Page 45 of For Fear

"What if..." she began, her voice trailing off as she tried to piece together the fragments of the puzzle. "What if my father and Mary Price were working together on something? Something that threatened Cordell?"

Derik leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "It's possible. But what could it have been? And why would Cordell go to such lengths to cover it up?"

Morgan shook her head, frustration etched on her face. "I don't know. But whatever it was, it got Mary Price killed. And it nearly destroyed my father."

She turned to Mueller, her eyes blazing with intensity. "We need access to those files. The ones Cordell had his agent looking into. They could hold the key to all of this."

Mueller hesitated, his brow furrowed. "Those files are classified. Buried deep. It won't be easy to get our hands on them. It was hard enough for me to uncover this photo without ringing any bells.”

"I don't care," Morgan snapped, her patience wearing thin. "We need to find out what Cordell was after. What he was trying to hide. And we need to do it now before he catches wind of what we're up to."

Derik stood up, placing a calming hand on Morgan's shoulder. "We'll find a way," he assured her. "Even if we have to go outside official channels."

Morgan nodded, her jaw clenched with determination. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that they were up against a formidable opponent in Cordell. But she also knew that she couldn't back down, not when the truth about her father was so close.

Mueller leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Morgan, I know you want answers. But you need to be careful. Cordell is a dangerous man, and he's not going to take kindly to you poking around in his business."

Morgan met his gaze unflinchingly. "I don't care what Cordell thinks. He framed me, sent me to prison for a crime I didn't commit. And now I find out he's been obsessed with my father and Mary Price for decades? I'm not going to back down until I know the truth."

She stood up, the photograph clutched tightly in her hand. "I'm going to keep digging, sir. With or without your help. I owe it to my father, and to myself, to find out what really happened."

Mueller sighed, but there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes. "Just be careful, Morgan. You're treading on dangerous ground."

Morgan gave him a grim smile. "I know. But I've been in dangerous situations before. And I always come out on top."

With that, she turned and strode out of Mueller's office, her mind already churning with plans. She knew the road ahead would be treacherous, but she was ready for the fight.

Cordell had made a grave mistake in underestimating her. And now, with this new lead, she was more determined than ever to uncover the truth and bring him to justice.

No matter what it took, no matter how dangerous the path became, Morgan would not rest until she had exposed Cordell's crimes and avenged her father's memory. The game was on, and this time, she was playing for keeps.

EPILOGUE

The sky hung low and dark, a thick blanket of clouds threatening rain as Morgan stood beside Derik at the edge of Thomas Grady's grave. The air was heavy with the scent of impending storms, the mood as somber as the small cluster of FBI agents gathered to pay their respects. It was a meager turnout, a testament to the fact that Thomas, for all his years with the Bureau, had few true friends. There was a detached feeling to the whole affair, as if Thomas's secretive life had followed him even into death.

Morgan pulled her black coat tighter, the wide brim of her hat shielding her face from the cold drizzle that had begun to fall. Her expression betrayed nothing of the tumultuous thoughts churning inside her as she stared at the dark hole in the earth that would soon swallow Thomas's casket. Derik stood silently at her side, ever-present, his green eyes watching her with quiet concern. He could sense the storm raging within her, knew that her reasons for being here went far beyond mourning a fallen colleague.

The reality of Thomas's sudden, violent end was still a raw wound, but it was the unanswered questions surrounding his death, and his life, that gnawed at Morgan most. The photograph of her father with Thomas's mother that Mueller had uncovered replayed in her mind's eye on a maddening loop. What secrets had died with Thomas? What did he know about her father's past, about Cordell's involvement in Mary Price's death all those years ago? The need for answers burned in Morgan's chest, as unrelenting as the tattoos etched into her skin.

The priest's droning eulogy barely registered as Morgan wrestled with the implications of everything she and Thomashad uncovered about Cordell. The corrupt director who had sent her to prison on false charges ten years ago, who had now orchestrated Thomas's murder - how deep did his web of deceit go? Was her own father nothing more than collateral damage in whatever game Cordell had been playing?

A wave of nausea washed over Morgan as another, more terrible thought rose like bile into her throat. If her father and Thomas's mother had been involved somehow, did that make Thomas her...what? Brother? Cousin? The possibilities made her head spin. Derik must have noticed her swaying slightly, because his hand found hers, squeezing gently. She shot him a tight smile of gratitude, the simple contact anchoring her to the present.

There were still so many unknowns, so many shadowy corners of the past yet to be illuminated. But one truth shone clearly through the gloom - whatever secrets had died with Thomas, Cordell knew them too. And he would stop at nothing to ensure they stayed buried. As the first shovelful of dirt thudded hollowly onto the casket, Morgan vowed silently to herself that she would not rest until she had exposed the rot at the Bureau's core. For Thomas. For her father. And for herself.

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she scanned the somber faces around her, searching for any hint of Richard Cordell's presence. The old man was a master of manipulation, always lurking in the shadows, pulling strings from afar. It would be just like him to show up here, to gloat over his victory, even if only from a distance.

Her gaze settled on a figure standing apart from the rest, a man in a dark coat with a hat pulled low over his face. Something about his stance, the way he held himself, sent a chill down her spine. Could it be one of Cordell's men, the very shooter who had ended Thomas's life? The thought made her fists clench at her sides, the urge to confront him almost overwhelming.

But she held herself in check, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place. Causing a scene here would only play into Cordell's hands, giving him more ammunition to use against her. No, she needed to bide her time, to wait for the right moment to strike.

As the eulogies began, Morgan found it hard to focus on the words being spoken. The agents who stepped forward to pay their respects spoke of Thomas's dedication to the job, his tireless work ethic, but their words rang hollow to her ears. Did any of them truly know the man he had been? The secrets he had carried?

She thought back to their last conversation, just days before his death. Thomas had been on edge, hinting at the tangled web of lies and corruption that he had uncovered within the Bureau. He had warned her to be careful, to trust no one, but even he couldn't have imagined just how far Cordell's influence reached.

Morgan's mind raced with questions, each one leading to a dozen more. What had Thomas discovered that had made him a target? What role had her father played in all of this? And what did it mean for her now that she found herself at the center of this deadly game?

As the service drew to a close, Morgan felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders. She knew that the road ahead would be long and treacherous, that every step would be fraught with danger. But she also knew that she couldn't turn back now, not when the truth was so close at hand.

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