Page 9 of For Wrath

Morgan's gazelingered on the screen for another moment, a sour taste in her mouth as shetried to reconcile the man before her with the brutal crime scene she hadwitnessed earlier. She sighed, accepting that despite being a real piece ofwork, Trevor was not responsible for Sheryl's death.

The real killerwas still out there, and time was of the essence.

"Alright,"Morgan finally said, tearing her eyes away from the footage. "It seems youhave an alibi, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook completely. I'll be intouch, and I'd advise you not to leave town while the investigation is stillongoing."

Trevor swallowed,his face pale and sweaty. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, AgentCross." He looked like a man who knew his life was unraveling, and Morgancouldn't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at the thought. She made a mentalnote to follow up on Amelia's accusations; if Trevor wasn't directly involvedin Sheryl's murder, he might still know something valuable.

Just as sheturned to leave, her cell phone rang, the sound cutting through the noise ofgym patrons grunting and clanking weights. She glanced at the caller ID,recognizing the number as Mueller's.

"Excuseme," she said to Trevor, already moving toward the exit as she answeredthe call. His eyes followed her, a mixture of relief and fear etched onto hisface.

Morgan steppedout of the gym, squinting against the harsh midday sun that glared off thepavement. The summer heat hit her like a wall, and she could feel beads ofsweat beginning to form along her hairline. She sighed as she answered thecall, not particularly eager to hear Mueller's voice again.

"Crosshere," she said, irritation seeping into her tone.

"Cross, it'sMueller."

"Iknow," Morgan said. They hadn't spoken since their last sour conversation,and Morgan wasn't thrilled to talk to him again. But it was for the case, shereminded herself.

"We've gotsome new intel on Sheryl Stewart's murder." His voice was strained."You're not going to believe this."

"Goahead," Morgan replied, her impatience mounting.

"Alright,"he said. "The coroner just finished examining the body. Cause of death?Silicon injections in all major nerves. The victim had already undergonesuccessful plastic surgeries, but these injections were recent."

Morgan's browfurrowed as she processed the information. Silicon injections? It didn't makesense. She glanced back at the gym, her mind racing with possibilities. IfTrevor wasn't the killer, then who was?

"Siliconinjections?" she echoed, incredulity creeping into her voice. "Areyou sure?"

"Positive,"Mueller confirmed. "Looks like someone injected silicon directly into hernerves. It must have been excruciatingly painful."

Morgan felt acold shiver run down her spine, despite the heat. This wasn't the work of anaverage killer; this was something far more sinister. "This means our perphas surgical expertise," she mused aloud, the pieces slowly falling intoplace.

"Seems thatway," Mueller agreed. "We're dealing with someone who knew exactlywhat they were doing – and how to inflict maximum pain before killing theirvictim."

Morgan stared atthe bustling street, suddenly feeling very alone. A doctor or a surgeon wouldhave easy access to silicon and the knowledge of how to use it. But who wouldwant to kill Sheryl in such a horrific manner? And why?

"Alright,Mueller," Morgan said, determination creeping into her voice. "I'llfind out who this monster is."

"Roger that,Agent Cross," Mueller replied. There was a quiet pause on the other end."And thanks for doing this."

With that, hehung up.

Morgan stoodthere on the street, clenching her phone in her hand. She wanted to tellMueller not to thank her--she wasn't doing this for him, or the FBI, or evenDerik. She was doing it for the victims.

But this newpiece of information helped build up a profile in her mind. She had an idea ofwho to look for now--someone with surgical expertise. As much as she didn'ttrust him right now, she needed to run this by Derik. He was technically stillher partner, so she set out toward the hospital.

CHAPTER FIVE

Morgan's heelsclicked against the sterile linoleum floor as she approached Derik's hospitalroom. Her mind raced with thoughts of the crime scene she'd left behindearlier, unable to erase the image of Sheryl from her thoughts. Morgan had seena lot of crimes, but something about this one truly chilled her to the core.Sheryl's face was sliced and stretched into a grotesque facsimile of a facelift.It was disturbing.

But with hergold-digging ex-husband eliminated as a suspect, Morgan had to look forward.The coroner's report only deepened the mystery. Silicone injections in all ofSheryl's major nerves – Morgan was certain they were dealing with someone whohad a surgical background.

Her confidencefaltered as she neared the door. Seeing Derik again stirred up a whirlwind ofconflicted emotions. The trust had been the foundation of their partnership,but lately, it had crumbled beneath the weight of unspoken secrets. Shecouldn't shake the memory of finding files on Darren La Roux – the man who'dtried to kill her, who she'd killed in self-defense – hidden in Derik's house.She needed to confront him, but how could she? Derik didn't know Morgan hadkilled Darren, and she couldn't let him find out.

Morgan took adeep breath, her fingers curling around the cold metal handle of Derik'shospital room door. The faint smell of disinfectant and stale air seeped intoher nostrils as she pushed the door open. Her eyes immediately found Deriklying on the bed with an IV drip attached to his arm. Though his face was stillpale, a hint of color had returned to his cheeks. He had lost a lot of blood ontheir last case, but he seemed to be recovering well.

"Hey,"he said weakly, attempting a smile. "You made it."

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