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"Thomas?" Morgan asked sharply. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
He stopped in front of her, panting slightly from the heat. "I heard you were working this case and around this precinct," he said, his voice tense. "I thought we had plans, remember?"
Morgan's confusion deepened. She didn't recall making any plans with him, and the last phone call they'd had left her feeling furious and betrayed. She narrowed her eyes at Thomas, taking in the lines of worry on his face, and wondered what game he was playing now.
"Plans?" she repeated, crossing her arms defensively. "We had no plans, Thomas. And even if we did, I'm not sure I'd want to see you after our conversation last night."
Thomas's expression faltered, and for a moment, Morgan saw something like hurt flash in his eyes. But then he straightened his shoulders and met her gaze squarely. "Morgan, I know things got... heated between us," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But I'm here because I care about you, and I want to help."
Derik's face hardened as he looked at Thomas, his protective instincts kicking in. "You need to back off," he told him, his voice firm and unwavering.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Thomas shot back, taking a step towards Derik, his fists clenched at his sides. The tension between them crackled like an electric wire, filling the air with danger.
"Derik, Thomas, please—" Morgan began, but her words were drowned out by their growing anger and frustration.
"Stay out of this," Derik warned Thomas, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "This isn't your case, and it isn't your place to be here."
"Like I said, I'm here because I care about Morgan," Thomas retorted, his voice full of venom. "More than you ever could."
"Enough!" Morgan shouted, stepping between the two men just as their tempers threatened to erupt into something physical. She felt the heat radiating off their bodies, their muscles tense and coiled like springs. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline making her senses sharp and focused.
"Both of you, just stop. This is not helping anyone, and we have more important things to focus on right now." She looked at Thomas, her expression resolute. "Thomas, I appreciate that you want to help, but I've got this under control. You need to leave."
For a moment, Thomas seemed ready to argue, but then he let out a long, frustrated breath and stepped back. His gaze met Morgan's, a mixture of hurt and determination in his eyes. "Fine," he said, his voice low and steady. "But this isn't over, Morgan. Not by a long shot."
With one last lingering look, Thomas turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty parking lot. Morgan watched him go, her chest tight with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite untangle - anger, guilt, and something else that made her feel even more uncertain.
"Are you okay?" Derik asked quietly, his concern evident in his tone and the way he studied her face.
Morgan nodded, forcing herself to let go of the tension coiled within her. "I'm fine," she said, though the words felt hollow even to her own ears. "Let's just focus on the case."
As they climbed into the car and began their drive to the hospital, Morgan couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever be able to truly escape the tangled web of her past, or if it would always find a way to ensnare her when she least expected it.
***
The car hummed beneath them, the low rumble of the engine filling the silence that stretched between Morgan and Derik. The sun cast long shadows across the dashboard, and Morgan watched as they slowly crawled along with the car, her thoughts a tangled mess she couldn't quite unravel.
"Thomas was lying," she said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of anger and frustration rippling beneath the surface. "We had no plans to meet up. I'm not with him."
Derik glanced over at her, his eyes softening with understanding. "I figured as much," he admitted, keeping one hand on the wheel as they wove through the traffic. "And I just wanted to say...it's none of my business what you do with Thomas. I was out of line before, trying to interfere like that. After everything I did... I don't have any right to comment on your life."
Morgan looked at him, surprised by his apology. "You're damn right you don't, but the point remains; Thomas is full of shit."
Derik nodded, his expression tight. Morgan sighed. Her mind wandered back to the dream she had and her memory of asking Mueller about her father last night. Derik was the one who'd left the photo of her father from his time in the FBI on her porch. Even though he'd denied knowing anything before, maybe he'd be more willing to open up now.
"Derik," Morgan said, "if you really want things to recover between us, I need you to be honest with me. Was my father truly in the FBI, or was that photo fake?"
Derik glanced at her, his jaw tight. "I... I don't know. The men who were blackmailing me sent me the photo. You know I knew your father well. I was at his funeral. I don't know if the photo was real or fake or what."
Morgan nodded. She couldn't explain it, but she believed him. "I asked Mueller if he knew my father, Christopher Cross. He didn't know who I was talking about, but in that photo, they're together. So either Mueller is lying, or..."
Derik frowned. "Maybe your father went by a different name by then. He never came by the office, and he lived off the grid. Now that I think about it, I don't think I ever saw him and Mueller in the same place."
"And we're talking about before I was born... forty years ago, maybe more," Morgan said. "If my dad was in the FBI, then left and changed his identity... what was he hiding from?"
The weight of Morgan's question hung in the air. She didn't know how, but she had the feeling that her father was the connection. The connection between the men who framed her... and why they'd done it.
"Did they want to get rid of me because of him?" Morgan asked, her eyes burning. "Why? He's already dead... what did I ever do to them?"
