Page 44 of For Fear

The heavy oak door of Mueller's office closed behind them with a dull thud, sealing Morgan and Derik in the room with their superior. The air felt thick, laden with unspoken secrets and the promise of revelations to come.

Mueller gestured silently toward the two chairs facing his desk, an invitation for them to sit. Morgan's heart thrummed in her chest as she lowered herself into the leather seat, the material creaking softly beneath her weight. Derik followed suit, his presence a reassuring constant at her side.

Once settled behind his desk, Mueller leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished wood surface. "First, I want tocommend you both on your exemplary work on the Adler case," he began, his voice measured and professional. "Your dedication and skill brought a dangerous killer to justice and saved an innocent life. The Bureau is grateful for your service."

Morgan nodded, accepting the praise with a tight smile. She could sense the "but" hanging in the air, the real reason Mueller had called them into his inner sanctum.

"However," Mueller continued, confirming her suspicions, "there is another matter that requires our attention. One that, I believe, holds particular significance for you, Agent Cross."

At the mention of her name, Morgan's spine straightened, her focus sharpening to a laser point. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for, the chance to finally unravel the tangled web of her father's past and its connection to Cordell.

Mueller's gaze met hers, a flicker of understanding passing between them. He knew the weight of the secrets he held, the impact they could have on her life. "As you know, I've been conducting my own investigation into Richard Cordell and his possible involvement in your father's case," he said, his words measured and deliberate.

Morgan's breath caught in her throat, her fingers curling into the armrests of her chair. Beside her, she could feel Derik's tension, his own anticipation palpable in the quiet room.

"I believe I've uncovered something that may shed new light on the situation," Mueller continued, reaching into a drawer of his desk. "Something that, until now, has remained hidden for decades."

Morgan leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Mueller's hands as he withdrew a plain manila folder. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the blood rushing in her ears. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the key to unlocking the truth about her father and Cordell.

Mueller slid the folder across the desk, his gaze never leaving Morgan's face. "Inside, you'll find a photograph that I believe will be of great interest to you," he said, his voice low and serious. "A photograph that connects your father to Mary Price.”

With trembling fingers, Morgan reached for the folder, her mind racing with possibilities. What secrets did this photograph hold? What did it mean for her father, for Mary Price, for the entire case against Cordell?

As she flipped open the folder, her breath left her in a rush, her eyes widening at the sight before her. There, in stark black and white, was a younger version of her father, standing side by side with Mary Price. The image was faded, the edges worn with time, but the faces were unmistakable.

Morgan's mind reeled, questions flooding her thoughts. How long had her father known Mary Price? What was the nature of their relationship? And why had Cordell been so interested in them both?

She looked up at Mueller, her voice barely above a whisper. "What does this mean?"

Mueller leaned back in his chair, his expression grave. "I believe it means that your father and Mary Price were connected in ways we never suspected," he said, his words heavy with implication. "And that Cordell's interest in them both may hold the key to unraveling this entire mystery."

Morgan's grip tightened on the photograph, the edges crinkling beneath her fingers. She knew, without a doubt, that this was just the beginning. That the secrets hidden within this single image would lead her down a path she could never turn back from.

"Where did you find this?" she asked, her voice rough with emotion.

Mueller leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "It was buried deep in some old case files. Files that Cordell had sealed away years ago."

Morgan's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Cordell? What does he have to do with this?"

Mueller's expression was grim. "From what I can tell, Cordell had an agent investigating your father and Mary Price. Decades ago, long before you were even born, Morgan.”

A chill ran down Morgan's spine. Why would Cordell have been interested in her father? In Mary Price? What secrets had he been trying to uncover?

She looked back down at the photograph, studying the faces of the two people who had unknowingly shaped the course of her life. Her father looked so young, so carefree. It was hard to reconcile that image with the haunted man she had known, the man who had raised her in isolation, always looking over his shoulder.

And Mary Price... Thomas's mother. The woman whose death had set so much in motion. Seeing her standing beside her father, she felt a strange sense of connection. As if their fates had been intertwined long before she was even born.

Derik leaned in, his shoulder brushing against hers as he studied the photograph. "What do you think it means?"

Morgan shook her head, trying to clear the jumble of thoughts racing through her mind. "I don't know," she admitted. "But whatever it is, it's big. Bigger than we ever realized."

She looked up at Mueller, her jaw set with determination. "We need to find out what Cordell was after. What he was trying to hide."

Mueller nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. But we need to be careful. If Cordell went to such lengths to bury this, it means he's willing to do whatever it takes to keep it hidden."

Morgan's grip tightened on the photograph, the edges crinkling beneath her fingers. She knew Mueller was right. That pursuing this lead would be dangerous. But she also knew that she couldn't turn back now. Not when the truth about her father, about Cordell's corruption, was finally within reach.

Morgan stood up, the photograph clutched tightly in her hand. She paced the small confines of Mueller's office, her mind spinning with possibilities.

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