Page 33 of For Mercy

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."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The flickering blue light from the laptop screen cast eerie shadows across the dimly lit room, illuminating the man's expressionless face as he watched the news broadcast intently.His eyes, dark and unblinking, were fixed on the reporter's solemn visage as she delivered the latest update on the city's most shocking murder.

"Police are still investigating the brutal killing of Michelle Knox, the prominent real estate mogul found dead in her office late last night," the reporter announced, her voice grave."Authorities are growing increasingly concerned that this may be the work of a serial killer," the reporter continued gravely."This marks the second high-profile murder in as many days with strikingly similar MOs."

A slow, deliberate smile began to tug at the corners of the man's mouth.Serial killer.How quaint.How utterly simplistic.They had no idea of the true scope, the true purpose behind what he was doing.

His mind drifted back to Michelle Knox's final moments.He could picture it so clearly - her perfect manicure ruined as she clawed desperately at the set he’d created.

"All that time," he murmured to himself, savoring each word."All that panic.And you never once thought to check your own pocket."

He chuckled softly, remembering how he had slipped the small envelope into her blazer.Such a simple thing, really.But in her blind terror, her desperate scramble for salvation, she had overlooked the obvious.

"How fitting," he mused aloud."How utterly deserved."

It was poetic justice, really.Michelle Knox had built her empire on misdirection, on sleight of hand, on distracting people from what really mattered.And in the end, that very trait had been her undoing.

The killer interlaced his fingers, resting them gently on his abdomen as he reclined in the chair.His heartbeat remained slow and steady, a contrast to the frenzied rhythm that must have pounded in Michelle Knox's chest during her final moments.The world would call this murder, label him a monster, but he knew better.This was justice, pure and simple.

He closed his eyes, allowing a small smile to play across his lips."They'll never understand," he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper."How could they?They're blind to the truth."

Opening his eyes, he leaned forward, focusing once more on the laptop screen.The news anchor's voice droned on, painting Michelle Knox as a tragic victim, a pillar of the community struck down in her prime.

He scoffed."Pillar of the community," he repeated mockingly."If only they knew."

Pushing back from the desk, he stood and began to pace the room, his movements deliberate and controlled."Michelle Knox was no innocent victim," he said, his voice growing stronger with each word."None of them are.They wrap themselves in the trappings of success, of power.Hide behind their fancy titles and carefully crafted reputations."

He paused, running a hand through his hair."But I see them for what they truly are.Liars.Thieves.Destroyers of lives."

Turning back to the laptop, he studied Michelle Knox's smiling face on the screen.To the world, she had been a successful businesswoman, a philanthropist, a role model.But he knew the truth that lay beneath that carefully polished exterior.

"How many lives did you ruin, Michelle?"he asked the frozen image."How many dreams did you crush?How many families did you tear apart with your greed?"

He leaned in close to the screen, his voice dropping to a whisper."But now, you've faced true justice.And you're just the beginning."

His eyes drifted to a framed newspaper clipping on the wall, its headline bold and stark: "Judge Richard Hawthorne Found Dead."A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he approached it, fingers tracing the edge of the frame.

"Ah, Richard," he murmured, his voice a mix of contempt and satisfaction."You were no different, were you?"

He plucked the frame from the wall, studying the stern face of the late judge.Hawthorne's eyes, even in newsprint, seemed to glare back at him with cold authority.

"Your death had nothing to do with your lofty position, did it?"he mused aloud, pacing slowly."It wasn't about the black robe you wore or the gavel you wielded.No, it was about the man beneath all that pageantry."

He set the frame down on his desk, next to the laptop still displaying Michelle Knox's story.The juxtaposition of the two images seemed fitting.

"Cold," he spat, his voice rising."Callous.Heartless.A man who made decisions without a shred of care for the lives he ruined."

His mind drifted back to Hawthorne's final moments, the fear in those once-imperious eyes."And in the end, when faced with your own judgment, you failed spectacularly, didn't you, Richard?"

He chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth."Just like Michelle.Just like all of them.When the tables turn, when they're the ones facing true justice, they all fail."

Abruptly, he shook his head, as if clearing away cobwebs of memory."But there's no time for nostalgia," he muttered, his gaze hardening."No time to dwell on past victories."

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