By reason of insanity

103

At first, Jamarcus Webb was skeptical. The last six months had been among the hardest in his life. His friend Catherine O'Rourke had gone to jail to protect him as her source. But when the evidence began mounting against her, Jamarcus did what he had to do.

Even at the time, he knew how much it would cost him.

He told the police chief everything he knew about Catherine, revealing his own status as Catherine's inside source and bringing down the wrath of the entire department on his head. A disciplinary board would ultimately decide his fate. In the meantime, he had been reassigned to administrative duty. He cursed the day he had first met Catherine O'Rourke.

So it didn't make sense when he accepted her collect call from jail. It made even less sense when her supposed confession turned into a plea for help. She had seen another vision. Quinn Newberg was in trouble. This time the handwriting was not a Scripture verse but a location. Class Action.

"Marc Boland is the Avenger of Blood," Catherine said, pleading with Jamarcus to believe her. "It all makes sense. Please, Jamarcus, I'm begging you. Go check it out."

Against his better judgment, he did.

He watched from a perch on the deck of a neighboring boat as Quinn Newberg climbed onto Class Action, carrying what was left of his six-pack. He saw Quinn's investigator, Billy Long, appear a few minutes later, silently waiting in the shadows on deck. Through the tinted glass of the salon area he could see Quinn and Marc Boland engaged in tense conversation until the shades came down and covered the windows. A minute or two later, he watched Billy Long scramble inside the pilothouse, gun drawn.

Five minutes later, the engines of Class Action started, and then Marc Boland began unmooring the boat from the dock.

Questions raced through Jamarcus's head. Why had Billy Long been sneaking around the boat? What had happened to make the man hustle inside the pilothouse, gun drawn? Where were these three going at this time of night?

And a final question, one that haunted him most of all: could Catherine O'Rourke really be innocent, her visions the result of some supernatural gift?

To his astonishment, Jamarcus heard some faint shouting from below deck. Somebody-Quinn?-yelling for help, calling for the police. Somebody was facing imminent harm-a legal justification for boarding the boat. Jamarcus knew he would probably regret it later, but as Class Action began pulling away from the dock, he crouched low, jogged to the starboard side away from Marc Boland's line of sight, and jumped on board.

As they cruised out to the Chesapeake Bay, Jamarcus squatted on the outside deck, peering through the windows to the main pilothouse. As he watched Boland pilot the boat, Jamarcus flashed back to the phone call with Catherine. In her vision, she had seen Quinn Newberg sitting in a makeshift electric chair. Could that be what was happening below deck?

Jamarcus had to be careful here. He was an officer of the law. He was piling one assumption on top of another. What did he really have?

He slipped around to the back of the boat and quietly entered the salon area through the sliding door. He pulled out his gun and moved quickly to the steps at the front of the salon leading to the pilothouse, being careful to stay out of sight. Billy Long had just come up from below deck.

"He's all yours," Billy said to Bo, taking Bo's place in the pilot's seat.

"I'm going to be a real gentleman about it," Bo said. "Give him a last meal and everything."

"Your call," Long said gruffly. "He's no different than the others."

The exchange confirmed Jamarcus's worst fears, but it also bought him a little time. They were planning to give Quinn a last meal.

Jamarcus listened for any disturbances below and, hearing none, found the location of the fuse box. He waited until Class Action hit the big waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Then, as Billy Long hunched over a chart, Jamarcus crept up behind the captain's chair, said a quick prayer, and knocked Billy out cold with the butt of his gun.

Jamarcus had no idea how to pilot a yacht, so he decided not to touch any of the controls. He checked for Billy's pulse, found one, and scrambled to the fuse box. He cut off the lights below deck and headed for the stairs. He let silence answer Marc Boland's calls to Billy.

Jamarcus slipped into the master suite just as Boland peered out the door of the smaller suite. Jamarcus let his eyes adjust to the darkness for a moment, then heard a scuffle from the adjoining room.

Gun drawn, he rounded the corner.