Page 9 of For Rage

"A horticulturist, maybe," Morgan agreed. There could be a lot of different motives for someone to commit such heinous crimes, but the choice of poison seemed like it could tell them everything, if they knew where to look.

She looked at the photo of Grace's autopsy, spread out on the table before her. She slid it closer to her to get a better look at the bruises. She didn't want to draw any conclusions, but if Grace Alba's husband was abusive toward her, then he might fit the bill; a bitter, deranged husband, looking to enact revenge on his wife, playing out fantasies until he took the real deal. Morgan had seen a lot of domestic abuse cases in her day, and those bruises on Grace looked a lot like marks from an angry husband.

"What do you think about the husband?" Morgan asked Derik.

"I don't know, Morgan. It's still too early to point fingers," Derik replied. "We need more evidence before we can make any accusations."

Morgan nodded, but the nagging feeling in her gut wouldn't go away. She knew they had to tread carefully, but they couldn't ignore the possibility that Grace's husband could be the killer.

Morgan grabbed her laptop and went into the FBI database, looking into Jim Alba. Real name: James Timothy Alba, age thirty-eight. No criminal record. Worked for a construction company and made a good salary doing it. He'd married Grace ten years ago. Grace, on the other hand, worked as a school teacher. They had one child, eight years old.

That was another thing the victims all had in common. They had children.

Morgan focused on Jim's file. His bank statements could help build a picture of what he'd been up to the past few days, maybe show if he'd been anywhere near where the killings happened. They had the amusement park killing, then, more recently, the governor's estate.

Morgan looked through Jim's bank statements. Jim had made a large withdrawal from his account a few days before Grace's murder. The amount was in the thousands, and it seemed unusual for someone like Jim, who didn't have a history of making large withdrawals.

She kept scrolling. On the day Mia had been killed at the amusement park, Jim had apparently gone to a motel. Assuming he was alone, and Grace wasn't with him, then he might not have an alibi for that night at all.

Morgan continued on, but one transaction from the following day made her pause.

A charge at a gas station near the amusement park, the day after Mia was found.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that Jim Alba might actually be the Maze Killer.

She looked over at Derik, who was going over the autopsy reports. "Derik," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "I think we need to bring Jim Alba in for questioning."

Derik looked up at her, his expression wary. "Why? What do you have?"

Morgan hesitated for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. "I found some charges on his bank statements near the locations of the other victims. And ... I have a feeling about him. I think he might be the killer."

Derik leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully. "You always did have top-notch intuition."

"Let's bring him in for questioning," Morgan said, standing up. "I want to know everything about their relationship, their history."

"You really think it could be him?" Derik asked, standing up. "Why would he kill three separate women before his own wife?"

"Some sort of murder fantasy until he took the real thing, obviously," Morgan said. "Just because a killer starts with non-related victims, doesn't mean they won't eventually target someone close to them. Maybe he was working up to it, or maybe Grace discovered something about him, and he had to silence her. But there must be a reason why he chose these women. They all have red hair, they're all around the same age, and they all have children. It's possible that he has some sort of grudge against women with these characteristics. Such as his wife."

Derik nodded. "Alright, let's bring him in. But we need to be careful. We don't want to spook him before we have enough evidence to make an arrest."

Morgan nodded in agreement. They had to be careful not to let Jim Alba slip through their fingers. She grabbed her coat and headed out the door, with Derik following close behind.

***

Morgan let Derik drive on the way to Grace Alba's house. As he cut through the dreary afternoon, Morgan sat in the passenger seat, listening to the windshield wipers swipe across the windshield. Her mind wandered, going over the details of the case, then lingering back into her time in prison, always hanging over her like a cloud.

Then, there was Derik. Working together again felt strange but right. Morgan had to admit that she still admired Derik Greene. He was always good-looking back in the day, but he'd aged well, with delicate crow's feet on his pale face around his blue eyes. She wasn't sure why she was noticing it now, but he looked good. Part of her had always wondered if the two of them would ever end up getting together, even as a fling, but it had never happened.

Then Morgan went to jail.

She sighed, pushing it aside, reminding herself it wasn't appropriate.

As they pulled up to the house, Morgan took a deep breath and steeled herself for the conversation ahead. It was a modest, ranch style house with white siding and a red, shingled roof. The front lawn was impeccably manicured, with a garden full of vibrant red roses and pale pink tulips. A white picket fence encompassed the back yard, and a pair of rocking chairs sat on the porch. Morgan could see the body she'd seen earlier—Grace—alive here, happy here. Then she saw the bruises on Grace's arms during the autopsy, and she wondered if life wasn’t so perfect after all.

Still, she had to keep an open mind. They didn't know what type of man Jim Alba would be, not yet.

They got out of the car and breezed through the stormy afternoon. Morgan felt the light drizzle on her clothes before she took refuge under the awning of the porch.

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