Page 39 of For Wrath

"Exactly,"Mark nodded, his eyes filled with fear. "I’ve left many clinics because ofhim. I'd find security footage showing him lurking around, watching me. I don'tknow how he does it, but he always manages to track me down."

Morgan consideredthis new information, her mind racing as she weighed its credibility. Was MarkHolland simply a frightened man on the run from a dangerous former friend? Orwas he using this elaborate story to cover up his own guilt? She couldn't besure, but one thing was certain: she needed to find out more about John Pesci.

Mark's voicetrembled as he continued, "I'm terrified of John, Agent Cross. And I'meven more terrified for my wife's life. When I learned about the serial killerwho'd been cutting women's faces on the news... it scared me to the core. Ican't help but think that it might be him."

Morgan crossedher arms, her brow furrowed as she processed Mark's words. The room seemed togrow colder, the sterile walls closing in around them with each revelation. Sheclenched her fists, anger, and frustration churning within her. How could thisman have evaded them for so long? She glanced at Mark, noting the genuine fearin his eyes. It was either an impressive act or the desperate plea of aterrified man.

"Are yousaying you believe John is the killer?" Morgan asked, unable to hide theincredulity in her voice.

"Yes,"Mark whispered, almost too softly to hear. "He's become obsessed withyouth, with beauty. He'd do anything to hold onto it, even if it meant hurtingothers. I... I think he was stealing files from my office to find victims. Peopleare looking for ways to look younger, to erase their imperfections. They wereperfect targets for someone like John."

Morgan felt herchest tighten, her heart pounding against her ribs. The implications of whatMark was telling her were staggering. If he was right, then they had stumbledupon something far more sinister than they had ever imagined. But she couldn'tlet herself get carried away by conjecture – not when there were lives atstake.

"Alright,"she said, her voice steely and determined. "We'll look into this JohnPesci character. But if I find out that you're lying, Mark, or if you'rewithholding any information... I promise you; there will be consequences."

Mark noddedvigorously, gratitude and relief etched across his face. "Thank you, AgentCross. I just want my wife to be safe.”

“I’m going to setyou up with a police escort who will pick you up here and send another officerto go check on your wife. Is she at home?”

“She might be,”Mark said. “She likes to go out during the day—walks to the park, grocerystore… I can call her right now.”

“Good, do that,”Morgan said. “And don’t leave. Your escort will be here soon.”

Morgan stood up,her mind already racing with possible leads and strategies. She couldn't affordto waste any time – not when the killer could strike again at any moment. Asshe exited the room, Mark's desperate words echoed in her mind, fueling herresolve to uncover the truth and bring justice to the victims.

CHAPTERTWENTY FOUR

Mark huddledunder the clinic's awning, his heart hammering in his chest. His eyes dartedleft to right, searching for anyone or anything that seemed out of place. Apolice escort was supposed to arrive any minute now, but the seconds dragged onlike an eternity.

"Harriet,please pick up," he murmured into his phone, his breath fogging up thescreen. No response. He tried her number again, but it went straight tovoicemail, just as it had the last four times he'd called. Panic gnawed at theedges of his mind. Where was she? Was she safe? "Dammit, Harriet, whereare you?" he whispered, anxiety making his voice tremble.

His phone buzzedin his hand, jolting him out of his thoughts. An unknown number. Heartpounding, he hesitated a moment before answering.

"Hello?"he said with a shaky voice.

"Mark, oldbuddy!" The voice on the other end was chillingly familiar, sending ashiver down Mark's spine. "It's been too long."

"John."Mark's throat tightened, bile rising in his gut. How could he forget thatvoice? The man he once considered a brother now turned into a cold-bloodedkiller.

"Surprisedto hear from me?" John's voice oozed with false sincerity, each wordtwisting the knife deeper into Mark's gut.

"Wh-what doyou want?" Mark stammered, gripping his phone so tightly his knucklesturned white.

"Relax,Mark. I just wanted to catch up." Even through the fear, Mark could tellJohn was lying. There was something else, something sinister simmering beneaththe surface. “I saw you, you know,” he said. “That FBI agent walked right intoyour clinic… something tells me she wasn’t getting work done,” John's voicetaunted, a wicked undertone that made Mark's skin crawl. "She seems…interesting.”

Mark's pulsequickened as he realized how close John had been watching him. He imaginedJohn's cold eyes following his every move, and it sent a shudder down hisspine. "What do you care? Just stay away from me!" he snapped, ragesimmering just beneath the surface of his fear.

"Or what,Mark?" John laughed, the sound echoing in Mark's ears like the peals of ademonic bell. "You think you can scare me? You're nothing. You’re old anddisgusting looking now. You were always jealous of me.”

The anger boilinginside Mark threatened to spill over, but he knew he had to keep it in check.Losing control wouldn't help Harriet. He clenched his jaw, swallowing back thebile that threatened to rise in his throat. "Leave us alone, John. Wehaven't done anything to you."

"Ah, but yousee, Mark… That's where you're wrong." The menace in John's voice waspalpable, sending a jolt of terror through Mark's body. "You betrayed me.And now, your precious Harriet will pay the price."

"John,please," Mark pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice. "Don'thurt her. She has nothing to do with this."

"Too latefor that, old friend." John's voice was cold, devoid of any warmth orempathy they once shared. "She's next. Goodbye, Mark. Enjoy what littletime you have left."

As the line wentdead, Mark's world seemed to collapse around him. His breathing came in short,ragged gasps, his heart hammering in his chest. Hands shaking, he dialedHarriet's number once more, praying that she would answer.

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