Page 34 of For Rage

"What?" Morgan said. She hadn't expected this.

"Yes, Nelly Swanson," Tiffany said. "She was ... the first one."

Morgan remembered. That was when the police were still in charge of the case, and it had happened a couple weeks before the current timeline had escalated.

"She went here," Tiffany said. "She was in one of my classes with Professor Johnson. She's ... one of many girls who complained about him."

Morgan's heart raced. She hadn't expected this turn. But if Nelly was the first victim, maybe that was what had turned him onto his spree. Maybe he'd started chasing the high of that first victim, and that was what triggered him to keep killing red-haired women. It didn't explain the man, Steven, but still. George had acted very sketchy when Morgan had tried to talk to him earlier.

Tiffany's story could check out. But she needed to know more.

"Complained about what?" Morgan asked.

Tiffany hesitated, fidgeting with her binder. "Um, well, things started out small. He would make comments about our appearance or what we were wearing. Sometimes, he would ask us to stay after class, and then ... he would say things that made us uncomfortable."

Morgan's heart sank. It sounded like Professor Johnson had been sexually harassing his students.

"It got worse," Tiffany continued. "He started touching us. Nothing overtly sexual, but ... just enough to make us feel violated. Nelly was one of the worst affected. She told me she wanted to report him, but ... she was scared."

Morgan felt a wave of anger wash over her. How many other girls had gone through this? How many other girls had been too scared to speak up?

"Did Nelly ever confront him?" Morgan asked.

Tiffany shook her head. "No. She wanted to, but ... she was afraid of what he might do. She was ... she was scared he might hurt her. But she was going to come forward. Then she died, and this whole Maze Killer craziness started."

Morgan felt a swell of anger. This professor had been using his position of authority to take advantage of vulnerable young women. And now, he was a suspect in a string of murders.

"Do you have any proof of this?" Morgan asked.

Tiffany shook her head. "No ... But I heard them talk about it. I know it's true."

Morgan nodded, understanding. She took out her notepad and jotted down some notes.She believed Tiffany's story, without a doubt. But that didn't necessarily make George the killer.

"I was thinking, maybe he somehow overheard that she was gonna come forward," Tiffany went on. "And that's ..." She bit her lip. "That's why I became too scared to talk too. But when I saw you, I knew I had to say something. For Nelly. And all those other girls."

Morgan nodded. "You did the right thing," she said. "Thank you for coming forward. I'll look into it and see what I can find."

Tiffany nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Please. Stop him. Before anyone else gets hurt."

Morgan reached across the table and placed a hand on Tiffany's arm. "I will," she promised. "I'll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served."

As Tiffany left the café, Morgan sat back and closed her eyes, thinking. She had a new lead now, and it was the most promising one yet. She couldn't wait to get started on investigating Professor Johnson. But before she did, she needed to make a call.

She picked up her phone and dialed a number. "Hello?" a smooth voice answered.

"Greene," Morgan said, "I've got a lead. You need to hear this one."

***

Derik was on his way, but Morgan couldn't afford to wait. Johnson knew the FBI was here—he might already be running. When that occurred to her, she gathered her things as fast as she could and zipped out of the café into the sunny morning. She dashed across the street and to the university campus. If she were lucky, then Johnson would still be around here somewhere.

As she entered the building where Professor Johnson's office was, Morgan couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. She knew that time was of the essence, and that every minute counted. She had to find Johnson before he slipped away.

As she walked down the hallway, she noticed that the door to Johnson's office was slightly ajar. Morgan's heart quickened as she pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds.There was no sign of Johnson anywhere. The urge to rifle through his desk was strong, but she needed to catch him physically first. She left his office, navigating her way through the university. In some ways, it felt like a maze too.

She stopped students as she hurried past them, asking, "Have you seen Professor Johnson? Professor George Johnson—is he still here?"

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