By reason of insanity

33

Cat left her Sunday afternoon beach volleyball game early and headed back to her duplex. She was wearing shades, shorts, and a bathing suit top and carrying her sandals so the warm sand could squeeze between her toes. She loved this time of year at the beach-late spring, just before the tourists arrived. Today was unseasonably warm for late May-the high eighties-and it felt good to let the sun's rays bake her exposed skin.

When she got to the boardwalk, she rinsed off the sand at the public spigots and slipped on her sandals. Her duplex was only two blocks south on the other side of Atlantic Avenue. As she walked away from the beach, her mind shifted to the Avenger and the many unanswered questions surrounding the Avenger's death spree. She felt the familiar lead weight in her stomach that came each time she thought about this. Later today, Cat would call Jamarcus and find out about the DNA test results.

From a distance, she noticed a few police vehicles but didn't really comprehend at first that they were centered around her duplex. She walked toward the scene, curious. Cat counted at least four marked cruisers and several other sedans that she didn't recognize from the neighborhood.

As she grew closer, she noticed a news van and a couple of cameramen. Her skin bristled with anxiety as somebody turned in her direction and pointed. Cameras swung toward her, and there was nothing left to do but walk straight toward them, chin high, looking beyond the two cameramen to her duplex.

Jamarcus Webb and two uniformed officers met her on the sidewalk. "Catherine O'Rourke?" he asked.

She glanced from Jamarcus to the other officers-all of them staring at her with no-nonsense expressions, as if she might be Jack the Ripper.

"Yes?"

"You're under arrest for the murder of Paul Donaldson," Jamarcus said. The other officers moved in to handcuff her. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

Stunned, Cat barely heard the rest of Jamarcus's words. This couldn't be happening! Not to her!

As the officers hustled her toward a police cruiser, the reality of events came crashing through. They think I'm a serial killer.

She suddenly became cognizant of the cameras recording every step, the details of her shocked facial expression. She lowered her head, thankful for her oversize sunglasses. She felt naked and exposed.

An officer opened the back door of a cruiser and put a hand on top of Cat's head so she would duck as she climbed into the car. Cat stopped just before crawling into the cruiser and took a fleeting glance at Jamarcus.

He stood there like an unfeeling statue. Disgust lined every wrinkle of his face.