Page 39 of For Rage

"I'll tell you if you let me go."

Morgan laughed. A real, belly laugh. He couldn't be serious. "You're joking, right?" she said. "You could just pin it on any person to get yourself out of this chair, then run off again like a coward. You're not going anywhere."

"Then I guess you don't want to know who it was," he said, his voice taunting.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. She didn't know what kind of game he was playing here. She also had to admit that if there was even a small chance that he was telling the truth, then maybe it was worth looking into. Still, she didn't want to play into his demands. What if he truly was the Maze Killer?

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Derik poked his head in. Morgan took the hint and left Johnson, who said, "Think about it, Special Agent!" in a taunting way as she slipped out of the room.

She met Derik in the hallway. "I hope this is important," she said.

"It is. We have a problem."

Morgan's chest sank. She prayed it wasn't another victim or another note.

But Derik said, "Johnson has an alibi for the time Grace Alba was killed, when we were in the maze. He was in a lecture. Witnesses and cameras confirmed it."

Morgan's mind raced. If that were the case, then maybe Johnson was telling the truth. Then again: "We already know he can threaten people to do work for him," she said. "Remember Steven Jolie?” Plus, why would Johnson have run if he were innocent? Maybe he had just been concerned that he’d been caught for creeping on the women in general, but Morgan had a hard time buying this guy’s innocence.

"Of course," Derik muttered.

"But ..." Morgan trailed off. Grace Alba's death had seemed fresh, not to mention that the killer likely had to move very quickly to evade them and bury her at the same time. She’d profiled the killer as an able-bodied man. Johnson was in his late fifties and overweight. Clumsy. He'd only been able to escape Morgan because he'd gotten in his car first.

"I don't like it, either," Derik said. "But he might not be our guy."

"I still think we need to keep an eye on him," Morgan said. She formulated a new plan. This could work to her benefit. "Okay," she said, "Johnson was trying to tell me he can give me a name to look into if I let him go. Obviously, I was not going to do that, but if we think he might not be our guy anyway, we can make it seem like we're cutting him a deal."

Derik raised an eyebrow. "What kind of deal?"

Morgan smirked. "We'll tell him we'll consider letting him go if he gives us the name of the person he thinks might have something to do with the Bleeding Woodbine in the victims' systems. We'll make him think he's getting something out of it,but when he's out, we'll keep our eyes on him. Just in case."

Derik nodded, understanding the plan. "It's risky, but it might work," he said.

"It's worth a shot. Give me a couple minutes with him."

Morgan went back into the interrogation room, where Johnson sat with a smug look on his face.

"Changed your mind, I see," he said.

Morgan didn't bother with pleasantries. "We're willing to make a deal," she said, pressing her hands on the table and looking down on him. "You give us the name of the person you think might have something to do with the Bleeding Woodbine, and we'll consider letting you go."

Johnson leaned forward, his eyes lighting up with a greedy look. "You're serious?" he said.

Morgan nodded. "Deadly serious."

Johnson's face cracked into a wide smile. "Well then, you have yourself a deal. Have a seat, Special Agent Cross."

Morgan didn't want to listen to a word he said, but she settled into the chair across from him.

"One person does come to mind," he said. "A former student of mine. A strange guy. His name was Jerry Jameson. He always had a fascination with poisons, especially Bleeding Woodbine. I caught him experimenting with it in the lab one day, and I reported him to the Dean. I thought that was the end of it, but maybe he's still up to his old tricks."

Morgan's heart raced. This was it. They finally had a lead. "Do you have any idea where he might be now?" she asked.

Johnson shrugged. "Last I heard, he dropped out of college and disappeared. But if he's still playing with poisons, I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later."

Morgan jotted down Jerry Jameson's name on a notepad, a plan already forming in her mind. "Thank you for your cooperation," she said, standing up. "We'll take it from here."

Johnson raised an eyebrow. "So, that's it? You're letting me go?"

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