Page 18 of For Mercy (Morgan Cross #16)

The city skyline loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the first pale streaks of dawn. Morgan gripped the steering wheel tighter as she maneuvered through the empty streets, her eyes burning with exhaustion. Beside her, Derik stifled a yawn.

"You okay to do this?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Morgan nodded curtly. "We need answers. Sleep can wait."

As they pulled into the coroner's office parking lot, Morgan's mind raced. Two murders, both staged in bizarre settings. What was the connection? What was the killer trying to prove?

She pushed open the car door, wincing as her ankle twinged. The break had mostly healed, but reminders of that night in the woods with her father still lingered. Morgan shoved the memory aside. Focus on the case, she told herself sternly.

"Let's go," she said to Derik, leading the way into the building.

The familiar antiseptic smell hit them as soon as they entered, making Morgan's stomach churn. Or maybe that was just the lack of sleep and coffee. Dr. Emerson, the chief medical examiner, greeted them with bloodshot eyes and rumpled scrubs.

"Agents," he said, his voice gravelly. "Follow me."

As they trailed after him down the stark hallway, Morgan's unease grew. What would they find? What new horrors awaited them?

Dr. Emerson pushed open the door to the examination room. The harsh lights made Morgan squint as they stepped inside. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the sheet-covered form on the steel table.

"Before we begin," Dr. Emerson said, "I need to warn you. This isn't like anything I've seen before."

Morgan's pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"

The doctor's tired eyes met hers. "There are... anomalies. Things that don't add up."

"Such as?" Derik prompted.

Dr. Emerson took a deep breath. "Well, for starters—"

He was cut off by a loud crash from the hallway. They all whirled around as a young lab tech burst through the door, his face pale.

"Doctor! You need to see this right away!"

Dr. Emerson frowned. "What is it, Jenkins?"

The tech thrust a tablet towards him, hands shaking. "The toxicology results just came back. And there's something else we found during the examination. You're not going to believe this."

Morgan watched as Dr. Emerson's eyes widened, scanning the information on the screen. His face drained of color.

"My God," he whispered.

Morgan's heart pounded. "What? What is it?"

Dr. Emerson looked up, his expression grave. "Agents, I'm afraid we have two rather shocking revelations about Ms. Knox's death."

Dr. Emerson's words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Morgan leaned forward, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as adrenaline surged through her veins.

"Tell us," she urged, her voice low and tense.

The coroner cleared his throat. "First, Michelle Knox was poisoned. But not just with any toxin. This was something rare, something I've never encountered before."

Morgan's brow furrowed. "What kind of poison are we talking about?"

"A carefully measured dose of a compound that caused a slow, systematic shutdown of her cardiovascular system," Dr. Emerson explained, his clinical tone belying the horror of his words.

"It didn't kill her instantly. Instead, it.

.. it allowed her to feel every excruciating moment as her body failed her. "

Derik inhaled sharply. "Jesus Christ."

"So she was conscious? Aware of what was happening to her?"

Dr. Emerson nodded grimly. "Based on our findings, yes. Her heart would have weakened gradually, her lungs struggling for air. She likely experienced intense pain and panic in her final minutes alive."

The room fell silent as the full weight of this revelation settled upon them. Morgan's stomach churned, imagining Michelle's terror and suffering.

"The killer," Morgan mused aloud, her voice barely above a whisper, "he didn't need to restrain her. The poison did that for him."

Dr. Emerson's expression tightened. "That's... that's not all, Agent Cross. There's a second revelation that's equally disturbing."

Morgan braced herself. "Go on."

The coroner reached for a small evidence bag on the nearby tray. Inside was a tiny glass vial, its contents clear and innocuous-looking.

"This was found tucked away in the inner lining of Ms. Knox's blazer," he said, holding it up. "It's the antidote."

Morgan's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

"A small, tightly sealed vial containing the exact compound needed to counteract the poison," Dr. Emerson confirmed. "It was in her pocket the entire time."

Morgan stared at the vial, her mind reeling with the implications. The killer hadn't just murdered Michelle Knox. He had turned her death into a twisted game, a test she was doomed to fail.

"He gave her a chance," Morgan murmured, her voice thick with horror and anger. "He poisoned her, but left the cure right there with her. Why? What kind of sick bastard are we dealing with?"

Derik shook his head, his face ashen. "This isn't just murder. This is... psychological torture."

Morgan's fists clenched at her sides. The pieces were starting to fit together, forming a picture that chilled her to her core. This wasn't a simple killing. This was something far more calculated, far more sinister.

She turned to Derik, her eyes blazing with determination. "We need to dig deeper. There has to be a connection between Knox and Hawthorne. This killer, he's playing games. And I've got a feeling he's far from finished."

Morgan's gaze remained fixed on the small vial, her mind struggling to process the cruel irony of its presence. She could almost see Michelle Knox in her final moments, frantic and desperate, tearing apart the staged hospital room in search of salvation. The image made her stomach churn.

"She never even thought to check herself," Morgan said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at Dr. Emerson, her eyes searching for confirmation. "The room was in disarray when we found her. She was looking for this, wasn't she?"

The coroner nodded grimly. "Based on the evidence, it appears Ms. Knox spent her final moments in a frenzied search. The toxicology report suggests she had about thirty minutes between ingestion and... the end."

Derik ran a hand through his hair, his face a mask of frustration. "Thirty minutes of terror, knowing you're dying, and the cure is right there in your pocket. It's beyond cruel."

Morgan's jaw clenched. She could feel the anger building inside her, a slow burn that threatened to consume her. "He wanted her to suffer," she said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "This wasn't just about killing her. It was about watching her struggle, fail, and die."

She turned away from the examination table, pacing the small room. "What kind of person does this? What's the point?"

Derik leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "Maybe it's about power? Control? Proving something?"

Morgan stopped, her eyes narrowing as a thought struck her. "Or testing something," she murmured. She spun back to face her partner and the coroner. "Think about it. Both victims were given a chance, however slim. It's like... like he's running some sort of sick experiment."

Dr. Emerson cleared his throat. "Agent Cross, if I may... This level of planning, of psychological manipulation... You're not dealing with an ordinary killer here."

Morgan nodded, her expression grim. "No, we're not. And that's what scares me the most." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Because if this is some kind of test or experiment, then we can be damn sure he's not done yet."

Morgan's mind churned, piecing together the gruesome puzzle before them.

She began to pace, her steps echoing in the quiet room.

"Think about it," she said, gesturing with her hands as she spoke.

"Judge Hawthorne, trapped in that makeshift courtroom.

Michelle Knox, surrounded by fake hospital equipment.

Both victims placed in staged settings, both given a way out. "

"But neither made it," Derik added, his voice grim.

Morgan stopped pacing, turning to face her partner.

"Exactly. Hawthorne's exit wasn't locked.

If he'd been just a few seconds faster, he could have walked out alive.

" She paused, swallowing hard as she remembered the judge's body, so close to freedom.

"And Michelle... her cure was in her own pocket.

But in her panic, she never thought to check. "

"Jesus," Derik muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What kind of monster does this?"

Morgan's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. "The kind that's not just killing for the sake of killing. He's testing them, Derik. But testing what?"

She resumed her pacing, her thoughts tumbling over each other. "Is it about their will to live? Their problem-solving skills under pressure? Or is it something else entirely?"

Derik pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Whatever it is, we need to figure it out fast. Because you're right, Morgan. This isn't just murder. It's a game. And I've got a feeling we've only seen the opening moves."

Morgan took a slow, deliberate breath, her eyes scanning the sterile room as if the answers might materialize on the cold, tiled walls. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders, but she forced herself to focus, to think.

"This killer," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "he's not just a murderer.

He's fashioning himself as some sort of.

.. twisted game master." She turned to Derik, her gaze intense.

"He's creating trials, Derik. Forcing his victims to play by his rules, and when they fail.

.." She trailed off, the implications hanging heavy in the air.

Derik nodded grimly. "But why these two? What's the connection between a federal judge and an investment analyst?"

Morgan's brow furrowed as she considered the question. "That's what we need to figure out. On the surface, they seem worlds apart. Different circles, different lives." She began to pace, her mind racing. "But there has to be a link. Something that ties them together in the killer's mind."

"Could be professional," Derik offered. "Maybe Knox was involved in a case Hawthorne presided over?"

"Possible," Morgan mused, "but my gut tells me it's more than that. This feels... personal somehow."

She stopped pacing abruptly, turning to face her partner.

"We need to dig deeper, Derik. Into both of them.

Their histories, their connections, everything.

Because now that we've confirmed the pattern—" She paused, the reality of what they were dealing with sinking in.

"Now that we know this is the work of a serial killer, one thing's certain. "

Derik met her gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes. "He's not finished," he said quietly.

Morgan nodded, a grim determination settling over her features.

"Exactly. And we need to find the connection between Knox and Hawthorne before he strikes again.

" She reached for her coat, her movements decisive.

"Let's head back to the office. We need to start combing through their lives, see if we can find any overlaps, any shared acquaintances, anything that might give us a clue as to why they were chosen. "