Page 26 of For Rage

It turned out that his name is Steven Jolie, and he seemed like an innocuous person on paper. No criminal record, no history of severe trauma or mental health. By all accounts, he seemed like a normal person, so why did he break into the maze, and why was it worth shooting a federal agent over?

Part of him wished Morgan were here to talk this guy into speaking, but at the same time, Derik needed a break from her. Morgan was being headstrong and reckless on this case. And when she'd kissed him, he wasn't sure how to feel about it. His body had reacted at first, and he'd kissed her back, but this was Morgan Cross they were talking about. He felt like she was maybe using him, as he'd never noticed her attracted to him when they were partners ten years ago. Maybe she was just drunk and looking for someone, and Derik filled that void.

He shook his mind away from it, focusing on the case.

"Come on, Steven," he said, "I need you to talk, man. I'm sure your life's worth more than whatever this is."

"I told you," Steven stammered, "I just followed instructions. That's all."

"Instructions from who?" Derik said, not buying this at all. Steven was all shaky and paranoid, maybe even on drugs.

"It ... it was a man," he said. "I didn't know him, I swear. But he threatened me. He said I had to wait in the maze, and that you'd come for me. He said I had to shoot and run."

Derik leaned back in his chair. This was all sounding ridiculous.

"A man, huh?" Derik said skeptically. "Can you describe him?"

"He was tall, had a beard, and wore a black hoodie," Steven said, still shaking.

Derik wrote down the description, but he doubted it would lead anywhere. It was too vague.

"And what did this man look like? Did he show you anything that could identify him? A tattoo? Something more specific?" Derik asked.

Steven shook his head. "No, he was just ... there. And then he was gone. It was dark. I couldn't really see him all that well."

Derik sighed, feeling like he was hitting a dead end.This man Steven spoke of probably didn't even exist. The way Steven had described the man, it sounded too generic, too much like a made-up story. But why would he do that? What did he have to gain?

"Look, Steven," Derik said, "you're already under arrest for shooting a federal agent. This is the end of the road for you, so let's just talk candidly, okay?"

Steven blinked, still shaking. His face had gotten paler since they brought him in, backdropped by the lights in the interrogation room. "I-I swear. I don't know anything. Please." He shuddered. "Oh, man, I don't feel so good."

And then, without warning, Steven suddenly collapsed to the floor. He lay there, twitching and convulsing as Derik ran to his side in alarm. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and Derik could feel a fever radiating from him. Panic flooded Derik's chest.

"Help!" he shouted, and two guards ran into the room. Everything sped by Derik in slow-motion. The guards called in emergency paramedics. Soon, the room buzzed with activity as paramedics worked hurriedly to revive him while Derik looked on helplessly. Everything felt like a blur as he watched them perform CPR, desperately trying to get Steven's heart beating again.

But it was no use.

Steven Jolie was dead.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"What do you mean he's dead?" Morgan asked, storming through headquarters after Derik. Her leg throbbed from the stitches she'd just been given, but they'd patched her up good and sent her on her way. Or, she forced her way out, more like. As soon as the last stich was on, Morgan had gone on her way, buying a new pair of pants from the hospital gift shop on the way out. The denim fabric of the jeans, probably made for someone twenty years younger than her, irritated her wound, but she didn't care.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Derik had a perturbed look on his face as he looked back at her and said, "He's dead, Morgan. What else do you want me to say?"

She stopped in the hallway, hands on her hips. Derik breathed out through his nose as he faced her.

"I leave for an hour, and a suspect dies in custody," Morgan said. "How did this happen?"

"We don't know." Derik turned into the briefing room, and Morgan followed after, letting the door close behind her. "We're waiting on toxicology and an autopsy. Maybe he had a heart attack."

Morgan bit her lip, thinking. Or maybe it was something else. They were dealing with poison in this case, after all.

"Did he say anything?" Morgan asked. "Do you think he was the Maze Killer?"

"I don't know," Derik said. "He said that he met with a man who coerced him into meeting us in the maze and shooting. It sounds like we were his targets." Derik's eyes flashed to Morgan. "Maybe you were his target."

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