…he caught wind of my intentions pretty quickly in our apartment and I had to improvise, which is what you saw. In my quest to get some of his DNA, I ended up spilling it all over our living room floor.”
Like an inquisitive puppy, Lee cocked her head to one side whilst she cogitated. “How did you even manage togethim to our apartment in the first place?”
“Oh, that was easy,” Morgan acknowledged, removing her hand from Lee’s in order to pull out a can of soda from the fridge before opening it with a satisfying click. “He’s been looking for a Remington Bolt Action rifle of all things on all of the online marketplaces for weeks. I just told him I was selling one, and gave him a stupidly low price. That fucking moron couldn’t say no. I guess I didn’t think it through, though, because we both know I’ve never held a gun in my life. Huh,” Morgan said, taking a sip of her soda, her eyes scanning the room in deliberation whilst she cogitated. “I guessI’mthe moron in this scenario actually,” she shrugged.
After everything that Lee had learned about Morgan recently, she couldn’t say that she knew that her girlfriend had never held a gun before, at least not for certain. She supposed, if anything, it was almost ironic that Morgan, whom of which murdered people as a pastime activity, had never held a tool that was arguably the most efficient method of killing. “Your plan isn’t completely shot, you know. We could still have Arthur arrested and frame him for the murder of Edward Beckett. We just need to figure out a way to get Edward’s DNA on Arthur’s driver’s license. Following that, we can just plant it in his house and have your mom find it.”
Morgan placed her can upon the countertop, the sound of her laughter overpowering the sound of the aluminium against the marble. “Hold on, let me just get this straight because I feel like I might have just hallucinated the last thirty seconds of our conversation. You want to dig up Edward’s decomposing body, rub Arthur’s driver’s license all over it, and then break into his house?”
Lee’s own smile matched Morgan’s, sensing her predatory instinct had reared its head. Two sides of the same coin. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But let’s order pizza first.”
Morgan stepped into Lee’s space, wrapping her arms around her waist before leaning in to place her lips against hers. The contact electrified Lee’s senses as she shivered into the touch, placing her own arms now around Morgan’s neck, pulling her closer towards her body.
When they finally broke contact, Morgan gazed into Lee’s eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Lee Victoria Holmes, I am completely and utterly infatuated with you.”
Chapter Eighteen
If Lee Holmes had been instructed a week ago to compose a list of activities that had the potential to occupy her Wednesday night, standing in Rosehill Cemetery for a second time whilst her girlfriend uncovered a grave that they had dug-up only a few days prior to hide unidentifiable parts of a body would likely not have made the cut.
Morgan, however, had informed Lee at their apartment that the identifiable remains of Edward Beckett were no longer an option; scattered and burned, nothing more than ash that belonged to the wind.
Lee wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered through the evening chill. “Do you want my jacket?” Morgan asked, leaning against the shovel for a moment, halting her digging as she exhaled mist out into the cold air.
Only Morgan Finch could be chivalrous whilst digging up a body,Lee thought. She nodded, and without a moment's hesitation, Morgan pulled back her navy blue bomber jacket from her shoulders and threw it over towards her girlfriend who put it on with equal haste, acknowledging that despite thecircumstances, it smelt wholly of Morgan and her off-brand perfume. “Thank you,” Lee offered, whilst Morgan got back to work. Her digging only ceased when the slightest hint of mahogany wood poked its way through the dirt.
Morgan placed the shovel beside the grave and glanced at her girlfriend, standing in place amongst the headstones, stagnant, still, as if she had become a headstone herself. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed, her tone laced with worry.
Lee Holmes retrieved a pair of black gloves from her jean pocket, throwing another pair at Morgan from the alternating pocket, who caught them with ease. “Positive,” she confirmed. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Returning to the grave of Margaret Spence almost felt like returning to an old friend and Lee cursed herself internally at the thought. Neither she and Morgan had ever met this woman and yet through their actions they would all be tied together in the most morbid way imaginable—an unsettling familiarity like an old scar.
