Page 39 of For Blood

Morgan shook her head."Nothing.It's like he's vanished into thin air."She paused, her jaw clenching."He knew exactly what he was doing, Derik.Every step of the way."

Derik nodded, his expression grim."We'll find him, Morgan.We have to."

"Do we?"Morgan's laugh was harsh, bitter."We didn't even know who we were looking for until last night.He's had twenty years to perfect his game, to cover his tracks."She ran a hand through her dark hair, disheveled from hours of restless pacing."How did we miss this?"

"Because he was one of us," Derik replied softly."Because sometimes the monsters wear badges too."

Morgan's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and determination."Well, this monster's time is up.I don't care if I have to tear this city apart brick by brick.We're going to find him, and we're going to make him pay for every life he's taken."

She turned back to face the precinct, her mind racing.The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place now, a picture so clear it was almost blinding.Whitaker had guided them toward the old cases, each nudge carefully calculated.He'd known exactly which strings to pull, which doubts to plant.

"Keller was never the killer," Morgan said, more to herself than to Derik."It was Whitaker all along."

Derik's hand found her shoulder, a gentle squeeze offering silent support."We'll get him, Morgan.We've got every available officer on this."

Morgan nodded, but her thoughts were already racing ahead.She'd been framed once before, sent to prison for a crime she didn't commit.She knew firsthand how the system could be manipulated, how easily the truth could be buried beneath layers of lies and misdirection.

"He won't make it easy," she said, her voice low and determined."But neither will we.I've spent ten years fighting to clear my name, to find the truth.I'm not about to let another killer slip through our fingers."

With a deep breath, Morgan straightened her shoulders and turned back toward the precinct.The weight of her past, the scars both visible and hidden, seemed to press down on her.But there was steel in her spine, forged in the fires of injustice and tempered by her unwavering pursuit of the truth.

"Let's get back in there," she said to Derik."We should talk to the other two witnesses.”

Inside the precinct, Morgan strode purposefully towards the interview room, her boots echoing in the sterile hallway.She paused at the door, taking a deep breath to center herself.The weight of her prison years, the betrayal by her own agency, threatened to crush her.But she pushed it down, locking it away.There would be time for that later.

She entered the room, her gaze immediately falling on Gregory Phillips and Sarah Winters.The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across their faces, emphasizing the fear and exhaustion etched into their features.

Phillips sat hunched forward, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.His expression was a mask of stoic indifference, but Morgan caught the slight tremor in his hands, the way his eyes darted nervously around the room.

"Mr.Phillips," Morgan said, her voice low and controlled."I need you to think back.Is there anything, anything at all, that you remember about Whitaker from the original investigation?"

Phillips' forehead creased deeply, like a man grappling with a particularly challenging puzzle."I...I don't know," he mumbled, his gaze fixed on the table."It was so long ago.I was drunk that night, like I told you before."

Morgan leaned forward, her palms flat on the table."I understand that, but I need you to try.Even the smallest detail could be crucial."

She watched him carefully, noting the way he shifted in his seat, the subtle tightening of his jaw.There was something there, just beneath the surface.Something he wasn't saying.

"Gregory," she said, softening her tone slightly."I know you're scared.But Whitaker is out there, and he's not going to stop.We need your help to catch him before anyone else gets hurt."

Phillips looked up then, meeting Morgan's gaze for the first time.In his eyes, she saw a flicker of something – recognition, maybe, or a long-buried memory struggling to surface.

"There was...there was something," he said hesitantly."About his watch.I remember thinking it was odd for a cop to have such an expensive-looking watch."

Morgan's pulse quickened.It wasn't much, but it was a start."Can you describe it?"

As Phillips began to speak, Morgan allowed herself a moment of grim satisfaction.They were making progress.Slowly, painfully, they were unraveling Whitaker's web of lies.And when they found him – because they would find him – Morgan would make damn sure he paid for every life he'd destroyed.

Including hers.

Sarah Winters slammed her fist on the table, her eyes blazing with a fury that seemed to radiate through the sterile room."You're wrong!All of you!"she shouted, her voice cracking."Whitaker isn't the killer.He never was.The real killer is dead.Andrew Keller killed my sister, and now he's burning in hell where he belongs!"

Morgan felt her jaw tighten, the muscles in her neck tensing as she fought to keep her composure.She'd seen this kind of denial before, but never with such raw intensity.Sarah's pain was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog.

"Sarah," Morgan began, her voice low and controlled, "I know this is difficult to hear, but—"

"No!"Sarah cut her off, rising from her chair."This is someone else.Some new threat is trying to finish what was started years ago.Keller was the monster.He took Sadie from me.That's the truth.It has to be."

Morgan didn't argue.Not yet.She understood Sarah's desperation all too well.The weight of a belief held for so long, a truth that had become the very foundation of one's existence.Morgan had lived with her own version of that for ten years in prison, clinging to the certainty of her innocence even as the world branded her a monster.

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