Page 50 of For Blood

Sarah's mind drifted to the careful planning of the past months.Each step had been meticulously calculated, each target chosen with the precision of a surgeon excising a tumor.She had become a ghost, slipping in and out of lives, learning routines, exploiting weaknesses.Just as Andrew Keller had once done.

Sarah's gaze hardened as she recalled the faces of those who had already paid the price.Rachel Martinez, the nurse whose wavering testimony had cast doubt on Sarah's account.Thomas Burke, the man who'd claimed he couldn't be sure what he'd seen that night.And Vanessa Shaw, Sarah's own friend, who had recanted her statement entirely.

She observed the beads of sweat forming on Gregory's brow, the way his eyes darted nervously around the cell.He hadn't spoken in what felt like hours, but Sarah knew it was only a matter of time.The weight of his guilt, the fear of what was to come, would eventually break him.

As she sat there, Sarah felt a sense of inevitability wash over her.Everything had led to this moment.All the pain, all the sleepless nights, all the years of being dismissed and doubted – it was all coming to a head.And she was ready.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

The engine roared as Morgan pushed the accelerator to the floor, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.Dallas streets blurred past, the familiar grid of the city warping into a dizzying maze as her mind raced faster than the car.She was wrong.So goddamn wrong about everything.

And she had thought about it.All the pieces suddenly snapping into place with sickening clarity.Sarah's bitterness, her anger at the system that had failed her friend.The way she'd clung to her story about Keller for two decades, refusing to let it go.

"Shit," Morgan hissed, swerving around a slower car.The precinct loomed ahead, its stolid brick facade offering no comfort.Gregory Phillips was in there.Alone.With a killer.

Her mind flashed to the crime scene photos.Rachel Martinez, splayed out like a broken doll.The man in the park curled into himself as if seeking protection even in death.How long had Sarah been planning this?How long had that rage been festering inside her, twisting her into something monstrous?

Morgan's stomach churned.She'd looked Sarah in the eye, had felt sympathy for her loss.And all along...

The tires screeched as she whipped into the parking lot, the car fishtailing slightly before she brought it under control.She barely remembered to throw it into park before she was out the door, sprinting toward the entrance.

"Agent Cross?"The desk sergeant's confused voice barely registered as Morgan barreled past him.

The station was eerily quiet, most of the officers still out searching for Whitaker.Morgan's footsteps echoed in the empty hallways as she raced toward the holding cells.Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else until—

A muffled thud.The scrape of something heavy against the floor.

"No," Morgan breathed, picking up speed."No, no, no."

She skidded around the corner, nearly losing her footing on the polished linoleum.The holding area came into view, and with it, the sounds of a desperate struggle.

Morgan's hand flew to her hip, reaching for her weapon, only to close on empty air.She'd left her gun in the car, too frantic to remember it in her rush.

"Dammit," she snarled, sprinting the last few yards to the cell.She had to stop this.She had to make it right.

Because if Gregory Phillips died, it wouldn't just be Sarah's fault.It would be hers too.She'd brought them here, thinking she was protecting them.Instead, she'd locked an innocent man in a cage with a killer.

Just like she'd been locked away all those years ago.

The irony wasn't lost on her as she reached for the cell door, praying she wasn't too late.

Morgan's eyes widened in horror as she took in the scene before her.Sarah Winters, her face contorted with rage, straddled Gregory Phillips on the cold concrete floor.Her hands were wrapped around his throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a savage intensity.Gregory's face had turned an alarming shade of purple, his eyes bulging as he weakly clawed at Sarah's wrists.His legs kicked feebly, but it was clear his strength was fading fast.

"Get off him!"Morgan shouted, her voice raw with panic.

Sarah didn't even flinch, her focus entirely on the man beneath her.Gregory's struggles grew weaker by the second, his eyes starting to roll back in his head.

"Shit," Morgan hissed, fumbling with her key ring.Her hands shook as she tried to find the right key, precious seconds ticking away."Come on, come on!"

Finally, she jammed the correct key into the lock, twisting it with such force she was afraid it might snap.The second she heard the telltale click, Morgan threw her weight against the door, nearly stumbling as it swung open.

Without hesitation, she lunged at Sarah.Morgan's fingers dug into the woman's shoulders, using every ounce of strength she had to wrench her off of Gregory.The sudden movement caught Sarah off guard, and she toppled backwards with a startled yelp.

"What have you done?"Morgan demanded, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at Sarah in disbelief.

Sarah's eyes, wild and unfocused, locked onto Morgan's.For a moment, Morgan saw a flicker of the grief-stricken woman she'd interviewed earlier.But it was quickly consumed by something darker, more primal.

"What needed to be done," Sarah snarled, her chest heaving."What you should have done years ago."

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