Page 38 of For Rage

"I don't need proof," Morgan said, her eyes flashing with anger. "I know it's you. And I'm going to make you pay for what you've done."

Johnson laughed, a hollow sound that made Morgan's skin crawl. "You can't make me do anything. I'm a respected member of this community. The police won't believe you."

Morgan smiled, a cold, calculating look. "I don't need the police—I'm the damn FBI. I have other means of making you talk."

Johnson scoffed. "You really think you scare me, Special Agent Cross?"

Morgan leaned even closer, her voice low and menacing. "You should be scared, Johnson.I know how it feels to be locked up behind bars, and it's cold, unforgiving, and lonely. There's no happiness there. And you'll be locked up forever."

His eyes flashed. "I didn't do it."

"You know a lot about the Bleeding Woodbine," Morgan went on. "You've studied it extensively."

"And what of it?"

"Every victim so far has had it in their system. One of those victims happens to be a student who you harassed."

"Harassed?" Johnson's face flushed, taken aback. "I never 'harassed' Nelly. What, a man gives a woman a compliment, and it is 'harassment' now? It wasn't like she was a child; she was in her thirties."

Morgan shook her head in disgust. "Complimenting someone is one thing, Johnson. But touching them, making them feel uncomfortable, that's not okay. It's harassment."

"I never touched her," he said, his eyes narrowing.

Morgan leaned forward, a fierce glint in her eyes. "Don't lie to me. I know you did. You made her feel small, scared, and vulnerable. And now, she's dead because of you."

"I didn't kill her!" Johnson shouted, slamming his hands down on the table.

Morgan leaned back, trying to calm the situation down. "Then who did? Who is the Maze Killer?"

Johnson's eyes darted around the room like he was trying to come up with a lie. "I don't know."

Morgan slammed her hand down on the table. "Don't play games with me! You just so happen to know all about this deadly plant, and one of your students dies because of it? And if you're so innocent, why did you run from me earlier?"

Johnson looked around the room, nostrils flared. Maybe it was settling in that he was screwed no matter what. "Look, I did hear rumors about what the female students were saying about me," he said. "When I heard about it, I backed off. I never meant to make them get their panties in a twist."

Morgan bit her tongue. Part of her wanted to punch this sexist asshole in his face, but she kept it together.

"It was never my attention, okay?" he said. "I thought they liked the attention. Some of them did. They'd even come to me, ask me for better grades. Sorry if I started to feel a bit powerful because of it."

Morgan's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched tight. Johnson's words only confirmed what she already knew: he was a predator, using his power to manipulate and control those around him. "You're sick," she said, her voice cold. "And it's time for you to pay for what you've done."

"What have I done?" Johnson spat. "I haven't killed anyone! I'm not the Maze Killer!"

Morgan leaned back in her chair, studying Johnson carefully. If he was telling the truth, then who was the real killer? She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't adding up.

"And what about the Bleeding Woodbine?" Morgan asked, her voice low and steady. "How did it get into the victims' systems?"

Johnson hesitated almost like he was trying to come up with a lie. "I don't know," he said finally. "I swear."

Morgan leaned forward, her eyes locked on his. "You're lying," she said. "I can see it in your eyes."

Johnson shifted in his seat, unease evident on his face. "I swear, I don't know how it got there," he said. "I may have studied it, but I never used it on anyone. But ..."

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"I might ... I might know someone who did have a particular interest in it."

"Who?"

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