Page 23 of For Blood

Derik's face was grim in the dim light."You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?Someone with access to the original case files?"

Morgan nodded, sliding into the passenger seat."Or someone connected to the investigations themselves.It's the only way they could know about these changed testimonies."

As Derik started the engine, Morgan stared back at Phillips's house, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.She couldn't shake the feeling that they were racing against an invisible clock, and time was running out.

Morgan's eyes swept the darkened street as Derik pulled away from Phillips's house.The yellow glow of streetlights cast eerie shadows, making every parked car and overgrown bush seem like a potential hiding place for their elusive killer.

"You're thinking about the pattern, aren't you?"Derik's voice cut through her troubled thoughts.

Morgan nodded, her brow furrowed."It's not just random," she said, her voice low and intense."The witnesses who changed their stories—there's a reason the killer's targeting them.We just don't know what it is yet."

She turned to face Derik, noting the tightness around his eyes, the way his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.He felt it too—the pressure, the weight of lives hanging in the balance.

"What if," Morgan began, her mind racing, "what if the killer somehow knows which witnesses lied?Maybe they were there that night, saw something themselves, and now they're...what?Punishing the ones who covered it up?"

Derik's jaw clenched."It's possible.But why wait eighteen years?And if these witnesses were covering up for someone by changing their stories—saying they couldn't remember clearly—why would that person now be killing them?They helped them evade capture."

Morgan shook her head, frustration evident in every line of her body."You're right.It doesn't make sense.If they all started by describing the same person and then recanted, saying they couldn't remember...they were protecting someone.Why would that someone now be hunting them down?"

The car's engine rumbled as Derik accelerated, the streets of Dallas sliding by in a blur of neon and shadow."We'd better figure it out fast," he said, his tone grim."If Whitaker's right, we're not dealing with someone who's done after a few kills.They've been planning this for nearly two decades.They're not stopping now."

The weight of his words settled over them like a shroud.Morgan's mind raced, trying to connect the dots, to see the larger picture that she knew was there, just out of reach.She thought of Rachel Martinez, of Reeves, of Gregory Phillips's reluctant admission.Each piece was important, she was sure of it, but how did they fit together?

"We need to go back through every file," she said suddenly."Every interview, every scrap of evidence.There has to be something we're missing, some connection we haven't seen yet."

Derik nodded, his eyes never leaving the road."Agreed.And we need to get protective details on every surviving witness, whether they want it or not.We can't risk losing anyone else."

Morgan's fingers tightened on the case files in her lap, her knuckles whitening as the streetlights flashed by outside the car window.The rhythmic thrum of the engine seemed to match the pounding of her heart, each beat a reminder of the urgency of their situation.

"It's not about revenge at all," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the car's ambient noise.

Derik glanced over, his brow furrowing."What did you say?"

Morgan turned to face him, her eyes bright with the intensity of her realization."This killer, Derik.It can't be about revenge.Why would someone kill witnesses who helped them by lying about what they saw?"

She paused, her mind racing."Think about it.The victims—all three changed their stories.They all initially described the same person, then claimed they couldn't remember clearly.Why?What were they hiding?And why is our killer so intent on silencing them now, after all these years?"

Derik's grip tightened on the steering wheel."You think there's more to their testimonies than what's in the official reports?"

"I'm almost certain of it," Morgan replied, her voice low and intense."But what I can't figure out is how the killer knows.These inconsistencies, they weren't public knowledge.They'd be buried in police files, forgotten by most."

She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in her gesture."It's like they have inside information, Derik.But how?And why wait nearly two decades to act on it?"

As they drove through the quiet streets, Morgan's mind whirled with possibilities.Each theory seemed more outlandish than the last, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial, something that was right in front of them.

CHAPTER TEN

The flickering porch light cast an eerie glow across the overgrown yard as Morgan and Derik approached Sarah Winters' dilapidated house.Weeds choked the cracked driveway, their shadows dancing in the faint, uneven light.Morgan's heart raced, acutely aware of the late hour and the urgency of their mission.Sarah was one of the few remaining witnesses, and with each passing minute, the danger to her life increased.

Morgan glanced at her watch—1:58 a.m.She hesitated for a moment, her hand poised to knock."We can't wait until morning," she murmured to Derik, her voice barely audible above the chirping crickets.

Derik nodded grimly."I know.Let's hope she's home and willing to talk."

Morgan rapped sharply on the worn wooden door, the sound echoing in the quiet cul-de-sac.Seconds stretched into minutes as they waited, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

Just as Morgan was about to knock again, she heard movement inside.The porch creaked as someone approached, and Morgan instinctively straightened her posture, preparing for the encounter.

The door opened a crack, revealing a thin, pale face framed by disheveled hair.Sarah Winters peered out warily, her eyes darting between Morgan and Derik.

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