Page 12 of For Blood

"Did you find any connections between the victims?"she asked, her voice taut with focus.

Whitaker shook his head, frustration evident in the set of his jaw."Nothing concrete.Different ages, backgrounds, no overlap in their social circles that we could find.But the staging...it was too deliberate to ignore.”

Morgan nodded, understanding all too well the gut feeling that sometimes defied hard evidence.“But now that we have a new victim, we can draw a connection between Rachel and Maria,” Morgan said.

“That’s right, but back then, there were no connections between the four.No one would listen," Whitaker continued, his voice rising slightly."Said I was chasing ghosts, trying to make a name for myself before retirement."He laughed bitterly."As if I wanted this to be true."

Morgan watched the play of emotions across the former detective's face – anger, regret, a bone-deep weariness.She recognized that look.It was the same one she'd seen in her own mirror countless times during her quest for answers about her past.

"What did they say was missing?"Derik asked, speaking up for the first time."To link the cases officially?"

Whitaker's shoulders slumped."Everything.No matching DNA.Stab wounds could be from the same type of knife, but a generic kitchen knife wasn’t enough.The time between kills varied.And the posing...they said it was too subjective to be considered a real signature."

Morgan felt a surge of empathy for the man across from her.To see a pattern so clearly, to feel the weight of unsolved murders, and to be dismissed – it was a special kind of torment.

"But you kept digging anyway," she said softly.It wasn't a question.

Whitaker met her eyes, a spark of defiance still burning there."Until they took me off active duty.Said I was too obsessed, letting it cloud my judgment."He sighed heavily."Maybe they were right.But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were missing something huge.That these people deserved justice."

Morgan nodded, feeling the weight of her own unsolved mysteries pressing down on her.She thought of Thomas, of the truths revealed too late, of the family connection she'd never had the chance to explore.

"We'll look into it," she said firmly."Fresh eyes, fresh perspective.If there's a connection, we'll find it."

Whitaker studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly."I hope you do," he said quietly."Because if I'm right, and these murders are linked...Rachel Martinez might not be the end of it.The cycle could be restarting."

The implications of his words hung heavy in the air between them.Morgan exchanged a glance with Derik, seeing her own determination reflected in his eyes.They had come looking for answers about one murder but now found themselves staring down the barrel of a potential serial killer's twisted gallery.

Whitaker leaned forward, his weathered hands clasped tightly on the table.The dim light of the coffee shop cast deep shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there."There's something else you need to know about the Santos case," he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

Morgan felt her muscles tense, her body instinctively preparing for whatever revelation was coming.She'd learned long ago that in this line of work, bombshells rarely brought good news.

"Rachel Martinez," Whitaker continued, "her testimony...it was a mess."

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed."How so?"

Whitaker sighed, running a hand through his steel-gray hair."At first, she claimed she only saw a shadow.Just a vague figure standing over Maria's body.Too far away to make out any details."

Morgan nodded, jotting down notes.Her mind raced, already connecting dots."But that changed?"

"Oh, it changed alright," Whitaker confirmed, a hint of frustration coloring his tone."A few weeks later, she comes in saying she got a good look at the guy.Tall, dark hair.Even mentioned a leather jacket."

Morgan's pen paused mid-stroke.She glanced up, meeting Whitaker's tired eyes."We saw the interview, but that's quite a shift in story.I didn’t realize she had already spoken before that."

Whitaker nodded grimly."You're telling me.I couldn't shake the feeling she was holding something back.Whether it was fear, guilt, or something else entirely...I couldn't say."

"What happened next?"she prompted, pushing aside the ghosts of her past.

"Rachel withdrew," Whitaker said, his shoulders sagging slightly."Clammed up completely.Refused to provide any more details, no matter how we approached her."

Morgan's mind whirled with possibilities.Had Rachel truly seen the killer?Was she lying to protect someone?Or had fear silenced her?The questions multiplied, each one adding another layer of complexity to an already tangled web.

"Did you ever figure out why she changed her story?"Morgan asked, her voice carefully neutral.

Whitaker shook his head."That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?We tried everything.Gentle persuasion, good cop/bad cop, the works.But Rachel...she just shut down."

Morgan nodded, her jaw set in determination.She'd been on both sides of an interrogation table, and she knew the dance all too well.Whatever had silenced Rachel back then, it was now their job to uncover it.

The scrape of leather against wood broke the tense silence as Whitaker leaned down, his weathered hands disappearing beneath the table.Morgan's eyes narrowed, her body instinctively tensing.Years in prison had honed her survival instincts to a razor's edge, and old habits died hard.

---