Page 31 of For Fear

Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, Derik following close behind.

As the door closed behind them, Morgan leaned against the wall, her eyes closing briefly. "What now?" she asked, her voice tight with frustration. "We're back to square one."

As they walked out of the FBI building, the crisp autumn air hit Morgan's face, a stark contrast to the stuffy interrogation room. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. The tattoos on her arms seemed to itch, a constant reminder of the years she'd lost, the injustice she'd suffered.

"I just don't get it," she said, frustration seeping into her voice. "If Trevino isn't our guy, then who is? And what's the connection to his pawn shop?"

Derik shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

Morgan wished she could share his confidence. But after so many dead ends, so many false leads, it was getting harder and harder to keep the faith.

“I say we go back to Evan Rhodes’s apartment,” Morgan said. “Maybe there’s something we missed there.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The faint glow from a single lamp illuminated the dusty surfaces of Evan Rhodes's apartment as Morgan and Derik stepped inside. Morgan wrinkled her nose, the musty stench of neglect assaulting her senses. Takeout containers littered the floor, their contents long since rotted away. Old electronic parts were strewn across Evan's desk, a chaotic mess that spoke of a brilliant mind unraveled.

They moved methodically through the apartment, gloved hands sifting through the detritus of Evan's shattered life. Morgan felt a twinge of empathy for the man, knowing all too well how easy it was for one's world to crumble. Her own scars, hidden beneath tattoo-covered skin, were a constant reminder of the years she'd lost, the injustice she'd endured.

But now wasn't the time for sentiment. They had a killer to catch.

As Derik rummaged through a pile of old magazines, Morgan turned her attention to the coffee table, stacked high with papers. Bills, notebooks, discarded mail - the mundane remnants of a life cut short. She rifled through them, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place.

And then she saw it. Tucked beneath a stack of unopened letters, a glossy corner peeked out. Frowning, Morgan tugged it free, revealing a small brochure. The title caught her eye immediately: Maddox Talent Program: Excellence for the Gifted.

"Derik, take a look at this."

He glanced over, his brow furrowing as he read the title. "Maddox Talent Program? Never heard of it."

Morgan flipped through the pages, skimming the flowery language about nurturing gifted youth. Something about it made her skin crawl, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

"If Evan had this..." She trailed off, her mind racing. "We need to find out more about this program. See if there's any connection to our other victims."

Morgan's mind raced as she considered the implications of the Maddox Talent Program brochure. She'd heard whispers about Dahlia Maddox over the years, rumors that painted a picture of a woman who was as brilliant as she was ruthless.

"I remember reading about Maddox a while back," Morgan said, her brow furrowed in concentration. "She had a reputation for pushing these kid prodigies to their breaking point. Some of them ended up burning out completely."

Derik raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a real piece of work."

"You have no idea." Morgan shook her head, memories of the articles she'd read flooding back. "There were stories about kids having mental breakdowns, developing substance abuse problems. All because of the pressure Maddox put on them."

She stared down at the glossy brochure, a sense of unease growing in the pit of her stomach. If Evan had been involved with Maddox's program, it could explain a lot about his downward spiral.

But there was something else nagging at her, a thought that she almost didn't want to give voice to. She glanced up at Derik, seeing the same flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"What if..." She hesitated, the words feeling heavy on her tongue. "What if Maddox is somehow connected to these murders?"

Derik's eyes widened. "You think a woman could be behind this?"

Morgan shrugged, turning the brochure over in her hands. "I didn't think so at first. But now, seeing this..." She tapped the glossy paper. "It's a long shot, but we can't rule it out."

She thought back to the crime scenes, the meticulous staging of the bodies, the taunting clues left behind. It had all seemed so calculated, so precise. The work of a man, she'd assumed.

But what if she'd been wrong?

What if Dahlia Maddox, with her reputation for pushing prodigies to their limits, had something to do with all of this?

It was a stretch, Morgan knew. But her instincts were screaming at her that they needed to dig deeper.

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