Anti-Hero | Tim Bradford

Chapter Twenty One - Photographing

Morgan spun on her chair, waiting for the computer to make its move in the latest of a string of chess games. The Sergeant in charge of the detectives, Caradine had been drying her out when it came to cases, leaving her nothing but time. The computer moved its King to B7.

Rolling her eyes, she debated moving her bishop only to be cut off by Grey approaching her desk, a small cardboard box neatly tucked under his arms.

"Are you really playing computer games right now?" He asked incredulously.

She quickly closed the tab. "No...?"

"Don't you have a job to do? Or are you still left behind? Because if you are, I can speak to Sergeant Caradine, get him to ease up on you."

"No. Thank you though," She shook her head, turning in her chair to fully face Grey, "As much as I appreciate it, I don't need special treatment. Especially right now. I need to earn Caradine's trust again.... Not that I had much of it in the first place. But onto another subject, what brings you over? Super cool secret crime to fight?"

Wade laughed, placing the box down in front of Morgan "Not quite. This was dropped at the front desk for you. Smitty tried to open it, so I rescued it."

"I didn't order anything."

Morgan carefully picked up the box, examining the outside for a return address. The only text was her details for the postage. No stamps, no indication of where it came from.

"Who dropped it off because clearly it didn't go through USPS." She stood up, taking a step back from the desk.

"Right," Grey said, reaching for his radio. "I'm calling the bomb squad."

"Don't!-" she cut him off before the order could be given. Instead, she moved for the second drawer in her desk, pulling out a pair of latex gloves. "You held it. It's far too light to be any form of explosive. It felt almost empty."

Grabbing the Swiss Army Knife from the pocket of her jacket, she flicked the blade open, slicing through the top layers of tape, leaving the flaps of the cardboard loose. Gently, she opened both at the same time and peered inside.

The box was empty save for a single photograph. It was a polaroid image of Morgan and Tim leaving their home for work the day before. He held her hand, shielding her from the outside. She was almost fully hidden save from her red hair flowing out from behind her.

Flipping it over, Morgan silently read the message inscribed in red ink. All my love, R.D.

"'R.D.' Regina Diaz. She's trying to mess with me." Morgan passed the photo over to Grey, "she also sent me the other photos using polaroid."

"This was yesterday. Look, you're wearing the same thing. Did you see anything when you left?" He asked, pacing the photo back into the box.

"No, Tim might have. I'll call him now."

Grey raised his hand, moving to take his radio out. "Don't. You'll only panic him." He lifted the radio to speak into it. "Officer Bradford, it's Sargent Grey, I need you to report back to the station A.S.A.P."

The radio buzzed with static as Tim replied. "We're about fifteen minutes out. What's up?"

"Just need an opinion on something. Meet us in my office. Have Chen go to help on the front desk."

As Grey spoke to Tim, Morgan gestured to her empty cup, signalling that she was going to get a coffee. She rolled her eyes once again as Grey nodded at her, knowing that he wanted one too.

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Morgan sipped on her coffee from her pink mug, closing her eyes to relish the taste. There was little she enjoyed more than coffee.

"You look like you're about to propose to the cup there." Grey said, looking at Morgan over his own mug.

"What happens between me and the contents of the mug is none of your business," she smirked, resting the mug on Grey's desk in front of her. "Besides, you look just as invested."

Greg looked like he wanted to respond when he looked up at the sound of knocking on his office door and someone entering. "Bradford, come in. Take a seat."

Tim complied, sitting down next to Morgan, sending her an inquisitive look. He reached forward for her mug only to have his hand slapped away.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" Tim asked, looking back and forth between his wife and the watch commander.

"Did you see anything strange yesterday morning when you left the house?" Grey asked, picking up the Polaroid picture, passing it over to Tim to look at. "This was delivered to the front desk this morning. Smitty tried to open it."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Of course he did. But I didn't see anything. Any idea who sent it?"

"I'm having Lopez look at security footage now. But the back says it's from an 'R.D'."

"Regina Diaz."

"That's what I thought," Morgan said, reaching for her coffee again, "but I had a look at the other Polaroids. It only matches the handwriting of one of the pictures. The other is completely different."

Tim placed his hand on Morgan's thigh, squeezing it softly in reassurance. "So you think that this could be the other person, posing as Diaz?"

"It's a possibility. But until we figure it out, I want you two to be careful. Who knows what's waiting out there for you. But at least we know that there is a threat now, we have something to look out for."

"So what now?" Tim asked.

"I'm going to make a few calls, update the case file with this development. See if I can figure anything out." Morgan said, finished off her coffee, placing the empty cup back down on the desk. "Then go see where this photo was taken, see if any cameras could've picked up who took it."

"I can do that. I'll take Chen when she's done with the footage."

"Take her now," Grey said, standing up to guide the two Bradfords out of his office. "I'll have Lopez check the cameras. We can all report back here when we have something."

Morgan nodded, moving out of the door, Tim hot on her heels. She weaved in and out of the officers to go back to her desk. Sitting down, she gestured for her husband to perch on top of the surface.

"I don't think this is anything." She broke the silence, watching Tim's expression change to confusion at her words.

"How so? This is clearly a warning, if not a threat."

Morgan hummed, leaning across to take one of Tim's hands in hers, using the  moment to find the right words. "No. I think it was meant to throw us off our tracks. Have us chasing our tails. Psych us out, you know."

"I know," he said, getting down from the desk, before leaning over to give Morgan a quick kiss. "Just be careful anyway. I can't let anything happen to you."

"Okay. I promise, but only if you do."

"You know me, Mogs, always careful."

Morgan looked down before nodding, watching as her husband left to find his Rookie. Tim hadn't called her 'Mogs' in years, he only did when he was worried, not that he would admit it.