The obvious answer was Morgan. Varro’s death had protected her. But Patrick had already moved past that answer, because Morgan hadn't killed anyone and the method eliminated every civilian option. This was an operative. Someone with specific skills, specific training, specific access to a compound that had no commercial supply chain.
Someone who was, or had been, close enough to act quickly.
Someone who might still be in Pine Ridge.
Jack’s comment came back to him.There's no place safer for her than where she is.
That wasn’t simply reassurance. It was specific, weighted knowledge.
Patrick thought about Morgan’s grandfather. About how he'd built his life on the edge of a small town under the radar. How there was no record of him prior, save a property deed transfer from Eamon Sullivan’s estate.
He thought about NorthStar’s previous questions. Looking into thewho owned the campgroundquestion had indirectly led him to Frank—and Morgan. Researching Varro had led him andRiley to crime scenes being investigated by the Philadelphia ME’s office—and Morgan.
Everything came back to Morgan.
Suddenly, the need to see her again rose up in a wave he was no longer trying to hold back. He grabbed his phone, wondering if she was stillthinking.
Patrick:Are you busy?
Morgan:Just reading about Cold War era CIA programs
Her answer made him smile. Clearly, she’d seen NorthStar’s post too. Had she connected the dots and arrived at the same conclusion?
Patrick:Have dinner with me?
The reply took so long in coming, Patrick checked his phone several times to make sure he was still connected. Then:
Morgan:Okay. Where and when?
Patrick:My place, about 6?
Morgan:That works. Want me to bring anything?
Patrick:Just yourself
As soon as he hung up with Morgan, he made another call. “Hey Mom, got any suggestions for a chef-quality meal I can prepare in under three hours?”
29
JUST A COLLABORATION
MORGAN
The NorthStar posthad been up for several hours when Patrick's text arrived, and she was still trying to wrap her head around it.
Cold War provenance. The method is the message. Ask who benefits from the silence.
Everyone in the Thread had been invited for a reason. DeepTrace had pattern recognition that bordered on algorithmic. Archivist worked data and uncovered connections no one else would. Ledger found money trails that should have been invisible. Even Sextant, with the procedural questions and the careful sourcing, brought order and discipline. Halcyon had a knack for sorting through open-source haystacks and finding needles everyone else missed.
NorthStar brought questions.
Always questions. Never the answers—just the questions that subtly pointed them in the right direction, like a master conductor leading his orchestra.Who owned it before? Who was he working for?And now this one, which seemed like it might be the most important question of all.
Ask who benefits from the silence.
The thing about a puzzle—a real one, not the metaphorical kind—was that you couldn’t force the pieces. You could dig deep and come close, unable to see the bigger picture because of a “forest from the trees” situation. Then you’d step back, soften your gaze, and the shape would emerge from the noise.
She stepped back, and looked at the pieces she already had, starting with saxitoxin.