Page 21 of For Fear

"Three victims, three prodigies, three addicts," she muttered, more to herself than to Derik. "But no goddamn connection."

Derik looked up from the file he was poring over, his green eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. "Maybe we're looking at this all wrong," he said, running a hand through his usually slicked-back hair. "What if the connection isn't between them, but with the killer?"

Morgan leaned back in her chair, her tattooed arms crossed over her chest. The idea had merit, but it made her skin crawl. "An outsider," she said slowly, the pieces starting to click into place. "Someone watching from afar, obsessed with their potential and their fall."

"Exactly," Derik nodded, a spark of excitement in his tired eyes. "A stalker who chose them for what they represent, not who they were."

Morgan stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the room. Her mind raced, connecting dots that had eluded them for days. "It's sick," she spat out. "This bastard's playing judge, jury, and executioner for people he's never even met."

Morgan's tattooed fingers drummed against the desk, her dark eyes narrowing as she stared at the crime scene photos. The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning and the rustling of papers.

"What if," she said, her voice low and gravelly from lack of sleep, "we're looking at this all wrong?" She turned to Derik,who was nursing his third cup of coffee. "What if the killer isn't just some random psycho, but someone who sees themselves in these victims?"

Derik raised an eyebrow, focusing on her. "Go on."

Morgan stood, pacing the length of the room. "Think about it. All these victims were prodigies, right? But they all fell from grace. What if our killer was once like them? A brilliant mind that got lost in addiction?"

She stopped at the board, tapping Lila's photo. "Maybe they see these victims as reflections of themselves. And now they're lashing out, punishing those who couldn't overcome their demons."

Derik nodded slowly, his tired face lighting up with understanding. "It fits. The symbolic calling cards, the meticulous selection of victims. It's like the killer is saying, 'Look what you could have been.'"

"Exactly," Morgan said, a grim smile on her face. "It's twisted, but it makes sense. The killer feels like they're part of this... this club of fallen geniuses. And now they're playing judge, jury, and executioner."

Derik stood up, joining her at the board. "So we're looking for someone who was once at the top of their field, but fell hard. Someone who managed to claw their way back, but is still haunted by their past."

Morgan nodded, her mind racing. "Someone who resents those who couldn't do the same. It's a warped sense of justice, punishing those who, in the killer's eyes, didn't fight hard enough."

As she spoke, Morgan couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. The idea of someone passing judgment, deciding who deserved to live or die, hit too close to home. She thought of her own wrongful conviction, of the years stolen from her by someone who decided she was guilty.

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she stared at the case board, the victims' faces staring back at her. "Dr. Reid," she muttered, tapping her finger against Lila and Simon's photos. "He's the common denominator we can't ignore."

Derik leaned in, his brow furrowed. "But his alibi checked out. He couldn't have been directly involved."

"Maybe not directly," Morgan replied, her mind racing. "But what if the killer is connected to him somehow? Another patient, perhaps?"

She turned to Derik, her dark eyes glinting with determination. "We need to go back to Reid's office. Find out if Evan Rhodes was ever a patient there too."

***

The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange as they pulled up outside Dr. Reid's office. Morgan killed the engine, her fingers drumming restlessly on the steering wheel.

"If Rhodes was a patient," she mused, "it could explain how the killer chose his victims. Reid might be unknowingly holding the key to this whole mess."

Derik nodded, his green eyes scanning the quiet street. "And if he wasn't?"

Morgan's lips tightened. "Then we're dealing with someone even more meticulous. Someone who's been studying these prodigies from afar, tracking their falls from grace."

They stepped out of the car, the cool morning air nipping at their skin. Morgan crossed her arms, her tattoos peeking out from beneath her sleeves. She felt exposed, standing there in the open, waiting for answers that might not come.

"You know," Derik said softly, breaking the silence, "this case... it's hitting close to home for you, isn't it?"

Morgan tensed, her guard immediately going up. "What do you mean?"

Derik's gaze was gentle, understanding. "Prodigies who lost their way, people passing judgment... it's not exactly unfamiliar territory for you."

She let out a long breath, forcing herself to relax. "Yeah, well, let's just focus on catching this bastard before he decides who else doesn't deserve a second chance."

As they stood outside and waited for Dr. Reid to arrive, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that they were on the verge of something big. Whether it would lead them to the killer or just more questions, she couldn't say. But one thing was certain – the clock was ticking, and somewhere out there, another fallen star might be in the crosshairs.

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