Page 17 of For Wrath

"Staysafe," Dom called after her as she left their home. The door clicked shutbehind her, and Morgan allowed herself a moment to process everything she hadjust learned.

"Time to payDr. Friedman another visit," she muttered under her breath, reaching forher phone to call for backup as she walked towards her car. Her fingers tappednervously on the steering wheel as she drove back to the clinic, her mindracing with the possibilities. Were Patty and Sheryl simply isolated cases, orwas there something more sinister at play?

CHAPTER NINE

Morgan arrived atLance's clinic to find it empty, the bright atmosphere tainted by the suspicionnow clouding her thoughts. Police officers combed through the sterileenvironment, examining the unsettling photos of unnaturally smooth faces thatadorned the walls. The receptionist sat behind the front desk, her handsclasped tightly in her lap as she watched the activity around her.

"Where's Dr.Friedman?" Morgan asked, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of him.

The receptionistshook her head, her voice trembling slightly. "He left right after you didearlier, Agent Cross. He seemed... agitated."

"Did he saywhere he was going?" Morgan pressed, trying to suppress her growing senseof urgency.

"No,"the receptionist admitted, biting her lip. "But he took his laptop andsome files with him. It looked like he was in a hurry."

"Damnit," Morgan cursed under her breath. The pieces were starting to fall intoplace, but she needed to find Friedman before she could confirm her suspicions.She turned to one of the officers nearby, her voice firm. "I want eyes onevery airport, train station, and bus terminal in the city. Friedman can't havegone far."

"Understood,Agent Cross," the officer replied, immediately relaying her orders to hiscolleagues.

As she watchedthe flurry of activity around her, Morgan couldn't shake the nagging feelingthat they were running out of time. The killer had already claimed two victims,and if Lance Friedman was involved, he would likely strike again. She needed tofind him – and fast – before another woman's face became his twisted canvas.

Morgan's gazelingered on the empty doorway of Dr. Friedman's office, a chill running downher spine as she considered the implications of his sudden disappearance. Thereceptionist fidgeted nervously under Morgan's scrutiny, wringing her hands inher lap. Morgan got the sense that the girl knew more than she was letting on.

"Are yousure you don't know where he went?" Morgan asked.

The receptionistwrung her hands more, nervousness written all over her face. "I...well..." She sighed. "I think there's something you shouldknow."

"Goon," Morgan urged.

"Dr.Friedman asked me to book him another flight to Mexico," she confessed,her eyes downcast. "He seemed really desperate to leave like he was tryingto escape something. It was strange because he just got back from a trip lastnight."

"Mexico?"Morgan repeated, her mind racing. "Did he mention why he was goingthere?"

"No, butI've overheard him talking about plastic surgery practices on the phone withpeople I didn't recognize," she continued, her voice barely above awhisper. "I... I hate to say it, but I suspect he might be taking bribesto send clients to Mexico for dangerous surgeries that are illegal here inAmerica."

"Last night,you said?" Morgan asked, gears turning in her head. If Lance had been inMexico last night, then he couldn't have been in the country when SherylStewart died. Then again, maybe he was never in Mexico. Morgan needed to knowmore.

The receptionistnodded. "Yes, he came back late last night. I thought it was odd that hewanted to leave again so soon and right after your visit, no less."

Morgan clenchedher fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She needed answers, but itfelt like every new lead only led to more questions.

"Thank youfor your help," Morgan said, forcing her voice to remain steady."We'll find Dr. Friedman and get to the bottom of this. In the meantime,stay safe and let us know if he tries to contact you."

Morgan stormedback outside just as her cell phone rang again. She took it out and answeredpromptly, propping a hand on her hip as she took in the street around her.

“This is Cross,”she said.

“Cross, we’ve goteyes on Friedman,” the officer on the other end said. “We’ve spotted his car,and it looks like he’s heading straight to the airport.”

Morgan grits herteeth. It was like she'd suspected—Lance was trying to make a run for it.

Not on her watch.

“I’m coming rightnow,” Morgan said.

***

Morgan’s heartpounded in her chest as she burst into the Dallas airport, eyes scanning thesea of people before her. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, igniting afire within her as she searched for Lance Friedman. Her gaze fell upon theilluminated departure board, and there it was – the flight to Mexico City, nowboarding.

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