Page 7 of For Silence

"Thank you, sir." The words were succinct, as much an acknowledgment of Mueller's concession as they were a verbal handshake sealing an unspoken agreement.

Mueller stood, towering over the desk that served as his command center. "I’ll make some calls. See what strings can be pulled without drawing too much attention. We do this quietly until there’s something concrete."

"Understood." Morgan rose, her posture rigid with purpose. Every cell in her body was alert, ready. "I'll await your instructions."

"Good. Don't get ahead of yourself, Cross." Mueller's gaze held hers for a moment longer before he turned away, dismissing her with the finality of a closing door. "You'll hear from me soon."

As Morgan exited the office, the sense of urgency that had crackled in the air settled into a simmering determination. The game was on, and she wasn't just a player—she was the hunter. With Derik at her side, matching her stride for stride, she felt the old, familiar thrill of the chase. They had a narrow window, and she intended to shatter it wide open.

***

Morgan's office was a chamber of restless energy, the air charged with the static of anticipation. She remained seated, her eyes darting across the computer screen where secrets waited to be unearthed. Although s he was anxious to hear if they’d been given the attorney case, Morgan took some time to follow up on the other lead she needed to chase: Richard Cordell.

The glow of the monitor cast harsh shadows on her face, accentuating the lines of determination etched into her skin. Years in prison had honed her instincts, sharpened her senses, and now she wielded them like weapons against the invisible adversary who haunted the edges of her life.

She found it, an article headlined with Cordell's name, accompanied by a grainy photograph that captured his confident smile. His career sprawled before her in black and white—the celebrated cases, the commendations for bravery, promotions rising like stepping stones to power. He'd been a titan within the Bureau.

The scrolling continued, past accolades and official portraits, until she landed on an article about his retirement event. It was a gala affair, the pageantry of law enforcement's elite bidding farewell to one of their most revered figures. In the sea of faces, Morgan's gaze snagged on one in particular—Mueller, looking younger, his hair less gray, but no less imposing.

He was there, amidst the high ranks, a part of the world that had once been Cordell's domain. And while they had celebrated, she had been confined behind bars, her name tarnished, her life unraveled by the very institution she had sworn to serve.

A bitter taste curled at the back of her throat, a reminder of betrayal's sting. Each revelation was a foothold, a piece of the puzzle she was determined to solve. The connection between Mueller and Cordell was tenuous, perhaps nothing more than the obligatory attendance of bureau politics—but she filed it away. Every detail mattered. Mueller had known her father too, as John Christopher, but Morgan still didn’t know if he had any idea that Morgan was his daughter.

Just then, a knock at the door. Mueller’s wide frame filled the space, and she exited the article.

"Cross. You're on the case."

Morgan's pulse quickened. All her instincts as an agent surged to the forefront, ready for the hunt. Recognition of the gravity of their assignment washed over her.

"Two days," Mueller continued, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "That's all you've got to link these murders before it reverts back to local jurisdiction."

"Understood, sir," Morgan replied, rising from her chair. “Thank you.”

The Assistant Director gave a brief nod in return before turning on his heel and departing, leaving behind a silence that throbbed with unspoken urgency.

Morgan allowed herself a moment, a fleeting pause for breath. Then she reached for the phone.

"Derik," she said as soon as Derik picked up, "We're on. Two days to link the cases."

In the background, she heard the faint rustle of paper and the hurried shuffle of movement. After being her partner for years, Derik had learned to match her pace.

"Two days?" She could hear the strain in his voice, mirrored by her own tension. "That's not a lot of time, Morgan."

"No, it isn't," she admitted, “but we can do it.”

“If they even are related, Morgan.”

“We’re going to find out if they are. First thing we should do is go to Gina’s crime scene. I want to see it for myself now, in the daylight. Be ready to go in five.”

“Got it,” Derik said.

Morgan ended the call, her gaze lingering on the dark screen. She looked out the office window at the sprawling cityscape beyond, her keen eyes picking out the surreal landscape beneath the morning sun. She had two days to dig for answers, to expose a killer's hidden truth beneath the glaring light of justice.

***

The suburb Morgan had been in last night looked different in the fresh light of day without the swarms of police officers around it. On a corner of the sidewalk, crime scene tape created a barricade; there were still some officers there, guarding the scene, when Morgan drove her car up to the curb with Derik in the passenger seat.

“So this is where it happened?” Derik asked.

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