Page 5 of For Rage

Morgan turned around to see the front of the woman. Her eyes were open and lifeless, her cheeks barely flushed from the life that had only recently flowed through her.

They were too late.

Numb, Morgan took out her phone. Rain drops splashed against the screen as she called Derik. He answered right away.

"Cross—"

"Call it off," Morgan said.

"What?"

"I said call it off, Derik. I found her."

"Is she ..."

Derik trailed off, likely already knowing the answer based off Morgan's silence.

"Okay," Derek conceded. "Let's call it off."

Morgan hung up the phone and sat there for a moment, feeling the rain as it pelted her from above. She felt helpless, like she had failed. This was not the outcome she had hoped for. But it was too late now.

Maybe all of this was a trick, a diversion tactic of some kind. Maybe there was never any hope of finding this young woman alive.

Morgan stood up, her eyes fixed on the lifeless body of the victim. She felt a sense of failure wash over her. They were too late to save this woman. She wondered how many more would be taken before they caught the Maze Killer.

A sense of anger took over her. This was personal now. The killer had called the FBI here directly, taunted them, dangling this woman's life over their noses, and Morgan couldn't let that slide. It was as if the killer wasn't satisfied by the police's incompetence, so he wanted more of a challenge. As if people's lives were simply a game to him.

Morgan took a deep breath, wiping the rain from her face. She had to keep her emotions under control, had to stay focused on the task at hand. She couldn't let the anger consume her, not now, not when they were so close. She had to find a way to stop the Maze Killer, to end this madness once and for all. Morgan knew that the only way to catch this sick and twisted individual was to get inside his mind. She had to think like him, to understand what made him tick. It wasn't going to be easy, but he'd made a mistake by choosing to mess with the FBI.

"Cross!" a voice called, and Morgan turned to see Derik rushing up with a crew of officers. The rain lightened, but the damage had been done to the crime scene. Like the last one, Morgan was sure they'd find nothing.

"Hey." Morgan nodded at Derik.

His face darkened as he walked up to the body. "We couldn't save her," Derik said, his voice low and filled with regret.

Morgan nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the victim's face. She felt a deep sadness wash over her, a feeling of loss that she couldn't quite shake off. This woman had been someone's daughter, someone's friend, someone's sister. And now, she was gone, taken by a killer who seemed to relish in the pain and suffering of others.

"We need to catch this guy," Morgan said firmly, her jaw clenched.

Derik nodded, his eyes burning with determination. "We will," he said. "In the meantime"—he gestured to the officers around him—"let's get this scene extracted. We need all the forensic evidence we can get."

Morgan watched as the officers moved around the crime scene, snapping photos and collecting evidence. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness wash over her as she realized how little they had to go on. The Maze Killer was cunning, and he seemed to always be one step ahead of them.

But Morgan refused to give up. She'd spent ten years in prison, and she'd survived it.

She could survive this too.

Just then, a voice boomed over the sound of officers' voices and the rain. "Let me through, let me through!" A man pushed his way through the crowd.

The governor.

This was his estate, after all, and the officers had clearly failed to keep him out of the maze. A small, mousy officer tried to hold him back, but he pushed his way through. The governor was a tall man, towering over the other officers at the scene. His hair, a mix of salt and pepper, was cut short and neatly styled. He had a strong jawline and piercing eyes that surveyed the situation with authority. His posture was authoritative, and his presence commanded attention.

"Sir, please, you shouldn't—" the officer began, but the governor's eyes had already fallen on the dead body half-buried in his garden maze. His face went pale, but only for a moment. He looked right at Morgan and Derik; unlike the other officers on the scene, they were dressed in basic black, and he must have sensed they were the FBI agents in charge.

"Do you have any idea how big of a scandal this could be for me?" the governor asked.

Morgan glowered. This was what he cared about at a time like this? "A woman is dead on your property, governor."

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