The offer sounded helpful and loyal, which is what a worried son and community member would say. But Morgan had to keep an eye on whether his crime scene staging was still holding up and stay ahead of any forensic evidence that might lead him in unexpected directions.
The best way to control the flow of information was to volunteer to look into things. Murphy looked at him with that knowing look that is so typical of him.
His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he were trying to see into Morgan's head and read his mind. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension that Morgan could feel but couldn't quite put into words.
Murphy finally said, "That's very kind of you, son."
"The Council is grateful for your hard work." Another pause, this one with more meaning. "But I have to wonder if you're too close to this to be objective, since your father is involved and you're close to David."
Everyone in the chapel was quiet again, watching the father and son talk. Morgan kept his face blank as he waited.
"But maybe that's why you should get involved," Murphy said after a pause. "You knew David."
"You know what we're making. And yes..."
"You can verify it out, but please keep us up-to-date. Directly to me."
There were clear conditions for approval. Morgan got what he wanted, but Murphy was clearly keeping a closer eye on him now.
The phrase "directly to me" made it sound like there was more than just reporting going on. Even though he agreed to the request, his father was clearly suspicious.
"Of course, Father," Morgan said, bowing his head. "I'll start tomorrow."
The meeting went on for another hour, during which Murphy talked about security measures and changes to procedures that would be put in place after Chen's death. Morgan's mind rapidly shifted, anticipating the implications of this news for his plans.
He had gotten close to the investigation, but that also meant that more people were watching him. When the meeting was over, members of the Council left in small groups, talking quietly among themselves.
Morgan stayed behind and watched Claire walk toward the door. She looked at him once, her face blank, and then she left without saying anything.
Morgan was almost at the door when Murphy's voice stopped him. "Oh! One moment, son."
When he turned around, he saw his father standing near the altar with his hands clasped in front of him. They were alone now, and the chapel felt even smaller and more cramped without anyone else around.
Murphy said, "You've been acting differently lately."
His voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "Since the outbreak started. It feels like you have information you shouldn't have..."
Morgan's heart rate went up, but he kept his face calm. "Everyone has changed because the end of the world is near."
"We can't just stay the same without making a change. Isn't that right?"
"Is it?" Murphy turned his head a little. "Or is it coming back to life?"
"Morgan, your perspective is important. The way you think about things affects the reality you live in."
Father and son stood there in the candlelight, both of them pretending to be someone else while hiding their true feelings. Morgan could feel Murphy's suspicion, and he knew that his father knew something was wrong, even if he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
Murphy finally told him to "Get some rest."
"Tomorrow will be a busy day. It will take hard work and attention to detail to find David's killer."
Morgan nodded and left, but he could feel Murphy's eyes on him the whole way to the door while he asked himself in his mind. "Day by day I start to notice that his eyes slowly changed seeing me... will he ever know the truth?"
...
The night air outside felt beneficial after the chapel's stuffy atmosphere. Morgan took out his phone and checked news feeds and social media as he walked, doing it quickly and easily. Rachel Kim's article had gone viral while they were meeting, spreading across platforms at an incredible rate.
"Statistical Impossibility: Geographic Patterns in Global Disappearances Suggest Non-Random Selection" was the headline. Morgan quickly looked through it and saw that Rachel was very analytical.
She made maps that showed a link between disappearances and certain groups of people. The patterns of clustering on the maps suggested that people were choosing to disappear deliberately, not by accident.
The article gave me hope that someone could uncover scientific truth in all the craziness. Rachel's careful conclusion that "this pattern suggests intentional selection, not random catastrophe" was just the kind of proof Morgan needed to finally show what was really going on.
Murphy had already posted a reply on the church's social media channels by the time he got home. Morgan sat at his desk, reading his father's spin and feeling more and more hopeless.
Murphy had written, "You've seen the article."
"The scientist has confirmed what we've always known in our hearts."
"This wasn't by chance, but choice. A God's choice."
"The pattern she found is God's fingerprint. It's not a mess nor by chance. But it's an intentional, purposeful, and meaningful choice."
The post went on to turn scientific correlation into religious prophecy with terrifying ease. "She calls it 'not random.' We call it Providence. It's the same truth, but different words."
"What faith already knew has been proven by science. We were picked, and you were picked. This journalist has proven that God's plan is real."
Comments were already pouring in, with both council members and members of the congregation sharing and praising Murphy's interpretation. Rachel's attempt to make sense of things had been taken over and used as a weapon within hours.
Morgan shut his laptop and leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. Murphy stopped him at every turn.
Chen's death made him a martyr, which made the Council stronger. Rachel's article, which was meant to reveal the truth, became proof of God's choice.
Morgan's offer to look into things made people pay more attention to him. Murphy got what he wanted from every action because it had an equal and opposite reaction.
He was playing chess while his dad played something much harder and always stayed three moves ahead, turning every setback into an advantage. How did you fight someone who had such complete control over the story?
Claire sent him a text message that made his phone buzz. "Can we talk tomorrow? I have a question for you."
Morgan looked at the message, looking for hidden meanings that might not be there. Was this real worry, or had Murphy already started using her to spy on him? He had a good reason to be paranoid, but it might have kept him from seeing other dangers.
He typed back a short "Sure."
"Coffee shop at ten?" He got a quick "yes" back.
Morgan took out his planning materials and spread notebooks and pictures all over his desk. There was a line through Chen's name.
There were still eleven names left. He looked over Sister Margaret's file, going over everything he knew about her daily life, her weaknesses, and the terrible things he thought would happen to her in the future.
The settlement burnings happened in month five. Seven camps for refugees were destroyed. Confirmed deaths: 843. Margaret stood in the firelight with that calm look on her face, saying it was God's work and purification.
But if he killed another member of the Council right away, it would be clear what was going on. Murphy would know that someone was after his close friends and family, so he would step up security, making it almost impossible for the remaining eliminations to happen.
Morgan had to wait by giving the deaths some space. Make them look like they don't go together. But waiting gave Margaret more time to become radicalized and for Murphy's ideas to sink in more deeply.
He wrote on a new page in his notebook, and the pen moved with perfect accuracy. "Two weeks."
"Long enough that it's not clear how they're connected."
"Short enough so that Margaret doesn't become more radical and so that I can still get things done."