Page 15 of For Wrath


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"Goodevening," a chipper receptionist greeted her from behind a sleek desk."How can I help you?"

"Hello,"Morgan replied, flashing her FBI badge, gaining a surprised look from the girl."I'm Special Agent Morgan Cross. I'd like to speak with Dr. LanceFriedman, please."

"Of course!Let me check if he's available." The receptionist typed something into hercomputer, her fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease. "Dr.Friedman is in his office. I'll take you there."

"Thankyou," Morgan said, her eyes scanning the unsettling images on the walls asthey walked down a pristine hallway. The place seemed almost too clean, tooperfect - just like the faces that stared back at her. As the receptionist ledher to Dr. Friedman's office, Morgan steeled herself for the confrontationahead. There was a chance she was about to come face-to-face with a killer.

The door to Dr.Friedman's office opened with a soft click, revealing a spacious room devoid ofthe unnerving photographs that adorned the hallways. Instead, it was filledwith an array of diplomas and awards; each displayed prominently on the walls.Morgan stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the sterile environment beforesettling on the man behind the desk.

"Dr. LanceFriedman?" she asked, her tone authoritative as she flashed her FBI badge.

"Y-yes,that's me," he stammered, his pale face gleaming under the fluorescentlights, his blond hair almost too perfect to be real. His skin was pulled tightacross his face, making it difficult for Morgan to guess his age. It was clearhe'd had his share of work done as well.

"AgentMorgan Cross, FBI," she introduced herself, studying him closely. "Ihave some questions I'd like to ask you."

"O-ofcourse," he said, trying to sound composed but failing to hide thenervousness in his voice. He gestured at the chair opposite his desk."Please, have a seat."

Morgan sat down,her eyes never leaving him. She reached into her bag and pulled out twophotographs. "Do you recognize this woman?" she asked, sliding theimage of Sheryl Stewart across the table.

Friedman pickedit up, scrutinizing the face in the picture. "No, I don't believe I'veever seen her before." His words were hesitant, but Morgan sensed nodeception in them.

"Alright,"she said, setting the first photo aside and presenting him with the second one,a photo of Bethany Good. "What about this woman?"

Recognitionflickered in his eyes, and he nodded reluctantly. "Yes, she's a client ofmine."

"Was,"Morgan corrected him gravely. "She was found dead in her home yesterday.Much like the first woman I showed you, her face had been mutilated in agrotesque facelift."

Friedman's eyeswidened in shock, and Morgan saw a hint of genuine concern beneath the façadethat his own surgical alterations had created. "I... I had no idea,"he whispered, his hands trembling slightly.

"Tell meabout your relationship with Bethany Good," she pressed on, watching hisevery reaction carefully.

"Ofcourse," Friedman said quietly, his voice barely audible. "Bethanywas a loyal client for years. She came to me for various procedures but alwaystrusted my judgment when it came to the specific treatments."

"Isee," Morgan replied, her mind racing with questions and doubts. Though heclaimed not to know Sheryl Stewart, there was something unsettling about Dr.Lance Friedman. And as the pieces slowly began to fall into place, she knew shewould need to dig deeper to uncover the truth behind these gruesome crimes.

"Dr.Friedman," Morgan said, her tone serious but not unkind, "I haveinformation suggesting that you may have pressured Ms. Good into undergoingmore surgical procedures than were necessary."

"Pressured?"Friedman exclaimed, indignant. "No, absolutely not! I only ever did whatBethany wanted, what she felt would make her happy. She was very particularabout her appearance, Agent Cross. But I never forced her into anything."

Morgan studiedhis face, the unnatural smoothness of his skin, and the too-perfect curve ofhis eyebrows. It was hard to gauge his true emotions under the mask thatsurgery had provided him. She knew she couldn't let her guard down; she had topush for the truth.

"Dr.Friedman," Morgan began, choosing her words carefully, "your work iscertainly impressive. But I have to ask: are there any procedures yourecommended to Bethany that might have been... excessive? Anything that couldhave put her in danger?"

"AgentCross, I assure you, everything I did for Bethany was within the bounds ofprofessional ethics and with her best interests at heart," he insisted,his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I'm a doctor, after all. Mypriority is my patients' well-being."

Morgan took adeep breath, feeling the weight of the investigation pressing down on her.She'd seen the carnage left behind by this killer, and she knew that if shedidn't find the truth soon, more lives could be lost. But as she looked intoFriedman's eyes, she found it difficult to ascertain whether he was beingentirely truthful or if there was something more sinister lurking beneath thesurface. Sheryl wasn't one of his clients, but Bethany was. She wanted to talkto someone else who knew him.

"Before Igo, Dr. Friedman," Morgan said, her voice steady and assertive, "I'dlike to speak with one of your current clients. Could you provide me with a list?”

Friedmanhesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered her request.Finally, he relented. "Very well," he said. “My receptionist willprint you off a list. You can grab it on your way out.”

"Thank you,"Morgan replied. "And remember, don't leave town." Her tone was morewarning than request.

"Understood,"Friedman murmured, his gaze locked onto hers.

On her way out ofthe office, Morgan stopped by the receptionist’s desk. Lance lurked behind herand said, “Please print the agent off a list of our most recent clients, thepast six months or so.”

The receptionistquickly did as she was told, typing on her computer before the printer behindher buzzed to life. Morgan watched as a sheet rolled out, and the girl handedit to her. Morgan took the warm paper, glancing down the list of clients withtheir names, phone numbers, and addresses. The top one was a woman named Patty,who had come in just yesterday.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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