Malcolm found the morgue empty when he entered it. He had no idea where Edrisa and the rest of her staff could be. It being empty was a good thing, though. The fewer people he encountered, the better.

It meant less explaining he'd need to do if he found himself discovered by the wrong person.

It also lessens the chances of me getting caught by Gil.

That, most of all, was what he wanted to avoid. If it was just him who'd get in trouble would be one thing. It wasn't, though. It was Gil, Dani, JT, Edrisa, Sorcha, Leonard, and his mother who'd be in the most trouble if he was caught having slipped his ankle monitor.

What choice did he have, though?

The only person who could explain the DNA evidence found on Eddie was Edrisa. Granted, he could have called her and asked her what he needed to know. He could even have invited her to come to his mother's so they could talk face-to-face. There was no doubt in his mind that Edrisa would have been agreeable to either offer.

It just felt... wrong.

As if he was abusing her friendship to serve his own agenda.

Talking to her in the morgue made it seem more professional. Courteous. A callback to when they were two colleagues discussing the evidence of a case.

We still are discussing the facts of this case, he reasoned as he slowly made his way over to the table where Eddie's body lay. I'm just was the primary suspect.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the man responsible for Eve's death. Nothing about his body explained how hisblood got on Eddie. The majority of his physical injuries could be linked back to his attempt on his father's life.

Another order issued by Nicholas Endicott.

Only, this one didn't turn out the way he intended.

Malcolm's hand spasmed as images from the fight between his father and Eddie surfaced.

The garrote around his father's throat.

His father struggling before slowly going limp.

The fear and desperation that shot through him that compelled him to cry out, "Dad, no!" like some ten-year-old child.

A switch flipped on inside Martin Whitly at that moment.

He went from prey to predator after Malcolm addressed him as Dad instead of Dr. Whitly. He overpowered a shocked Eddie, pinning him to the floor before sinking his thumbs into the man's eye-sockets.

No thought, no hesitation.

The feral gleam in his father's eyes while he gouged the hitman's eyes out imprinted itself on his mind.

Another in a long line of traumas.

One more nightmare for him to have on repeat as he tried to sleep.

A movie theater that played a never ending horror movie. That's what he saw his mind as.

A movie theater that never closed.

That never stopped playing the same movies over and over.

A theater that had a new movie goer joining him for the show.

Malcolm lifted his head as Eve drifted close to him.

She was one more sin he had to atone for. Another in a long line of bodies who'd follow him into the afterlife. Who haunted him awake and asleep. At least he could bury her. Give her a marker to remind the world she had once been a living, breathing, vibrant human being.

There were twenty-three other bodies they couldn't bury because nobody knew where they were or what their names might be.

Nobody but his father, anyway.

And John Watkins, he added as Eve slid her hand over his, the coldness of her flesh chilling him to the bone.

Watkins also knew where those bodies were buried.

What those names were.

Not that he'd tell him or anyone else about where they were.

Or who they were.

"He deserved to die for what he did." Her fingers trailed over his arm. Left a trail of ice that curled its way to his heart. "To me. To us."

"There was no us." Malcolm stepped away from her. Knowing he couldn't get far. Knowing she wouldn't let him get far. Not until he repaid his debt to her. "You saw to that when you broke up with me via voicemail."

"I was going to come back." Her eyes were soft, pleading. "Didn't you realize that I always planned to come back?"

"You mean you would have come back when you needed help with protecting your sister."

"Malcolm…"

"No." Bitterness melted the ice around his heart. Stirred the miasma burning in the pit of his belly. Quaked in the fingers he curled into fists. "You used me. Took advantage of me. Said you had real feelings for me but walked out the moment you had what you needed from me."

"I had to find my sister."

"I would have helped you find her."

"It wasn't for you to do."

"I had as much a need to find her as you did."

"I was trying to save you from more pain."

Another lie to go with the dozens of others she fed him the last few weeks.

Lies he allowed her to tell him because he was hopelessly pathetic.

Craving the forbidden.

Wanting the flash and burn.

Needing the pain like an alcoholic needs one more drink.

Eve trapped him in her spindly web by convincing him she had real feelings for him.

That she accepted him for who and what he was.

All lies.

He had been foolish and shortsighted.

Believing he could have a normal life.

I had a normal life, he realized as Eve placed a cold hand on his shoulder. I had someone who did accept me for me. Who hasn't ever lied to me. And I tossed it away. Tossed her away.

For what?

Nothing.

Malcolm blew out a breath. Blame, excuses, reasons, none of it changed what happened to Eve. None of it changed how it was Nicholas Endicott who had this done to her. It was best to bury it all and go on as he always did.

Work the case.

Catch the bad guy.

Rinse and repeat.

"Oh, Mr. Bright!" Surprise tinged Edrisa's voice. "I didn't realize you were here."

Malcolm turned and smiled at the medical examiner.

"Hello, Edrisa."

Curiosity replaced her shock at finding him there.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk with you about the blood you found on Eddie."

"Oh!" Her eyes popped wide behind the rims of her glasses. "Well, you know that..."

"I'm asking you to reveal information to the prime suspect in this case?" Malcolm nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry I'm putting you in this position. I wouldn't if there was any other way. I have to prove that the blood is not mine."

"Oh, uhm." Edrisa pushed her glasses higher up on her nose. "That is going to be difficult to prove, I'm afraid. The lab results say it is your blood." She made a face. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Malcolm gave her a gentle smile. "You can only follow the evidence."

"I know you didn't do this."

So did Malcolm. Knowing and proving it was too different things, though.

"Do you think it possible that the blood was faked?"

"Faked?" Edrisa cocked her head to the side, considering. "As in someone took a DNA sample and created a blood profile with it?"

"Yes."

"It's... possible." Her brow creased. "But how would they have had the time to plant the sample on Eddie?"

"That's the question I still need to answer."

Edrisa opened her mouth to say something but voices outside stopped her.

"See?" Malcolm flinched as he recognized Sorcha's droll tone. "I told you Malcolm isn't here."

"His skinny ass could be hiding."

"Malcolm doesn't like small, dark spaces so the mortuary cabinets are out."

Malcolm swallowed a curse and glanced around for a place to hide.

"Over there!" Edrisa pointed. "You can hide in the space between the two cabinets."

Malcolm darted over to where she indicated a second before JT entered the morgue. Dani followed a step behind, her brow creased, and mouth thinned into a hard line.

"She's lying about Bright."

JT heaved a soft grunt. "You see Bright's crazy ass anywhere?"

"Doesn't mean he's not." The distrust in Dani's voice, on her face, hurt. Not that he could fault her for how she felt. The evidence against him was overwhelming. "Bright's too emotional right now. Too unpredictable."

"Yeah, he is," JT agreed with a nod. "And being that way is what makes Bright good at his job."

"It's also what makes him good for this."

JT half-turned towards her as Edrisa made a small, distressed sound. "It's also what this Endicott is counting on everyone thinking. He wants us doubting Bright."

"I know." Dani sighed. "And I hate thinking he did this. It's what the evidence says. And we have to follow the evidence."

Gil entered the morgue then.

Seeing him hurt.

One bright ball of pain in the middle of his chest.

The last time Malcolm had seen Gil had been when SWAT busted into his loft so they could arrest him. He'd never forget the look of disappointment on his face or the way his voice throbbed as he told him he was under arrest.

Sorcha says he believes me. That he knows I didn't kill Eddie. That this is all an act to make sure he and the others don't get kicked off the case.

Malcolm wanted to believe her.

Wanted to think this was all an act designed to fool the man orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.

He just... couldn't.

It'd destroy him if he allowed himself to believe and it turned out he was wrong.

Like always.

"You send Bright-Lite home?"

"Yes." Gil heaved a weary sigh. "For all the good it'll do." JT snorted a laugh as Gil looked at Edrisa. "What've you got for us, Edrisa?"

"The bruising on Eddie's neck indicates he was held down. Perhaps with the assailant's forearm. That's not the cause of death, though." She clutched the file she held tighter to her chest. "Trace cotton fibers confirm he was smothered with a hospital pillow. Which, I mean, right there

you know it wasn't Bright because where's the pizzazz in a pillow?"

A small smile curved Malcolm's lips at Edrisa's defense. She was the one person, outside of Sorcha, he could be sure believed in his innocence.

"Suffocation required our killer to get close," Dani murmured, her brow creased. "This was intimate. Personal, even." She looked at Gil and then JT. "This fits with Bright. Our vic was tied to the murder of his girlfriend and an attempt on his father's life."

Every word stuck the knives in his heart deeper. He couldn't deny her profile was spot-on. If he was the one making it up, he'd have said the exact same thing.

"Finding Bright's DNA on Eddie doesn't help our boy either."

Malcolm wanted to leap out and tell them it wasn't his blood on Eddie. That it had been planted on him. Not that he needed to worry. Edrisa again had his back.

"You're wrong." She let out a small, pained sound. "I mean, you're right, but you're also wrong. You're so... so wrong."

"I hope that we are, too," Dani said. "But... if Bright was here, he would lay out the same profile."

Which was exactly what Endicott was counting on.

He wanted the profile to point to him.

Finger him as the one and only suspect.

Discredit him.

Ruin him.

What Endicott planned after he destroyed him remained a mystery.

One more puzzle he needed to solve before he could move on with his life.

"Everybody, take a breath," Gil said. "Focus on the job." Words he told Malcolm a thousand times. Words he did his best to live by. "Thanks, Edrisa. We'll circle back."

They left the morgue then, leaving Malcolm with his wildly chaotic thoughts, the ghost of the woman at the heart of the mess he was in, and desperately wishing Sorcha was there to help ground him.

"What did you hear?"

"Enough."

"And to think, I was just about to start a meaningful female friendship with Dani."

Edrisa let out a small sigh. "Maybe."

"Her profile's correct."

Much as he hated to admit it. Edrisa shot him an incredulous look.

"Don't tell me you think you did this?"

"No." Malcolm shook his head. "I've been framed. What I can't figure out is the DNA." His brow furrowed as he studied Eddie's body. "How did they get my skin and blood under Eddie's nails?"

"Maybe the killer planted it on him after the murder."

Malcolm supposed that was possible.

"Planting DNA isn't like planting a gun," he said softly, thoughtfully. "It would take time. The kind you don't have in a busy hospital." He looked over at her. "When did you swab his nails?"

"Back here at the lab."

"I take it you trust your team?"

"I do," Edrisa affirmed with a nod. "With my life." A small smile curved her lips. "They're also super fun at karaoke."

"So," Malcolm murmured thoughtfully. "That just leaves Corbell Laboratories."

Edrisa nodded.

"They processed the results."

An outside lab, he realized. A place where we have no control.

"What do we know about them?"

"Well, we do most of our work through them. They've worked the city since the '90s." A frown puckered her brow. "There's no way a single employee could swap out the results."

"I'm not worried about an employee." The niggle of suspicion curling through Malcolm grew in intensity. "I want to know who owns it."

Because he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"All I can find is a number for their outside counsel."

"That's it." Excitement streaked through Malcolm as the pieces finally connected together. He turned to leave. "I have to go."

Edrisa stopped him by crying out, "Bright!"

Malcolm had less than three seconds to prepare himself before she launched herself at him, latching onto him like an octopus. He stood frozen, unsure what to do or how to respond. The only logical thing he could think of was exactly what he did. He cupped the back of Edrisa's head with one hand and folded his other arm around her.

"Sorry," she whispered against his shoulder. "Don't die."

"I won't." He leaned back to give her a reassuring smile. "I promise."

He left then to find Sorcha.

Because they had another stop to make.

This time to see the man his mother called, "The Devil."

A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!