Page 10 of For Silence

The room swelled with intensity as the hour crept by, the air heavy with concentration. Morgan's team filtered through transactions, compiling data with relentless precision. The list grew, name by name—a ledger of potential guilt.

"Got something," called out an agent, breaking the silence like a gunshot. Heads turned as he read out a series of names, each one a potential key to unlocking the mystery.

"Print it," Morgan commanded, and moments later, a sheet was in her hands. The paper felt like lead, each printed name a weight on her conscience. Credit card purchases—traceable, tangible threads in the vast web they hoped to unravel. But cash transactions remained elusive, hidden beneath layers of anonymity.

"Credit cards first," she decided, her mind racing ahead. "We'll dig into cash sales next. It's a longer shot, but we can't afford to miss anything."

"Understood," Derik affirmed, his tone steadying in the face of the unknown. "Let's start cross-referencing these with known associates of the victims."

Their gazes locked, a silent pact forged between them. This list was the beginning, a first step down a path that promised to twist and turn with the cunning of their quarry. Morgan felt the familiar thrill of the chase surge within her, the sharp edge of purpose honed by years of navigating the shadows of human malice.

Morgan scanned over the list, the names blurring into a morass of potential and suspicion. Her eyes snagged on a familiar one—Daniel Keen. The letters seemed to pulse with a dark energy, as if the man's reputation had imbued them with a life of their own.

"Keen," she muttered under her breath, her voice a low growl of recognition.

She’d heard of him before. His name was synonymous with courtroom warfare, a prosecutor who played in the gray, where right and wrong often became indistinct. She flipped open her laptop, the click of keys punctuating the tense silence of the room.

"Derik, look at this," Morgan beckoned with an urgency that made her partner pivot mid-step, his curiosity piqued. He leaned over her shoulder as the search results confirmed what she dreaded—Daniel Keen had faced off against both victims within the past year. Unrelated cases, but still, he was a connection.

"Always lost..." Derik's voice trailed off, echoing the incredulity that tightened around Morgan's chest like a vice.

"Keen has a pretty bad reputation for losing cases for his clients," Morgan said. "If he wanted to get rid of people like Gina and Elaine, it would make sense. They were good defense lawyers. They got a lot of people who looked very guilty free of charge. To be honest, a lot of people could take issue with people like that."

"Let's not jump the gun," Derik said, a note of caution coloring his voice. "There could be any number of reasons for his losing streak. Correlation, not causation and all that."

Morgan nodded, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. "We can't rule it out, though. This is the first solid link we've had between the victims. Was Keen set to face off against either of them in the coming weeks?”

Derik turned back to his own laptop, fingers once again flying over the keys. "Let's see... yes. According to this," he said after a moment, "he was scheduled to go up against Gina in court next month."

Morgan clenched her jaw. The connection was tenuous, but it was more than they had before – a thread to pull on, a path to follow. And while Morgan knew better than anyone how dangerous assumptions could be, she couldn't shake off the feeling that they were onto something.

"Could be a motive," she mused aloud, "but we need more."

“Hold on,” Derik said, voice urgent as he frowned at the screen. “I’m on Keen’s file right now. His wife filed for divorce less than two weeks ago.”

“That could be a reason for your psyche to start crumbling,” Morgan said. “If he keeps losing to defense lawyers such as Gina and Elaine, then maybe he wanted to start taking them out, to boost himself. We don’t know what’s been going on in his marriage, but maybe his wife was tired of being with a lawyer who could never win a case.”

“So he’s trying to kill the competition,” Derik muttered.

A new intensity filled the room. Daniel Keen just might be the thread connecting these women.

“We should split up,” Morgan suggested. “You take Keen’s wife, I take Keen.”

Derik looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Right. I'll see what the ex can reveal about him. You be cautious, alright? This is only a lead, but if Keen is our man..."

"I've dealt with worse." Morgan interrupted, forcing a grim smile onto her lips.

Derik squared his shoulders, a glint of determination flashing in his eyes. "See you on the other side then."

CHAPTER FOUR

Derik’s black sedan pulled up to the curb, the engine purring gently before he cut it off. The vehicle coasted to a stop in front of a small suburban house, its white picket fence and meticulously trimmed hedges exuding a sense of normalcy that Derik knew was only surface deep. According to their research, this was where Debby Keen lived alone, her husband Daniel recently ejected from the picture.

He surveyed the well-maintained exterior, eyes lingering on a collection of garden gnomes that stood guard among colorful flower beds. They were whimsical, out of place with the gravity of his visit. It was a stark reminder that behind every front door, there could be stories untold, lives unraveling silently.

As he sat behind the wheel, Derik's thoughts drifted to Morgan. She had taken a different path this morning—straight towards confrontation with Daniel Keen. Alone. A knot tightened in his gut. What if Keen was their guy? What if she gets hurt? The scenarios played out in his mind like a series of grotesque still frames.

"Trust her," he muttered under his breath. It was their creed, the foundation on which they built not just their partnership but something more. Trust wasn't just given; it was chosen—again and again.

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