*FIRST DRAFT* The Cover of Darkness (DCI Morgan Chester Series)

Chapter Two

The moonlight had crept between the slit in the curtains and emitted a radiant glow on her bewitching form that laid on top of the duvet, her powerful toned abdomen, curved hips, and sensational perky breasts. Her guest slept peacefully beside her. His soft snores filled her bedroom. A smirk played on her soft lips as the memories of hours before flooded her mind.

Morgan's mind had stolen her ability to sleep even when her body yearned for it. She had known the battle against insomnia would be futile – it had been like this since her childhood.

Silently and with ease, Morgan raised her torso from the bed and swung her recently shaved legs over the side with her feet placed on the soft carpet. The loose grey nightshirt peeked from under her pillow where she kept it. She slipped it on as she rose from the bed and retrieved the black lace thong discarded hours ago when they fumbled at each other's clothes like erratic teenagers. Her small feet padded on the cold wood floor in her hallway as she entered the open planned kitchen. The sky outside the large window that overlooked Camden Market, was dark but clear.

The coffee machine sat proudly in the corner of her kitchen. It was an expensive housewarming present Morgan had brought herself. If her mind refused her sleep, she would indulge in a cup or two of coffee. Without a second thought, she fed three generous spoonsful of roasted African coffee beans and added water. A second filter prepped and waited patiently by the machine as it purred to life. She required an aggressive caffeine jolt to function.

Her Superintendent's words had spun in her mind like a broken record. The Academy in Quantico wanted to present her with an award. She remembered fondly of her first day at the Academy. She had left the army and started as a cadet in the Behavioural Science Unit with a special recommendation from the General. She welcomed the strict authority and rules with open arms as it steered her away from the mess of her teenage life.

The coffee machine sang its finishing tune. Morgan grabbed a marble printed mug from the cupboard above the counter, scooped two sugars int the mug, the milk and finally the scalding liquid. She ignored the silver rack that cradled pale pink mugs that her mother had brought her. The Rack of Shame she had named it. No mug had been touched since unboxed, not even her guests would suffer drinking a hot beverage from such monstrosity.

With her coffee in hand, Morgan plotted herself on the comfortable charcoal corner sofa and turned the TV on but muted the sound. BBC News played silently in the background. The table between the sofa and the TV was littered with filters and papers. A tray had been carefully placed in the middle, a red plastic grinder and a clear bag containing a green plant sat proudly on the lid. Morgan had stopped herself from giving in to the temptation that growled at her. She slipped onto the grey rug and rolled herself a cigarette in liquorice paper. She needed a clear head if she was going to finish her report.

The breeze bit at Morgan's arms and her nipples hardened under her shirt as she opened the wide window. She lit the cigarette with the lime green lighter she kept on the windowsill. The intoxicating smell floated down to her lungs as she inhaled the burning tobacco. She exhaled the smoke satisfied. Outside her window, she could see the merchants outside the market by the underground station unload stock from their vans ready for the busy day ahead. Morgan hated Camden Market towards Christmas, busiest time of the week for tourists.

She had often wondered if the murderers she studied and convicted, analysed their victims through a window like this.

"You're up early." A gruff voice had come from behind her. Morgan had turned her head and smiled. Her guest leaned against the kitchen island with his dark blonde hair messy and shirtless; parading his defined abs. Morgan fought back the moan that had grown in her throat as she remembered slowly tracing them with her tongue.

"Could say the same, Martin." She replied.

"I needed to use your bathroom. I need to get going." Morgan's smile faltered. She had hoped that he would spend the night instead of leaving soon after they have sex.

"It's 3 am you may as well stay." Morgan offered.

"I would but I have two dogs that get anxious if I don't come home." He shrugged.

"All good things must come to an end I guess." She said as the stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray. "There's coffee in the machine and good luck finding your clothes."

Martin chuckled as he retreated to the bedroom. She poured them both a cup of coffee as she switched the volume up on her TV. The anniversary of the disappearance of Ivy Ellis was headline news. Ivy was five when she vanished from her hotel in Greece nine years ago. Morgan inhaled sharply as the picture of the mousy blonde-haired child appeared. The case had haunted Morgan for years.

"I don't understand why you have such a vendetta against those mugs. They are kind of cute." Martin grinned as he accepted the coffee from Morgan. He was fully dressed.

"They were a present from my mum. I would throw them out, but she caused a scene last time. I rather not deal with the hassle."

"You may come across as stone-cold Chester, but you do have a good heart." He chuckled as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

She enjoyed the unspoken agreement they had come to. They met in the Blue-Eyed Maid in London Bridge three months ago. He was drinking with his fellow doctors and she was forced to join her team for their routine Friday night drinks. He approached her as she waited at the bar to be served by an arrogant student bartender. They casually introduced themselves, he brought her drinks as they chatted throughout the night.

They then snuck off to fuck in the dark alleyway next to the pub.

"I better go," Martin announced as he washed the mug and placed it on the drying rack. "Don't work too hard." He chuckled and leaned to plant a kiss, but Morgan turned her head, so his lips landed on her cheek. He smirked as he grabbed his coat and showed himself out.

After she finished her coffee, she discarded her shirt and thong in the hamper by the bathroom sink and climbed into the shower. The hot water crashed down on her and washed away the sweat. She brushed her teeth in the shower and her emerald eyes caught the shampoo bottle in the shower rack. She decided she was not caffeinated enough to complete the excruciating task of drying her hair if she washed it.

Refreshed from the shower, she returned to her bedroom. Her wardrobe was full of bland and dark colour clothes. She grabbed a pair of dark grey jog bottoms and a purple crew neck t-shirt and placed them on her unmade bed. The detangler brush was Morgan's favourite tool when it came to tackle her naturally wavy hair. Once dressed, she gazed in the full-length mirror, somewhat happy with her reflection.

Morgan returned to the kitchen and poured her third cup of coffee; the first filter had finished, she quickly replaced it with the second one. An angry growl erupted from her stomach. Toast and Nutella would do the trick.

Large hands pounded hard against her front door before she could slip two pieces of bread in the toaster. With pursed lips, she grabbed one of the sharp knives from the holder by the sink and tip-toed to the door. She checked through the peephole and cursed.

"Silas, what are you doing here?" Morgan asked as she opened the door but paused when she witnessed the panic on his face.

"It's Layla. She's missing."