By reason of insanity

55

The next morning, Marc Boland took to the airwaves even before Quinn boarded his flight for Las Vegas. Marc was on the offensive, doing his best to take the sting out of the assault-and-battery charges Boyd Gates apparently planned on filing later in the day. Marc expressed sincere concern for the safety of his client. He said that Catherine had been harassed repeatedly by her cellmate in the past few days. He said the guards had not responded to her requests for protection because they were upset about the articles she had written about conditions in the jail.

He said Catherine finally had to take matters into her own hands and defend herself. Then, to Boland's great surprise, prison officials had punished Catherine by putting her in solitary confinement for several days. Now that Catherine was going back into the general inmate population, Boland said he would be filing a motion for a restraining order to keep Holly Stephenson away from Catherine O'Rourke.

It was, Quinn thought, a nice preemptive strike, but he knew it would get swept away later in the day when Boyd Gates released the pictures of Holly's bloody face.

Catherine O'Rourke stared at the wall during her last day in solitary confinement, pleading for another vision. What is this-some cruel cosmic joke? The visions had been vivid enough, and accurate enough, to land her behind bars. She hadn't asked for this power, this curse. But now that she needed the visions to come back with greater force and detail so she could actually help the authorities solve these crimes, now that she did everything within her power to enable them, the visions were nowhere to be found.

She tried to empty her mind. She tried focusing on the wall and then on the psychic power within her. She thought about the victims of the crimes and the night of her own rapes and the biblical verses the Avenger had cited.

But no matter how hard she tried, the visions would not come back. Catherine O'Rourke, infamous medium or hated serial murderer, depending on your perspective, could not conjure up even a hint of the Avenger's ghost. She stared at an empty wall, frustrated.

Where were these vaunted powers when she really needed them?

After Quinn survived the media gauntlet waiting for him at the end of his flight, he headed into his office. Melanie left at five and Quinn barely noticed, consumed by the mound of paperwork his three-day absence had generated. He was still hunched over his computer at 9 p.m. when the phone call came.

Annie's number registered on his cell phone. She was probably nervous about tomorrow's hearing, but he didn't have time right now. He hit Ignore. He would call her back in a few minutes, as soon as he finished with these e-mails.

Two minutes later, she called a second time. It wasn't like Annie to be so persistent. He picked up on the third ring.

"Quinn?"

She sounded stressed, enough so to squeeze his heart. "You okay?" he asked.

"No." Her voice cracked a little. "It's Sierra, Quinn. She…" Annie took a breath, obviously struggling to maintain composure, her voice thin and fragile. "She tried to kill herself, Quinn. Sleeping pills. Something like half a bottle…" Annie's words trailed off.

Quinn bolted from his chair. "Where is she now, Annie?"

"Desert Springs Hospital. The emergency room. The Schlesingers found Sierra in her bedroom and called me. I met them here."

"Don't move," said Quinn, already heading for the door. "I'll be right over."