Page 39 of For Mercy

"If you're wrong, we might prevent another murder," Derik said firmly."We have to check it out."

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the parking garage.As they walked to Derik's car, Morgan felt the weight of her exhaustion, the pressure of the case, and the ever-present shadow of her own past pressing down on her.But beneath it all, there was a spark of determination.They would find this killer, no matter what it took.

***

Morgan's eyes swept over the modest single-story house before her, taking in every detail.The neatly trimmed lawn, its blades of grass standing at perfect attention, seemed to mock the chaos of her own life.The freshly painted porch gleamed in the afternoon sun, its pristine white conflicting with the darkness of the case that had brought them here.

As she and Derik approached the front door, Morgan noticed the curtains in the front window stirring gently in the breeze.It was all so...normal.So innocuous.The kind of place you'd expect to find a friendly neighbor, not a potential murderer.

"Doesn't exactly scream 'psychopath's lair,' does it?"she murmured to Derik.

He shook his head, his expression grim."They never do."

Morgan raised her hand to knock, but hesitated for a moment."What if we're wrong about this, Derik?What if we're chasing the wrong lead while the real killer is out there planning their next move?"

Derik's hand squeezed her shoulder briefly."We follow every lead, Morgan.That's the job."

She nodded, steeling herself, and rapped sharply on the door.For a long moment, there was silence.Then, the sound of footsteps approaching.

The door swung open, and Morgan found herself face to face with Carl Worth.Her breath caught in her throat.The man before her looked nothing like the enraged figure she'd seen in the courtroom photos.This Carl Worth seemed...diminished.Older than his years, his face lined with a grief that had settled into something quiet but permanent.

"Can I help you?"he asked, his voice rough with disuse.

Morgan cleared her throat."Mr.Worth?I'm Agent Cross, and this is Agent Greene.We're with the FBI.We'd like to ask you a few questions if that's alright."

Carl's eyes flickered between them, a shadow of something—pain?fear?—passing over his features.For a moment, Morgan thought he might refuse them entry.But then his shoulders sagged, and he stepped back, gesturing them inside.

As they followed him into a living room that smelled faintly of lemon furniture polish and old books, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial.The pieces of the puzzle were there, she was sure of it.But how they fit together...that was still frustratingly out of reach.

Carl Worth's eyes darkened as he caught sight of their badges, his jaw clenching visibly.Morgan tensed, ready for hostility, but as she explained their presence, something in Carl's expression shifted.The anger drained away, replaced by a weariness that seemed bone-deep.

"Michelle Knox," he murmured, sinking into an armchair."I heard about what happened to her on the news.Terrible business."

Morgan studied him, her instincts on high alert."Mr.Worth, we understand you had a...history with Ms.Knox.We need to ask you about your whereabouts during the time of her murder."

Carl didn't flinch.He met her gaze steadily, his voice calm as he replied, "I was at my sister-in-law's house.Linda's.We were going through some of my brother's old things.She can confirm it."

As Carl continued to answer their questions without hesitation, providing a solid alibi for both murders, Morgan felt a growing sense of unease.This wasn't the reaction she'd expected.Where was the bitterness, the lingering resentment?

"Mr.Worth," she probed, leaning forward slightly, "can you tell us about your brother?About what happened with Ms.Knox?"

Something flickered in Carl's eyes—not anger, but a deep, abiding sorrow."My brother was a good man," he said softly."What happened to him...it was senseless.Cruel.For a long time, I couldn't understand how someone could just walk by, ignore a person in need like that."

Morgan's pulse quickened.This was it—the moment of revelation she'd been waiting for.But Carl's next words caught her off guard.

"But blaming her...it didn't bring him back.It didn't change anything.I had to learn to let go of that anger, or it would have consumed me."

As Carl spoke about his brother, his voice steady and filled with a quiet acceptance, Morgan felt her certainty crumble.This wasn't the vengeful relative she'd expected to find.This was a man who had faced his grief and come out the other side.

She glanced at Derik, seeing her own surprise mirrored in his eyes.They'd been so sure, but now...Now, they were back at square one, with a killer still on the loose and no leads to follow.

Carl's gaze drifted to a framed photo on the mantle—a smiling man who bore a striking resemblance to him.His brother.He turned back to Morgan and Derik, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I went to therapy," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper."It took time, but I learned to accept that my brother's death wasn't Michelle Knox's fault.She made a terrible choice that day, but she didn't cause his heart attack."

Morgan leaned forward, her tattooed arms resting on her knees.She studied Carl's face, searching for any hint of deception.But all she saw was a man who had walked through fire and come out transformed.

"Mr.Worth," she said, her voice gentler than before, "can you tell us more about how you came to terms with what happened?"

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