Page 46 of For Rage

Morgan felt a rush of relief. If Johnson was the killer, then they had caught him before he could get away. "Good work, Derik.I'm coming right now."

***

Once again, Morgan found herself face-to-face with George Johnson, alone in an interrogation room. This time, he was sweatier, more agitated than the first time. And this time, she wouldn't be so willing to let him off the hook.

"Where were you going, George?" Morgan asked. "Convenient time for a vacation, don't you think?"

He glowered at her. "This is nonsense. You let me go in exchange for my information, so I'm free to go wherever I please."

"Except your information is bullshit," Morgan fired back. "Jerry Jameson claimed he was never experimenting with the Bleeding Woodbine or any poisonous plants."

"Of course, he's gonna deny it," George said.

The problem was that Morgan believed Jerry more than she believed George. It was just her gut feelings talking, but still. George was the dirty one, and Jerry had been far more cooperative. That didn't mean he was innocent, of course, but Morgan wasn't done with George.

"Are you sure about that?" Morgan asked, leaning forward. "Because I have reason to believe that someone else may have been logging in to his company website from public spaces."

George's eyes widened for a moment before he quickly regained his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, studying George. "I think you do," she said. "I think you've been trying to frame Jerry this whole time."

George's expression was unreadable. "And why would I do that?"

"So, you can keep getting away with your twisted game."

George laughed. "You're wasting time with me, Special Agent Cross. Jerry is the man you want. I'm telling you, he experimented with the Bleeding Woodbine in my class. Him and that stupid friend of his."

"What friend?" Morgan asked, frowning.

Suddenly, George's eyebrows pinched together, and his eyes darted around, as if he were remembering something. "I guess I didn't mention that," he said. "Jerry had a friend in class. Another troublemaker. Randall-something-or-other. Fink, I think his last name was. I can't remember."

Morgan frowned. Randall. Jerry mentioned that he had a friend on his payroll. A friend who would know him well, who might be able to figure out his password to log in to his site, maybe to get personal information on clients. Jerry had said his "buddy" was on vacation. But maybe Randall never went on vacation at all.

Morgan needed to know more. George was no reliable source of information, that was for sure. She needed to hear it from Jerry.

Morgan left the interrogation room, her mind racing with possibilities. She needed to talk to Jerry again, confront him with this new information. She found Jerry in the same room she had left him in, sitting quietly in his chair, lost in thought.

"Jerry, I need to ask you about your friend, Randall Fink," Morgan said as she walked in.

Jerry looked up, surprised. "Randall? What about him?"

"Is he the one who works with you?"

"Yes ..." Jerry blinked, confused.

"Did he experiment with the Bleeding Woodbine when you were in school together?" she asked, her heart in her throat. "Is that why the professor thought you did too?"

"I can't remember," Jerry admitted. "I was drunk and high for most of university, I really didn't get far."

"You mentioned that he was on vacation, but I have reason to believe that he's been logging in to your company website from public spaces," Morgan said. "Maybe to get information on your clients, the ones you didn't share with him."

Jerry's face contorted with anger. "No way. Randall would never do something like that. He's my friend, my business partner. He's been with me since the beginning."

"But do you trust him?" Morgan asked, keeping her voice level.

Jerry hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I mean, yeah, of course I trust him. He's my friend. Besides, he's in Hawaii."

"How sure are you that he's on vacation?" Morgan asked. "Did he send you any photos?"

---