Page 11 of For Mercy

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene."Perfect spot for a murder, though.Isolated, forgotten..."She trailed off, her mind already racing ahead, piecing together the killer's possible motivations.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Morgan paused, her nostrils flaring slightly.Beneath the musty odor of mildew and rot, there was something else.Something metallic.Blood.

"You smell that?"she asked Derik, her voice low.

He nodded grimly.

They pushed through a set of rusted double doors, and Morgan felt her breath catch in her throat.The scene before her was so incongruous, so utterly bizarre, that for a moment she wondered if she'd stepped into some twisted funhouse mirror version of reality.

"What the hell?"Derik breathed beside her.

Before them stood a meticulously crafted facsimile of a courtroom.The judge's bench loomed at the far end, flanked by a jury box and witness stand.But this was no place of justice.This was a mockery, a cruel parody built from plywood and cheap veneer.

Morgan tried to process the scene.Why here?Why like this?The symbolism was obvious, almost heavy-handed.But what was the killer trying to say?

"It's like a stage set," she murmured, taking a cautious step forward.Her eyes swept over every detail, cataloging, analyzing."But who was the audience supposed to be?"

Derik moved beside her, his posture tense."Just the judge, maybe?Some kind of sick game?"

Morgan nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the empty judge's chair."Yeah.A game where the stakes were life and death."She turned to Derik, her expression grim."And our victim lost."

As they moved deeper into the mock courtroom, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.Not by the killer – he was long gone – but by something else.The weight of judgement, perhaps.Or the ghosts of injustices past.

Morgan's pulse quickened as her eyes adjusted to the harsh glare of the forensic lights.The makeshift courtroom, once shrouded in darkness, now revealed its sinister secrets under the unforgiving illumination.

"Jesus," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper."It would've been pitch black when they brought him in.Can you imagine?Waking up here, alone in the dark?"

Derik's jaw tightened."A final judgment."

Morgan nodded, her mind racing."The victim was the only audience.This whole setup...it was for him."

She took a careful step forward, her trained eyes scanning every inch of the space.As she moved, the hidden details began to emerge, each one more horrifying than the last.

"Watch your step," she warned Derik, her voice tight with tension."This isn't just a crime scene.It's a death trap."

Before them lay an intricate web of destruction, something pulled straight from a nightmare.Trip wires glinted in the harsh light, stretched taut across the floor.Crude blades hung suspended, poised to strike at the slightest provocation.Every surface seemed rigged with some deadly mechanism, waiting to be triggered.

"It's like a twisted game of Mousetrap," she muttered, crouching to examine a particularly complex contraption."Whoever did this wanted the victim to trigger his own death."

As she studied the elaborate setup, a nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind.The level of planning, the meticulous attention to detail...it reminded her of something.Or someone.

Morgan turned to Derik, her eyes locking with his.The unspoken understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of what they were facing.This wasn't some heat-of-the-moment crime; it was a calculated, meticulously planned execution.

"This is way beyond a typical homicide," Derik murmured, his green eyes scanning the mock courtroom."The level of detail, the precision..."

Before Morgan could respond, an officer approached, his face grim."Agents, we've confirmed the victim's identity.It's Federal Judge Richard Hawthorne."

The name hit Morgan like a punch to the gut.She'd heard of Hawthorne - a man known for his tough sentencing and controversial rulings.A man who'd made plenty of enemies over the years.

"A federal judge," Morgan said, her voice low."Christ, this is going to be a shitstorm."

She couldn't help but think of her own experiences with the justice system, of the years stolen from her by corruption and lies.Had Hawthorne been part of that system?Or was he a target because he'd tried to fight against it?

"This wasn't just a murder," Morgan said, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the grotesque scene once more."This was a message.A very loud, very clear message."

Derik nodded, his jaw tightening."The question is, who was it meant for?And why go to all this trouble?"

Morgan connected dots, searching for patterns.Could this be related to Cordell?To her father?Or was this an entirely new player entering the game?

---