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The White Robe Part 3 - Investigation

By BlindTiger

The night was cold and the sheets and blankets in the cell were not thick or warm. Adequate was a term that could have been used on any warmer night, but this evening was not one of those nights. Caitlin shivered under the blankets and tried to clear the sedative fog from her brain. Thinking came slowly and thickly like her neurons had turned to molasses.

At the very edge of her consciousness, throughout her drugged sleep, she'd heard the intermittent wailing and crying coming from the open window. The sounds from the courtyard mingled in her mind with confused images of Hunter over her, covered in blood, still thrusting away inside her, then her waking up on the couch and seeing her friends dead and lying all around her.

Slowly the images cleared and she swam up and up towards consciousness. As her thoughts rose, she started to become aware of that pitiful moaning. It was still coming from outside the window. Or was it her, starting again? She shook her head, trying to clear the last of the cobwebs.

Slowly, she tried to piece together everything from when she'd felt the needle. Random images and memories were all she could put together, nothing coherent and nothing with a point of reference she could use to figure out what time it was or how long she'd been drugged. It was dark outside and the lights were off in the cells. From the window, though, she could see amber light similar to street lighting. The lights must stay on in the courtyard all night long.

Again came a low moaning cry from the window. Caitlin sat up and nearly passed out once again as dizziness overtook her. She put a hand out on the bunk to steady herself until it passed, then sat there wondering if she could muster the strength to stand. After a minute, she finally felt stable enough and she pushed herself to her feet. Another wave of dizziness and nausea assaulted her, but she knew how to deal with it this time and it passed much more quickly.

On shaky legs, she made her way to the window and looked out over the courtyard. The white-robed girl was still there in the center grassy section. She was leaned up against the pole, almost facing Caitlin. All the young girl would have to do was look up and she'd see Caitlin watching her.

But she didn't look up. She merely sat there, eyes downcast. Caitlin could see, even from her perch a story above the pitiful girl, the telltale shine of tears upon her cheeks. The white robe hung from her shoulders, open against her chest, though she made no move to close it. Caitlin looked a bit closer and saw that the robe was even more stained than she remembered.

Caitlin didn't hold much hope of going to sleep at this point. This was a place she didn't belong. Every little noise, from the creaking of the flag pole outside to the quiet snores of the girl in the next cell over made her more and more uncomfortable. Tears fell down her face and she realized she was more homesick than she'd ever been.

And now she really had no idea whether she'd ever be going home again. The girl in the white robe was down there for murder, and Officer Orfeo had said that she was here for the same thing. Could it be that she could be down there in a few days' time? That she would never again sleep in her own bed or see her mother opening her door to kiss her good night or share that last little joke with her father? This cold, dark, lonely cell overlooking the courtyard could be all she had left.

From her darkened cell, looking out across the courtyard, Caitlin could make out a solitary figure outlined by the hallway light shining through the window next to the door out from the cell block to the courtyard. The figure stood there, unmoving, simply watching out the window for quite some time. Just as Caitlin was about to sit back down on her bed to await the morning, the door opened and the figure stepped through. The light in the courtyard revealed Orfeo's face when she emerged, carrying a small white and red box.

She stopped just outside the door and let it close quietly behind her, careful to catch it with her paw and ease it shut so it didn't wake anyone inside the cells. Then she turned and walked to the central courtyard gate. The gate was well oiled and didn't make a sound when she opened it and stepped through. On the other side, she set down the box just inside the gate and slowly walked to the girl leaning against the pole. She approached like one would approach a feral, wounded animal. Slowly and as non-threateningly as possible, she finally eased herself up beside the girl and gently touched her on the shoulder.

Caitlin jumped when the girl sprang to her feet with a low, keening cry and backed away until the chain was drawn taut and she was pulled up short by the collar around her neck. Still, she tried to get away, to stand up and run. The collar cut off any sounds she may have been making, and all Caitlin could hear from her window were hoarse gasps and panting as she strained and pulled, every muscle taut against the pull of the chain. Orfeo stayed in place, sitting calmly and as small as she could make herself, waiting for the girl to realize that she didn't pose a threat.

Caitlin watched intently until finally, the girl tired herself out and sagged at the end of the chain. Her small, limp body lay on the grass, and Orfeo finally stood and retrieved her medical box, looking like she had all the time in the world. She walked slowly and carefully across the grass and knelt by the exhausted, panting, terrified girl. Caitlin wasn't sure what to expect at this point, but Orfeo only reached out and laid her paws gently on the girl's back. Too spent to do anything else, the girl only laid there.

Caitlin could hear a whispered voice almost singing, but she couldn't make out the words and it took her a moment of straining in the dim light to see Orfeo's mouth moving and she realized that the guard was quietly singing what sounded like a lullaby to the poor terrified girl. While she sang, she rummaged in the box she'd brought with her, drawing out some supplies - a needle, some tubing, and a large bag of fluid. The singing didn't stop as she drew back the sleeve on the girl's arm and slipped the needle into the space in her elbow. Then she hooked up the tubing to the bag of fluid and hung the bag off one of the higher links in the chain.

When she was done, she slid herself closer and sat cross-legged on the ground next to the girl. Slowly, gently, she coaxed the girl's head into her lap and then sat there, singing the song while she stroked the girl's head, smoothing back her hair over her dirty and tear-streaked face. Caitlin watched the whole thing from her window, not daring to move, not sure she could tear her eyes away even if she wanted to.

As the fluid dripped out of the bag and into the girl, Orfeo pulled another bag out of the box she'd brought with her. Caitlin could just make out the shine of the clear plastic and finally figured out that it was just a standard zipping plastic bag. From the bag, Orfeo pulled out little chunks of something and gently put them in the girl's mouth, coaxing her to eat until finally she chewed and swallowed.

The sight of the big wolf being so tenderly caring for the girl in the courtyard brought tears to Caitlin's eyes, and eventually she couldn't stand to watch any more. She turned away from the window and lay down on her bunk, willing herself to go back to sleep but failing. She could only lay there and wonder just how many hours there were until the sun would rise again.

---

Inspector Corbett had gone through all the evidence and the lab reports. The guys down in the lab had finally given him the official word. They had found nineteen different sets of fingerprints around the apartment. They included all of the dead kids, the parents who owned the house, Kincaid's, of course, and nine separate others. He'd also received the recording of the emergency call that had led the police to respond to the house in the late hours of the morning.

The house he pulled up to looked like just about every other house on the block. There were only five different models to choose from in this subdivision, so each one just looked like a cookie cutter version of another just a little ways away. The only identifying features were the numbers on the front of the houses and the different landscaping in the front. Each house was painted a drab earth tone, leading to a uniform look for the neighborhood. He supposed they all liked it that way, and it did keep people from being too annoying with their choices of decoration and such. He never understood, though, why people would give up their individuality like that.

My head's running away with me again, he thought. Work the case, Corbett, just work the case. He took a minute to collect his thoughts before he opened the door and climbed out. As he walked to the door, he pulled his tablet from his coat pocket and flicked it on, pulling up the latest dossier on the kid he was about to visit. So far, his interviews had been less that enlightening. Every single one left the party early when things had started to wind down. It seemed that the ones who stayed were all a close-knit group of friends who regularly hung out together. This kid, a Josh Riley, from the file on the tablet, was the first one he'd found that was anywhere near being in that social circle, so odds were he'd left later in the party and may have seen something interesting.

There was one further name on his tablet that stuck out and threw up alarm bells everywhere. Hunter Lewis, son of Senator Lewis. From what central had been able to determine, and from his interviews, he'd learned that Hunter and Caitlin had been an item, but no one could say that there was any bad blood between the two. He thought back to the warning that the doctor had given him in the bar about senator Lewis throwing his weight around pretty well on this case, and he was betting that Hunter had something to do with it. Trouble was, no one was willing or able to directly point a finger at him. The best he'd gotten so far was a vague "he doesn't feel right, you know?" from one of the earlier partygoers. Here was to hoping that he'd have better luck with Riley.

The tablet went back into its pocket when he approached the door. There wasn't any particular reason to be too cautious with this interview, so he put on his best friendly face and knocked on the door. A well-dressed and conventionally pretty squirrel opened the door. Corbett was used to the look of shock that he always received when he went on these interviews. People generally had a dim view of the police, and he couldn't really say he blamed them. There was bad press everywhere and some of his fellow officers didn't do anything to dispel the rumors, in fact, some of them went out of their way to perpetuate them and make them into truth.

That being the case, he put on his best smile an held out a hand in introduction. "Ms. Riley?" he asked politely, waiting for the nod before he continued, "I'm Inspector Corbett."

Patricia Riley reached out and gently took the inspector's offered hand, a wary look still in her eye. "What can I do for you, inspector?"

"No doubt you've heard about the murders at the party yesterday?" Corbett asked, positive that she had. When she nodded, he continued, "I'm the investigator assigned to the case. Is Joshua at home?"

"What does Josh have to do with the murders?" Patricia asked.

"Our lab techs found his fingerprints at the residence, ma'am, so as a formality, I need to speak with him. He is not suspected of anything and I'm not here to arrest him. I need to talk to him to get his story of the events so we can make sure that whoever did it can be caught."

Patricia regarded the inspector for a moment, "You've already caught who did it. It was all over the news."

Corbett sighed heavily and tried to keep from rolling his eyes. It never failed, no matter how they tried to prevent it, the news always seemed to put the story out there in a way that made the outcome a certainty, at least in the minds of the people watching. "Ma'am, we do have a suspect in custody, but I still have to investigate to ensure all the facts are laid before the magistrates. Especially in a case like this, we have to be very sure that we have all the information available. May I please speak with Joshua?"

Patricia hesitated for just a moment more, and Corbett could see the debate taking place behind her eyes. Finally her common sense won out and she stepped back from the door to invite him in. She didn't say another word to him, just closed the door behind him and called up the stairs. "Josh! Come downstairs please."

Pounding steps sounded through the ceiling above their head and it was only seconds before a young squirrel made his way to the top of the stairs. He stopped dead when he turned and saw Corbett. His eyes went from the inspector to his mother, then back again. Slowly, though, he started to come down the stairs, taking each step almost as slowly as he could with his eyes fixed on Corbett's badge.

"It's all right, Josh," Corbett said in his best friendly voice. "I'm here to talk to you about the party you went to the night before last."

Josh swallowed and sat down on the stairs. There was a look of fear on the young boy's face, with something else behind it. "I don't really want to talk about it," he said quietly.

"I know you don't Josh. I wouldn't want to talk about it either, but I need to know what happened."

Josh took a breath and paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Amanda invited me to her party and I went because her parents have a killer stereo system and I wanted to play on it. She said I could be the DJ for the party, and that's what I did all night. I saw some friends, played some music, had a good time and went home."

"What time did you leave, Josh?"

Josh thought for a minute longer, "I think I left about two in the morning. Things were starting to wind down and I didn't feel like staying in a strange house, so I hitched a ride with Cameron."

Corbett reached inside his coat again for his tablet and took a few notes, then pulled the case file back up. "That would be Cameron Speck, correct?"

Josh nodded, "Yeah, that's him. He gave me a ride home and I went to sleep."

"Did you see anything that you thought was out of place, or strange going on before you left?"

Josh shook his head. "Not really, sir. It was just a party with a bunch of kids."

"Did you see Caitlin Kincaid there?"

Josh nodded, "Yeah, she was there. I offered to play some Broken Hearts for her, but it looked like she didn't need it, anyway."

Corbett lowered his tablet, "Why is that?"

Josh chuckled, "Well, rumor was she'd broken up with her boyfriend, but they were dancing together later on that night. Getting kind of close and grinding, you know. Looked like she was still having fun with him."

Corbett checked his notes again. "That was Hunter Lewis?" he asked.

Josh nodded again, "Yeah, she and Hunter were kind of the item of the century for a while. Everyone thought they'd be the ones who got married later on. They were so into each other, but then things just kind of fell apart, no one knew why."

"So Hunter was at the party, then?"

"Yeah, he was there. Like I said, Hunter and Caitlin were getting pretty down with each other out on the dance floor." Josh frowned. "I didn't see them again after that, though. Someone said they went upstairs together, but I didn't see. Next think I know, she's on the news. Did she really kill everyone, sir?"

Corbett shook his head and took a few more notes. "That's what I'm trying to find out, Josh. Was Caitlin acting strangely at all?"

Josh shook his head. "No, just her normal self."

Corbett frowned and turned to Patricia, "Ma'am, would you give me a moment alone with Josh?"

Patricia frowned and looked at her son.

"It's all right, mom," he said in response to the unasked question.

Patricia nodded and stalked out of the room, letting the kitchen door swing shut behind her.

Corbett lowered his voice a bit so it wouldn't carry. "Josh, I'm not here to investigate you, and whatever you say here to my next questions won't endanger you in any way, okay?"

Josh nodded, his eyes wide and focused on the inspector.

"Was there anyone using drugs at the party?" Corbett asked.

Josh shook his head, "No, sir. I don't think so. Amanda hates drugs and no one she hangs out with would do them." He looked down at his shoes and fidgeted for a second before looking back up. "We did have drinks, sir. Amanda's parents stocked some beer and stuff in the fridge. But that's all, it was just beer and cider and wine coolers. Nothing harder than that."

Corbett nodded, "Thanks for the honesty, Josh." He made a couple of notes, "You said Amanda hated drugs and wouldn't hang out with anyone who used them. Did Caitlin use drugs? Maybe without Amanda knowing? Or maybe Amanda knew and made allowance for her best friend?"

Josh shook his head emphatically, "No, sir. Caitlin was on track for a full ride scholarship. She'd never, ever endanger that."

Corbett sighed, "What about Hunter? Did he use drugs?"

Josh fidgeted a bit more and looked towards the kitchen door. The apprehension was plain on his face and in his body language, and Corbett frowned. "Josh, did Hunter use C?"

Josh closed his eyes and shook his head, "No, sir. I don't think so."

Corbett could hear the hesitation in the boy's voice and lowered his own voice some more. "Josh, you need to tell me the truth. Did Hunter use drugs?"

Josh shook his head again. "I don't think so, sir." The boy looked back into Corbett's eyes and what the inspector saw there made his blood run cold. There was pure, naked terror in the boy's eyes, and they shifted from the kitchen door to Corbett's face and back again.

"Why are you so afraid, Josh?" Corbett asked. "Did someone threaten you?"

Josh shook his head frantically. "No sir. I'm not feeling well, can I go now?"

As if on cue, Patricia Riley opened the door and came out of the kitchen, a look of determination on her face. "Inspector, you've asked your questions, and you're upsetting my son. I'd like you to leave now, please."

"Ma'am, please. I need to know what's going on."

"We've told you what we know, inspector," Patricia said, her voice stern and commanding. "Now, I'd like you to leave before I call and file a complaint with my attorney."

Corbett sighed and straightened up, tucking his tablet away. "All right, ma'am," he said. From his pocket he drew a business card. "If you think of anything at all, please call me."

Patricia took the card and opened the door, the demand still plain on her face. Corbett just shook his head and made his way out the door.

_Someone got to them,_he thought as he walked to his car. He stopped about halfway to it, noticing a small white envelope tucked under the windshield wiper. Frowning, he walked the rest of the way to the car, pulling a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket. When they were on, he carefully plucked the envelope from the windshield and opened it.

From within, he drew a single photograph. It was of his daughter in school. She was standing by the gate, maybe waiting for her mother to come pick her up, looking adorable in her school uniform with her ever-present smile on her face. Beside the girl, though, leaning against a fence pillar, stood a badger in a dark suit and sunglasses. His gaze was directly on the little girl with a menacing expression on his face.

Corbett turned the picture over and read the block letters on the back. "Call me," was all it said with a phone number.

He stood there for a moment, trying to calm the beating of her heart that he was quite sure everyone in the neighborhood would be able to hear. Carefully, hands shaking, Corbett opened his trunk and pulled two evidence bags out, then slipped the envelope into one and the photo into another. He put them both on his front seat, then photographed both sides of each with the camera in his tablet. Even with time being as critical as it was, he had to do this right. He'd wait until he got back to his office to call, so he could have the recorder going on his phone. Things were going sideways here, and he really didn't like it when that happened.

---

It had taken a long time, but Caitlin had finally fallen asleep after a while, and she woke to the sound of the prison coming to life around her. The lights were already on in her cell and in the hallway by the time she opened her eyes, and she half expected that she'd awaken in her own bed at home with her mother stroking her head in her kind and gentle way while she told her that it was all a dream and that she loved her.

But she had no such luck. The only thing greeting her sight when she opened her eyes was the gleaming sliver form of the toilet in the corner and the brick wall behind it. A spare bit of sunlight streamed in through the window, just barely warming the cell.

Caitlin took a deep breath and finally sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before she looked around again. Nothing seemed to have changed from last night. Carefully, she made her way to the window to look out over the courtyard. The girl in the white robe was still in her place, sitting with her back leaning against the pole, the empty look still on her face.

Seeing the girl there still brought Caitlin's mind back to the night and she remembered what she saw of Momma Wolf out there taking care of her. Her mind was brimming with questions that needed answering and she was betting that Orfeo knew some of the answers that she wanted.

She was hoping that the wolf would be coming around to check in on everyone during the morning, but there was no such luck. The only person Caitlin saw was a younger squirrel girl dressed in the prison jumpsuit who delivered their morning meal. Caitlin looked at the unappetizing food lying on the tray in front of her and wondered if she was hungry enough to eat. Her stomach felt like it was in full rebellion, but she hadn't had anything to eat in almost a day, so in the end, hunger won out.

Done with breakfast, there was nothing to do in her cell, and she took to pacing the very short length between the window and the door. Every few trips to the window, she'd look out and see that the girl in the white robe hadn't moved an inch.

"You're gonna wear a hole in that floor, new girl," said the girl in the next cell who'd spoken with Caitlin the night before. "Either that, or you'll give yourself another panic attack."

Caitlin jumped at the voice and had to look around the cell for a moment before she placed the voice and figured out that it was coming from the window. Blushing slightly to herself at being caught in her worry, she made her way to the window and looked out again, surveying the courtyard as she responded.

"How long was I out?"

"Not too long, just for the night," the girl in the next cell said.

Caitlin sighed in relief. Momma Wolf had said yesterday that her inspector would be here to talk to her in twenty four hours and she didn't want to have missed him. She still hoped that she could explain her way out of this. She still couldn't remember anything past Hunter and her in the bedroom, but she knew that she couldn't have killed all those people that they said she did.

A sudden thought rammed its way into her head. If she was at Amanda's house, and there were seven people dead, was Amanda one of them.

"Do you get news here?" she asked through the open window.

"A little, why? You wondering what's up with the awards tonight?" the girl said, her voice almost dripping sarcasm.

"No. I need to know if they've said who died at that party."

There was a pause from the girl, and when she spoke again, there was something behind her words, cautious and wary, yet sad. "Are you that girl? The one they say killed all those people at the party?"

"Yeah," Caitlin said, finally letting herself realize it fully, "it's me. But I couldn't have done it. I was..."

She broke off. She was what? Upstairs? Then why did she wake up on the couch downstairs? Everything was all jumbled together and nothing made any sense in her head.

"Just, did they say who was killed?" Caitlin finally asked.

"What, you want the list?"

Caitlin sighed in frustration. "Well, did they say anything about Amanda Brighton?"

"Yeah, I think she was one of them," the girl said after she'd thought for a moment.

Caitlin's world heaved and she had to sit down as another wave of nausea swept over her. "No..." she whispered, more to herself than anything.

"You okay, new girl?" the voice called.

Caitlin couldn't speak for the tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe that her best friend, the cat she'd grown up with almost as sisters, was gone. She'd never again look into Amanda's smiling face, never be able to find her that perfect stuffed tiger every year. Even if she managed to get out of here, her life wouldn't ever be the same.

"You better talk to me, girl, or I'll call Momma Wolf again," the voice called again, this time a bit louder.

"Yeah," Caitlin said, choking back the lump in her throat. "I'm here."

"Good, didn't want to listen to you screaming again. Get enough of that from the girl down there."

Caitlin could only sit on the floor. She thought about getting up, but she knew that the only thing she'd see if she got up and started pacing was the girl in the white robe, a constant reminder of where she might be going and how this all might be ending. Instead, she just sat and hung her head between her knees, trying to think of a way, any way that she might be able to prove to the inspector when he came that she didn't do what they said she did.

She was still there when footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. She looked up as they stopped in front of her cell and she saw Orfeo standing there, watching her with a look that was almost sympathetic. After a moment, the door to her cell opened.

"Yard time, Kincaid. Come with me."

Orfeo didn't have her handcuffs in her hand, and when Caitlin got to the door, she realized that none of the other girls were restrained either. Apparently, once they'd been processed, they weren't as much of a risk and they were allowed to walk between the cells and the yard without needing to be cuffed.

Caitlin made her way slowly out of the cell and looked down the hallway to see it empty. She looked back at Orfeo and the question must have been clear in her eyes.

"Figured I'd walk you down today, Kincaid. You had kind of a rough night last night, and you didn't need them giving you hassles right off today," Orfeo said.

Caitlin didn't question the explanation, only nodded, and then followed Momma Wolf down the corridor and the stairs to the door she watched the guard coming out of the night before. Her original assumption was correct, and it was the one across from the office-like room.

She knew in the back of her mind that it hadn't been more than twenty four hours since she'd last been outside and seen the sun, but for some reason, the sun over the yard seemed overly bright when Orfeo opened the door to let her out into the yard. She paused at the threshold and let her eyes adjust, squinting into the bright light. She could barely make out the shapes of the picnic tables and the other girls, but soon enough her vision began to clear.

"You okay, Kincaid?" Orfeo asked.

Caitlin nodded and finally stepped out the doorway and into the yard. It didn't look all that different from what she'd seen through her window the night before, and her eyes unerringly settled on the center court with the girl tied to the post. She looked small from her cell on the second level, but from the ground, on the same level, the girl almost seemed even smaller. The way she sat, huddled into herself while she leaned against the pole didn't help the sight any, either.

Caitlin jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder and she spun around to find Orfeo looking at her, a mix of concern and sternness in her eyes.

"You're gonna give yourself another attack, Kincaid. Don't go focusing on the pole, okay?"

Caitlin nodded. She could already feel the lump rising in her throat and the tears starting behind her eyes and she tried to think about anything at all that might be able to take her mind off that pitiful figure.

"I saw you last night, Momma Wolf," she said. Her voice trembled with the effort to keep it even. "You were with the girl there."

Orfeo raised an eyebrow, but otherwise her expression didn't change. "Thought I saw you watching," she said.

"Why is she there, Momma Wolf?" Caitlin asked.

Orfeo sighed and took Caitlin by the arm to lead her to one of the metal benches that Caitlin had seen earlier when she'd been looking out over the courtyard. When she sat down next to Orfeo, the officer lowered her voice. "She's condemned, Kincaid. She killed three people."

"But what does that mean?" Caitlin asked, obviously confused.

"Don't you know your history, girl?" Orfeo asked, "Declaration of Universal Justice."

Caitlin frowned and thought back to her classes in high school. She could vaguely remember her history class and her civics class touching on the declaration, but she could only remember the one quote. As she thought a bit harder a few other details settled into her mind. The declaration had taken away an accused's right to a trial by jury; instead all trials happened in front of a magistrate.

Orfeo saw the comprehension in Caitlin's eyes and she nodded. "Yeah. What they don't tell you a lot of in school is that it also set the rules for people convicted of capital crimes, and that's it, there."

Orfeo gestured to the center yard as she spoke. "Since someone who's guilty of something that horrible is obviously beyond rehabilitation, the declaration says that they're no longer even considered a person. They're just a thing. And they live at the mercy of the state for one week. It was symbolic somewhere, but no one can remember just why it was seven days."

Caitlin listened attentively, eyes wide while she considered the implications that the lesson had for her own life in the very near future. If the girl there had killed three people and ended up there, what was going to happen to her if they decided that she'd been the one that killed seven? She really didn't want her mind going down that route, but strangely enough, staring at Momma Wolf's calm face it didn't seem to get to her as badly as it had the night before. She could still feel the gorge rising in her throat and her heart speeding up just a touch.

"But if she's not a person anymore and she's going to die, why were you taking care of her last night?"

Orfeo looked around the yard and then back to Caitlin and lowered her voice even further. "Kincaid, you're what? Eighteen? You haven't had enough time to figure out how things work." Orfeo frowned as she looked at the young cat, then continued, "Sometimes things aren't what they seem. People sometimes get caught up in things that they don't understand and they end up where they're not supposed to be."

There was significance in the look that she gave Caitlin as well as the tone in her voice when she spoke and Caitlin started to think back again to the night of the party and try as she might, she couldn't remember anything that even came close to what they all claimed she did. She didn't see anything in her mind's eye of any violence whatsoever, and she found it odd that she could remember so clearly being with Hunter but nothing after that.

She looked back up into Orfeo's gaze, "Who is she, Momma Wolf?"

"The condemned don't have names, Kincaid. They're not people, remember." She stood up and looked down at Caitlin. "Don't dwell on it, girl. You'll only make yourself sick."

She started to walk away but stopped and turned back around after a couple of steps. "Oh, and Inspector Corbett will be here this afternoon for your interview."

Caitlin nodded and watched as the wolf walked away towards the door. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes from wandering back to the center yard. From this angle, she was looking at the girl head on. The girl didn't look up and Caitlin had the suspicion that she didn't even realize any of the other girls were around her at all.

When she heard the door opening beside her, she first figured that it would be Orfeo going back into the building, but instead when she looked up, she saw the imposing bulk of Sinclair, her original tormentor at the hospital.

She let out a quiet squeak of surprise and fear and moved herself away on the bench, drawing his attention to her. He smiled maliciously as he recognized her and advanced on her one step after another, his large form looming over the scared tiger. Caitlin whimpered when she ran out of bench and landed with a soft thud on the concrete, and then crab-walked back up against the wall. The big wolf had a look in his eyes that started her body shaking even without realizing she was doing it.

"Hello, pretty pussy," Sinclair said through the leer on his face. "Been showing off those naked little lips for anyone yet?"

Caitlin couldn't think of anything to say, and she doubted that she'd be able to say anything, anyway. Her stomach felt like it was up in her throat and she could barely breathe, let alone speak. She just shook her head dumbly and looked up at the big wolf with her eyes wide.

Sinclair laughed down at her and stood there, hands on his hips, right hand so very close to the nightstick that was hanging off his belt. He was so focused on the terrified girl that he didn't hear Orfeo coming up behind him.

"Terrorizing one of my girls, Sinclair?" Orfeo asked in a cold, hard voice. "You know what the warden had to say about that the last time we had this talk."

Sinclair turned to face the other wolf and his lips drew back in a snarl. "What do you care, 'Momma Wolf,'" he sneered. The title he used dripped with sarcasm and contempt. "You're so lovey-dovey with these girls that they're never gonna learn what they need to." He chuckled darkly, "Well, I guess it don't matter for this one anyway. I'll see her soon enough."

He took another look down at Caitlin and gave her one of his most menacing, predatorial smiles. "Don't you worry, pretty pussy. You're gonna get your daddy wolf pretty soon."

Then with a laugh, he strode away to the cell block door.

Caitlin could only sit against the building, hugging her legs to herself while she shivered, even in the warm sunlight. Orfeo watched the big wolf walk back inside, and then sat next to Caitlin. She didn't try to comfort or coddle, just sat there and let her be. Finally Caitlin's shivering eased and she laid her head on her knees.

"You okay now, Kincaid?" Orfeo asked, looking down at her.

Caitlin shook her head and when she looked back up, she saw a look of concern in the older wolf's eyes. "I'm going to be in there, aren't I, Momma Wolf?"

Orfeo looked at the girl in the white robe in the center courtyard and then back to Caitlin. "I wish I could say no, Kincaid, but you're facing some pretty serious things." She sighed and leaned back against the building, turning her eyes back to the girl. "I ain't gonna lie and sugar coat it for you, girl. There's probably an even chance that you will. But you talk to your inspector and you tell him everything, girl. I mean everything. And when you're done, you tell it to him all over again.

"You tell him the truth, and all of it, and there's a chance that you'll get to go home again."

Orfeo looked down at Caitlin with a serious stare and Caitlin nodded. It really wasn't much, but it was something to cling onto, and she was grateful that Orfeo hadn't pulled any punches. At least she knew exactly what she was up against and a bit of an idea on what she had to do to keep from ending up there. She hoped that she'd be meeting with the inspector soon. Staring at the girl there against the pole was taking its toll on her.

Inspector Corbett walked through the station, badging himself through all the front doors until he got to his desk. He drew the bagged photo out of his pocket and tossed it onto the desk, then sat in the big chair to look it over.

Nothing had changed from the last time he'd looked at it. It was still a photo of his daughter outside her school, and there was still a number on the back of it. Sighing, he opened his bottom desk drawer and drew out the recording equipment for his phone. He hooked in all the connections, then double-checked them, and finally hooked the recorder to his computer and started up the recording software. After a minute or two, the computer was ready to record and transcribe the call.

He picked up the phone in one hand and the photo in the other, and carefully dialed the number left on the back, taking a deep breath as he pushed the final button. He toyed with the photo in the bag while he listened to the tone of the phone ringing. After three rings, there was a click and a voice on the other end. "Corbett?" it asked.

Corbett couldn't make out anything in the background and from the sound of the voice; it was an older male speaking. "This is Inspector Corbett. Who's this?" Might as well get the introductions out of the way.

The voice on the other end chuckled. "Did you really think that you'd get something on that recorder, Corbett? You think this is a game? Something you can win?"

Corbett frowned at the computer screen. The software was supposed to transcribe in real time, while the parties on the conversation were speaking, and nothing was appearing on the screen, just a blank white page with a blinking cursor in the upper left. The record button was on and all the settings were correct, but nothing was coming out the other end. "Who is this?" he demanded.

"No names, Corbett. Can we both agree that I have something you're very interested in? Namely the safety of someone quite close to you?"

"You leave my daughter alone, you sorry sack of-"

"Now, now, Corbett none of that, or something untoward might happen to someone." The voice laughed.

"What do you want?" Corbett asked.

"Right now, I want you to click the 'accept' button on your screen."

As the voice was speaking, a little box had appeared on Corbett's screen with the option to accept or cancel an incoming file transfer. He looked closer at the box, and recognized it as one of the boxes that popped up when the in-house computer nerds needed to put something on his computer while he was working. That meant it was an internal file transfer.

With a shaking hand, he reached out and clicked "accept." The computer hummed while it downloaded whatever it was, and when it was done, a grainy, jumpy video opened in a little window in the top right of his monitor. Corbett growled in shock as he recognized the living room in his house.

"What the hell-" he started.

"Keep watching, Inspector."

After a few seconds, the scene changed, from the living room to the kitchen. After another five seconds, it switched again. Then again, and again. Every time it switched scenes, it was showing a different portion of Corbett's home. His eyes narrowed and he had to restrain himself from slamming the phone down when a view of his daughter's bedroom appeared in the window.

"You sick fucks," Corbett growled.

"Language, Inspector," the voice chided. "I assume we have your attention, then?"

Corbett watched as the views recycled around back to his living room and he nodded, "Yeah, you've got it. What do you want?"

"I want you to come to 584 Riverview. You're going to come alone, in your personal vehicle, without any electronics. I don't care what you do with all your things. Leave them in the office, throw them out on the road, but when you get there, you're not going to have so much as a digital watch on you. Then you're going to get out of your car and wait."

"I can't just leave my things here at the office; people will be trying to get ahold of me. I'm working a case."

"The case is on hold for the next couple hours, Inspector. You're going to want to hear what we have to say. And besides, I don't think your boss is going to have a problem with it." The voice chuckled again.

Corbett started to say something into the phone, then realized that the click that he'd just heard had been the other side hanging up. He held the receiver in his hand, as if he was unsure of what to do with it. He looked up at the monitor, still holding it to his ear. The counter that showed how long the call had been and how much of it had been recorded was still at 00:00. The software hadn't worked at all and he'd gotten absolutely nothing that he could take anywhere.

Finally, he looked at the receiver as if it was the first time that he'd seen it and then laid it gently on the base. Still not willing to accept that he'd gotten nothing from the call, he pushed the play button on his screen. Nothing happened, and he clicked it again, this time harder and with a growl of frustration. Still nothing.

Sighing, he stood up and opened the drawer to his desk. They'd told him to come alone right now, and they said that his boss wouldn't have a problem with it. How high up did all this go?

With shaking hands, he emptied his pockets into the drawer. He kept his keys, his gun and his badge, but from what he saw on the screen, there was no way that he wanted to make these people angry. They had a camera in his daughter's room for heaven's sake. If they could get into his home to put cameras there, then they could get in to do other things, too.

He finally took his watch off and tossed it in the drawer with the rest of his electronics. He felt naked without his tablet in its holder just inside his jacket. There were rarely times that an inspector was without it, since it offered a real-time interface to the central computer and relayed all the relevant facts of the case to the person in the field. It also served as a GPS point for when an officer was out. If anything went wrong, the station would have an exact location on the tablet and they'd be able to send help. It also let dispatch and the supervisors keep an eye on the new guys, and the old guys if they really wanted.

He'd be going into this meeting with nothing that would let anyone know where he was if anything went hinky. Finally deciding that he could at least risk a little bit, he pulled a sticky note from his other drawer and scrawled a quick note.

"Went to sketchy meeting at 584 Riverview," he wrote on the paper. Then he opened the drawer and laid the note on top of his digital life. Then he closed and locked the drawer, knowing full well that the higher-ups had the master key. If anything happened to him, they'd be able to get into his desk and that's the first thing they'd see.

Having done what he could from where he was, he took the lift down to his car and drove himself to the address. When he got there, all he saw was a driveway leading up to a condemned house that was falling in on itself. A dying oak tree lay half-uprooted in the yard. All the windows in the house had been broken and through the hole where the front door used to be Corbett could make out graffiti on the walls of the living room.

His drive had taken him all the way across town, over the tracks and under the overpasses. This was the worst part of town for anyone to be in, and he felt overexposed sitting here in his car. He didn't even have the comfort of a police radio in the vehicle with him, having taken his own personal car. Whoever put this whole thing together, they didn't want anyone tracking where he was.

He took another minute to look up and down the street, seeking something familiar, maybe someone he knew or something to put this all in perspective. Unfortunately, there was nothing there. The street was abandoned without even the usual pedestrian traffic that would have gone along with this part of town.

Corbett drew his handgun from its holster and released the magazine, checking to ensure that it was loaded and ready, and when he slid it home, he drew the slide back to chamber a round. He didn't like the way this was going, and he wanted to be ready in case things went south. Then he slid the handgun back into the leather holster and opened the door. When the door opened, he could hear a faint ringing coming from inside the house.

He frowned at the gaping hole in the wall and got out of the car, closing the door behind him. He made the quick decision to keep the door unlocked. There wasn't anyone out on the street to worry about, anyway, and should he need to, he'd be able to get back in and get away quickly. Still hesitant, he walked to the very threshold of the door and listened again. The ringing had stopped, but after a second or two passed, it started up again. It wasn't a house phone, it was definitely a cell. He took a tentative step into the house and down the hallway to the right. The graffiti on the wall was vulgar and offensive and whoever had painted it had no love for the police.

The thoughts about who had painted the graffiti and why they'd done it helped to keep his mind from what was going on, and it kept him from dwelling too much on the fact that at this very moment, there was some thug watching his daughter at school, waiting for her to come back out the doors. It wasn't a long walk to the kitchen in the old abandoned house, and when he got there he saw a simple, black cell phone sitting on the counter, ringing a generic ring.

For once, someone finally programmed a cell phone to ring like a damn phone, he thought to himself as he stood in the kitchen doorway, debating answering it. While he stood, the phone stopped ringing and his heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was someone around that was watching him and they'd decided he wasn't going to be answering, so it was time to move on with something else. He crossed to the counter in just a few hurried steps and scooped up the phone.

The caller ID on the screen just had a bunch of zeros on it, no identifying information about who had called. He stared dumbly at the phone, willing it to ring again, hating that he's making himself a slave to whoever was on the other end of the line. He couldn't suppress the instinct to be a cop and figure out what was going on, but the father and family-man part of him could overrule that without any thought whatsoever.

He nearly dropped the phone in surprise when it started ringing in his hands again, and he looked at the screen. Again it was nothing but zeros, with no name or any other information. He took a breath to steady his voice and pushed the answer button, then held the phone to his ear.

"I'm here, now what?" he said. His words echoed in the empty kitchen.

"Very good, inspector. Now, I want you to walk to the window there in front of you and lift your shirt." The voice on the phone was the same one that had been on the other end of the line in the office.

"I'm not wearing a wire," Corbett said, but he moved to the window anyway and with his free hand lifted up his shirt to show his bare chest. Then the turned and did it again for his back.

"I'm sure you understand, Inspector," the voice said with an amused tone. "It's not like we're doing anything legal here, and we wouldn't want a law-abiding person such as yourself to get the idea that we need to get caught."

"Whatever," Corbett said, "I just want my family safe."

"That's good," the voice on the other end said with a chuckle. "I tell people all the time that you can make anyone see your point of view, you just have to give them the proper motivation."

Corbett stood in at the window for another moment then let his shirt drop back down.

"All right, are you happy?" he asked.

"Very," the voice answered. "Now, take the phone with you and walk out the back door. You'll find a garage across the yard. That's where you're going."

There was a click on the line, then silence. Corbett took the phone away from his ear and looked at the flashing 'call duration' indicator on the screen. Then he pressed the end button on the phone and slipped it into his pocket, almost on top of where his tablet would be if he still had it on him.

He looked around the kitchen again and saw a sliding glass door, or rather the frame of one, the glass was shattered all over the floor and the ground outside. Stepping through the door, he found himself in the middle of an unkempt back yard, looking out at a ramshackle old garage. It looked worn down and like it was going to fall over at any time. Peeling dark brown paint hung in flakes to the rotting wood. On the side of the building facing him, there was a door that at one time had a hasp lock on it, but it had long since rotted to the point that the lock was just there for show, and as Corbett stepped closer, it looked like it had been broken apart quite recently. The hasp hung limply from the door with the rusted lock still attached.

He pushed open the door and stared into the gloom. The garage didn't look all that large from the outside, maybe big enough to hold a car and some stuff, and there was no light at all coming from inside. After a moment, his eyes adjusted and he saw the telltale shine of a car's paint inside. He could make out the trim that he knew belonged to one of the expensive sedans that the well-to-do used. Oddly enough, the police force had a few of them in the fleet for the captains and the chiefs to use.

He took a step through the door and found the back door of the car open and waiting for him. He hesitated for a moment, looking back the way he came, out at the dying grass in the yard, then back at the open car door. There was some sort of finality about getting in to the car as if he would never be able to take back what he was doing.

With another breath, he slid into the back seat of the car. Inside, he found himself sitting next to a large badger in a black suit. The badger had eyes that made him think of all the killers that he'd locked up in his time as an inspector. There were some who had the crazy eyes, and who he knew weren't seeing the world in the same way he did. But there were others that he could look into their eyes and he knew, without a doubt, that they saw the same things that he did, but they didn't care about morality and about society and about good or evil. There was a surety in the look and a complete lack of emotion. Wild wolves had the look that this badger did. He could kill Corbett and not even blink, but it wasn't the look that said he was hungry for it; just that he would do what was necessary and not think twice.

All that was communicated in a second's glance and Corbett pulled his eyes away from the badger to look across the compartment at the wolf sitting across from him. He was an older wolf, and the grey showed plainly in his fur. He held himself with dignity and pride, even in the seat of the car, and his deep green eyes were shrewd and calculating. There was a small, spiteful smile on his face as he regarded Corbett. For some reason, the inspector had the feeling of being a bug under a microscope. Something interesting, but not consequential.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Corbett had to restrain himself from actually exclaiming when he recognized the wolf. He'd seen the face on too many late night news shows, and at too many fundraising parties. In fact, the inspector had danced with the wolf's wife at the last public safety dinner last month.

"Senator Lewis," Corbett said.

"Inspector Corbett," Lewis responded. "It's so good to see you again." The wolf's face lit in a predatory grin and he leaned forward to lay his folded arms on his knees, bringing his muzzle closer to Corbett's. "How is your wife? Jennifer, if I remember correctly?"

Corbett balked at the mention of his wife's name and tried to swallow back the bile that threatened to fill his mouth. "Obviously, you'd know how she is, you've got cameras in our house."

Lewis grinned even wider. "Yes," he said, "distasteful business, that." The he chuckled menacingly. "Although I have to admit that I've rather enjoyed watching her around the house. She's such a lovely young pup." The senator watched the inspector's face as he taunted him.

Corbett could barely contain the anger that boiled up inside at the admission that this senator had been watching him and his wife, and his fists clenched against his thighs. "Even if you are a Senator, Lewis, you're still a sleaze."

"Say what you will, Richard," Lewis said, waving his hand dismissively at the comment, "but sometimes I have to resort to measures that not everyone likes or agrees with."

"Just tell me what you want, Lewis," Corbett interjected.

"I have a little bit of a problem," Lewis said. "I'm sure you feel for your family the same way that I feel for mine, and you'd do about anything for them, am I right?"

Corbett frowned and nodded. The bastard had to know that was true otherwise he wouldn't be here listening to this. "Yeah, and you got my attention by threatening mine, so what's this got to do with Jennifer and Angela?"

"You're working a case that's very close to my family, Corbett, and I want you to assure me that you'll find exactly what I need you to find."

"You mean the Kincaid case, don't you?" Corbett asked, thinking back to his conversation with the pathologist from the hospital. "You send your goons to tamper with the evidence. What did you have on the doc, huh? You do him a favor and now he owes you?"

"Something like that. My boys found him in bed with his babysitter and we agreed not to make certain people aware of his proclivities towards young teenage girls." Lewis laughed darkly, "And now I see that the investment was well worth my time."

"You're a sick fuck, Lewis. What do you want with me?" Corbett demanded.

"It must be getting clearer by now, Inspector." Lewis said, his voice dripping with contempt. "I know that you've already spoken to the dear doctor, so I know he told you what the actual findings were in Kincaid's examination."

Corbett nodded, "Yeah, he told me that before you sent your muscle after him that he found rufies in her system, not C. I'm guessing that there's no way she could have been the one who killed the kids, since she was drugged senseless at the time."

"You're getting there, Corbett," Lewis said. "Now, I want you to take the lab reports that were given to you. My boys here ensured that there aren't any more copies of the one he was trying to tell you about, so the only record is the 'official' one that he signed. You accept that one as the real deal and you stop digging." Lewis smiled; it was the smile that won him elections. "Caitlin Kincaid killed the kids at the party and you've got the right person in custody. You need to make that stick."

"You want me to lie for you?" Corbett asked, and suddenly things started to make sense in his mind. "Your kid was there, too, right? Hunter?" The pieces fell into place in Corbett's head as he continued to think about it. "Hunter's the perp, isn't he?"

Lewis leaned forward with a snarl on his face, "Hunter is my son, and as far as you're concerned, Corbett, he left the party well before anything happened there, understand?"

Corbett stared at the senator for a time and shook his head. "I can't let an innocent girl go in front of the magistrate, Lewis. They're planning on condemning her."

"Let me tell you what's going to happen, Corbett," Lewis snarled again, "You're going to go in there with the evidence that you've got and you're not going to go sticking your nose anywhere else. You're going to make damn sure that they DO condemn that girl."

He leaned forward a little more until his nose was mere inches from Corbett's. "If any of that's unclear, Richard, then let me tell you what's going to happen if they start looking into my son. My boys are going to find your daughter, and you know they know where she is, and they're going to take her someplace that you'll never find her. Then they're going to give you a link like they did today, and they're going to let you watch while the pull her eyes out with their claws. Then they're going to make her scream into the camera while they make a woman out of her just before they string her entrails up around the room in a house like this."

Corbett could smell the light tinge of alcohol on the senator's breath as he spoke and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pull his eyes from Lewis'.

"The last words you will ever hear from your daughter will be her screaming and crying out for her daddy to save her while my boys pull her apart, and the last view of her that you'll ever have will be her shining, dripping intestines hanging from an old chandelier while her eyeless face stares at you from the kitchen counter. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Richard?"

All the moisture had evaporated from Corbett's mouth and his heart beat fast against his chest. He had to restrain himself from reaching up to the senator's neck, so close and inviting, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere near far enough before the big badger next to him stopped him. Given the imagination shown in the threat that he'd just made, he didn't want to know what the senator had in store for him or his family if he tried to kill him in the back seat of the car here.

He swallowed a couple of times, trying to dampen his tongue once again while he stared into the wolf's eyes. He nodded while he swallowed and when he could speak again, he said, "Perfectly, Senator."

"Good," Lewis said, then sat back against the seat, leaving a trace scent of cologne and scotch on the air between the seats. "Now, one of my boys is making sure that your wife gets to where she needs to be today, given that her car has had some unexpected mechanical troubles."

"You leave my wife out of this, Lewis," Corbett said. "I'll do what you want, you just leave her alone."

"Don't worry, Richard. Your chief was kind enough to provide her with a car and a driver, courtesy of the police department. Just until her car gets fixed, you understand." Lewis laughed, "It might take about, oh, nine days or so to get it fixed. Just long enough that we can make sure everything goes through without a hitch."

"You are an evil, malicious bastard, Lewis," Corbett said.

"And you'd do well to remember that, Corbett," Lewis responded. "The system is broken, Inspector, and the only ones who survive are the ones who can work it to their own ends...and those who go along with it. You can survive... or not, your choice."

The badger reached over Corbett and opened the door.

"Give my regards to your captain, inspector, and remember that we're watching you."

Corbett felt sick as he got himself out of the car. The door closed behind him and the car started, then edged forward until the nose had nudged open the garage doors, then it pulled quietly out of the rotting building and drove down the road. He watched it roll away and finally turned and walked off the yard and around the side of the house to get back into his own car.

Sitting in the hot interior of the car, Corbett couldn't even raise his eyes to the mirror, and he debated starting the car or leaning his head out of the door to vomit. He was saving his family, but it still felt that he was selling his soul.

Through the time that she was outside in the yard, Caitlin kept seeing Orfeo every time she looked around, and she couldn't shake the thought that the guard was watching her, or perhaps watching out for her. The other girls didn't seem to want to have anything to do with her, and that was okay with her. Looking at them and watching them in their recreation time, she had just one thought, I don't belong here.

All the other girls were making the best of their time in the yard and Caitlin was left mostly alone on her bench up against the wall. She tried not to stare at the girl in the center courtyard, but her eyes kept being drawn back to her and eventually, she stood up from her bench and made her way across the concrete to the fence. She stood there staring at the girl, trying to make up her mind what she should do, or what she should say.

Finally, she knelt down on the concrete and interlaced her fingers into the chain link of the fence. The girl didn't stir, and didn't even seem to notice her presence.

"Hello," Caitlin said in a quiet and tentative voice.

The girl didn't move, and gave no sign of life except for the rising and the falling of her chest.

"Leave her alone, girl," Orfeo said, her voice coming from right behind Caitlin.

Caitlin jumped and scrambled to her feet, spinning around to face the guard. "I- I just-"

"Look Kincaid," Orfeo said, "the girl's got enough going on that she doesn't need you pestering her."

As she spoke, Orfeo's eyes looked over Caitlin to the girl and she closed her eyes, hiding a very quick look of pain that flashed across her face. Caitlin barely had time to register that the look was there before it was gone.

"Yard time's over, anyway."

Caitlin looked around Orfeo and saw the other girls filing back in through the door, and through the windows on the first floor, she saw them being let back into their cells. She nodded and started to walk to the door, side by side with Orfeo.

"You're not going back to your cell right now, Kincaid. Your inspector is here to see you, so I'll take you to the interview room."

Caitlin merely nodded, then followed Orfeo through the door and then back across the hall to the office room where she'd been processed the night before. Instead of going to the showers, though, Orfeo opened a door on the side wall and ushered her through it. On the other side was a hallway with two sets of heavy metal doors on either side. Everything from the floor to the ceiling to the cinderblock walls was painted a dull, industrial blue.

Orfeo stopped in front of the first door and pulled a key ring off her belt, and then she unlocked the door and opened it. Inside Caitlin could see a plain metal table and two chairs. All of the furniture was bolted securely to the floor. In one wall was a large mirror, and from the television she watched, she knew that it was one-way glass and that there would be others on the other side of the glass watching her interview.

"Go on in, girl," Orfeo said and gently pushed her through the door. "Corbett will be in after a few."

The door shut firmly behind her and Caitlin heard the lock sliding home. Obviously, they weren't worried about her walking around the room or trying anything with the furniture all secured the way it was, and she took advantage of the little time that she had to walk. The room was thrice the size of her cell, and it was nice to merely walk around a little more than she'd been able to the day and night before.

It was more than a few minutes that she walked around before the door finally unlocked and an unfamiliar wolf walked through. He was taller than Caitlin, and there were touches of grey starting around his muzzle, and though he looked older, he didn't strike her as 'old.' But the circles under his eyes gave her the impression that he was more wizened than she first thought.

He stopped inside the door and waited for it to close and lock behind him, then he walked to the side of the table that put his back to the glass and held out his hand to the other chair, obviously inviting her to sit.

Caitlin figured that the request was more a demand, and she obeyed immediately, walking from the far corner of the room where she had stopped in her circuits of pacing to sit in the chair on the far side of the table from the older wolf.

"Miss Caitlin Kincaid," the wolf said in the same tone of voice that Orfeo had used the night before, a tone that implied business and seriousness, but was still the rote memorized speech that he had to have given hundreds of times before. Caitlin sat quietly and waited for him to continue.

"My name is Richard Corbett, and I am the investigator assigned to your case. You are here because you have been accused of seven counts of murder. The events leading to these charges occurred on or about the eighth day of August of this year. I have begun my preliminary investigation and I have found that the evidence supports these charges. Therefore, you will continue to be held in this facility for the duration of the investigation and the subsequent trial."

Caitlin's heart leapt into her throat at the pronouncement that there was enough evidence to actually keep her here. She had hoped that the inspector would come in and tell her that everything was going to be okay, and that they'd found the person who had actually done the killing. But no, he still thought it was her. Dumbfounded, she tried to speak and deny, but no sound came from her throat, and the wolf was continuing.

"You have been advised by Corrections Officer Orfeo that you have the right to remain silent and not to answer any questions during today's interview. You have also been informed that your refusal to answer questions, should you choose to exercise that right, will be noted and could be used against you in any hearing or trial that shall be ordered by the magistrate. Do you understand, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin could only nod. Her head felt heavy and she could feel the return of her panting breathing that she'd started the night before and she focused, trying to slow it down. It wouldn't be in her best interest to pass out while she was talking to the inspector, because she didn't know if she'd have the chance to meet with him again after today. After a monumental effort, she managed to calm herself to the point that she could listen to him once again.

Corbett saw the difficulty the cat was having, and he paused to wait for her to get control of herself. He wanted to reach out and sweep the poor girl into a hug and tell her everything was going to be all right, and that he knew that she wasn't the one who killed the people, but images of his wife and daughter as part of a crime scene investigation invaded his mind and kept him rooted to the spot where he stood with a stony expression on his face.

"Very well," Corbett said after he saw that she was calming again. "I am here to ask you questions about the night in question. I expect that any answer you provide will be the truth, and any attempt at prevarication - lying - will be entered into your record for consideration at any trial or hearing."

Corbett sat down in the chair opposite Caitlin and pulled out his tablet, then spent a minute searching through the case file. He knew the contents of the file by heart, but he looks through them again, anyway, grasping for any way, any way at all, that he could find a gap in the evidence, or possibly something that he hadn't seen before right now that would allow him to let the girl go without compromising his word to Senator Lewis. If he could find a technicality or something missing or a question that left doubt in a magistrate's mind, then he wouldn't really be at fault if they found her not guilty.

Meanwhile, Caitlin watched the inspector with a growing anxiety. The longer he looked at the case file, the more and more her breathing started to increase until by the time he put the tablet down, she was almost in tears and trembling violently in the chair.

Corbett looked up from his tablet at the terrified cat sitting across from him and he sighed, and then set the tablet down on the table. "Relax, Kincaid. Nothing's going to happen here except me asking you some questions. All you have to do is answer them honestly, okay?"

Caitlin nodded and tried to still the shaking of her body. She had mixed success, managing to still the tremors, but she could feel them behind her skin ready to start back up at any moment.

"All right," Corbett said and looked down at his tablet again. "Where were you on the night in question, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin blinked at the absurdity of the question. They knew where she was, or she wouldn't be in all this mess, but he'd said that she should answer his questions, and even Momma Wolf had told her that everything would go better if she did as she was told. "I was at my friend, Amanda's house. It was her birthday party."

Corbett nodded, looking down to his tablet again. "Can you tell me what happened at the party?"

Caitlin thought back and tried to remember everything. She started at the beginning, hoping that something would jog her memory about the night. She told Corbett about pulling up to the house, the music and all the cars in the yard, then about the gift that she bought for her friend. "I was excited because the truck on the sweater matched the pink truck her parents got her."

Corbett listened while she spoke and took notes on his tablet when she said something that he found interesting or important, but he remained silent, letting her tell the story.

Caitlin continued, describing the party. She didn't really want to get anyone in trouble, but she mentioned the alcohol and that she'd had a couple bottles of cider at the party. There was Josh as the DJ and the other friends that she'd run into while she was working around the party. Then she got to Hunter, and her story stopped for a minute.

"Everything was really normal until I ran into Hunter. After a while, things start to get really fuzzy, and then I don't remember anything." She shivered in her chair, blushing at the memory that she does have. Momma Wolf had told her that she needed to tell him everything, but she hesitated a little about that little detail, but then she took a breath and went ahead anyway.

"Hunter and I went upstairs to the spare bedroom. Amanda let me keep some of my stuff in the closet there for when I slept over, that way I always had some of my things, even if it was a spur of the moment thing. We..." Caitlin blushed at the memory, "I mean...I think we...had sex."

Corbett made a note on his tablet. The results from the pathologist were on his screen and he looked at the big block letters that were scrawled across her rape kit results. INCONCLUSIVE, they said in large red type in almost all the blanks. The only thing that was certain was that Kincaid did have sex that night and it was likely consensual. At least now he could fill in a couple of the blanks legitimately.

Perhaps, now that she'd said who she was with, he had enough evidence that Hunter was at the party that he could at least get an interview with the kid and try to get a confession out of him. The senator couldn't hold it against him for covering all the bases. Well, maybe he could, but it was an avenue that was worth exploring a little, anyway. Corbett was desperate to find anyway that he could put enough doubt on the case that the magistrate would have to dismiss it, but he had to do it with enough cover that it wouldn't lead back to him.

"What happened after that, Miss Kincaid?" Corbett asked, his voice carefully neutral. He didn't look up as he asked the question, and he tapped a few options on his pad that told it not to upload his current notes to the server. He didn't need Lewis' goons going through his files and finding something official that linked the Lewis kid back to the crime, so for now, he'd just let it sit on his tablet and upload it later when he got the chance.

"I don't remember, sir," Caitlin answered honestly. "Everything goes black after that and the next thing that I remember is waking up on the couch just before the police came." She shivered again at the memory of waking up and looking at a room full of bodies that used to be her friends. "I don't remember much after that, either, sir. I was really scared."

Corbett nodded and made another note on his tablet. "So you don't remember anything?" He was hoping that she'd remember even little flashes; something that could help him at least cast some doubt on her case. "Even the littlest thing could help, Miss Kincaid."

Caitlin shook her head and looked down at her feet. She tried even harder to push past that black veil that descended across her memory, but nothing that she could do would lift it. There was nothing there that she could remember. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't remember anything."

Corbett sighed and moved on, "Do you use C, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin frowned and shook her head. "I don't do drugs, sir," she said with a firm finality in her voice. "Never have and I never will. I've got a full-ride scholarship, and my parents can't afford to pay for my college, so I 'd never do anything that would endanger that."

Corbett frowned, looking at the tox screen on his tablet. He knew it was false, but the doctor had signed it, and the report showed that she had C in her system.

"You've never even tried some?"

Caitlin shook her head firmly again. "No, sir," she said, "not once."

"Any idea, then, why the blood test that they did at the hospital showed that you had it in your system?" He hated asking that question, but if he hadn't, someone would have pointed out that he missed something huge.

"No sir," she said. The wide eyes on her face told him that she was as surprised as she should have been about the revelation. Caitlin thought back over the night, trying to remember if anyone had given her anything or if she'd taken anything, but she hadn't even had a headache, so she didn't even take any aspirin.

Then another thought appeared in the back of her mind. "Hunter," she whispered.

"What's that, Miss Kincaid?" Corbett said as he looked up from the tablet.

"Hunter went to get me another cider. Things didn't start to go blank until after that. Could he have put something in the drink?" she asked.

"Did you go with him to get the drink?" Corbett asked.

Caitlin shook her head. "No, sir. I was on the couch listening to some music that was playing and he went to get me a refill. When he came back, the top was already off and everything."

Corbett put his elbows on the table and leaned over his arms a little, focusing on the girl across from him. "When was this, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin thought back, "Well, it was dark out and I'd gotten there at about six, so it must have been after nine or so, sir."

Corbett looked down between his arms at his tablet and checked his timeline. The Lewis kid must have ruffied Kincaid around nine, and then done whatever it was that he'd done. The best bet was that Hunter had been the one doing the C once Kincaid had passed out. That was probably what the Riley kid was so hesitant to admit.

"Do you know if Hunter did drugs, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin shook her head and frowned. "No, sir. I don't think he did, but we broke up a few weeks before the party."

"Why did you and Mister Lewis separate?" Corbett asked.

"I don't know," Caitlin said. "There was always something a little off about him. He was nice enough and he treated me okay, but every time I was around him towards the end, he was really strange, and I just didn't really feel safe around him."

"Do you think that he might have started using drugs, specifically C, without you knowing about it, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin shook her head, then looked up in surprise when the door was unlocked and a guard that she'd never seen before walked in. He was another big male wolf, but the look about him spoke of more professionalism than any of the other male guards that she'd seen.

"Inspector Corbett," the guard said, "you have a telephone call."

Corbett sighed and picked up his tablet. "I'll be right back, Miss Kincaid," he said with an apologetic look on his face. Then he stood and followed the other officer out the door.

The officer closed and locked the door behind him and then guided the inspector to the next room and closed the door. Inside was the same badger that he'd been sitting next to in Lewis' car earlier in the day. The badger was sitting up against the windowsill with the same dead look in his eye that he had earlier.

"Remember, Corbett," the badger said menacingly, "Mister Lewis doesn't want you looking into his kid. This whole thing needs to go away now."

The badger reached in to his pocket and pulled out a plain white envelope and handed it to Corbett. "Maybe this will give you a bit more incentive."

Corbett took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a tight stack of green bills, all of them large denominations. He looked up at the badger, his face tinged red at his anger, and then threw the envelope back at the large male. "I don't need your damned money."

The badger just laughed. "I told Lewis that you wouldn't like the offer, but he insisted." The badger handed over a tablet with something on the screen. "Figured you'd do much better with this kind of incentive."

Corbett took the tablet and looked at the screen. It was a live feed looking from the visor of a car into the back seat. He could make out a large male wolf sitting in the front seat of the car, looking like he was paying attention to the road, and there, in the back seat opposite the driver, sat his wife, looking out the window with a pleasant, innocent smile on her face. The driver was in a police uniform and sunglasses.

Corbett could barely speak for the shaking in his shoulders as he tried to restrain himself. If they'd have let him keep his weapon, he might not have been so judicious, but as it was, he couldn't shoot the bastard right here in the middle of the prison, so all he could do was hand the tablet back.

"Thought that might do the trick, inspector." The badger laughed and put the tablet back under his jacket. "You can keep the money, too, though. Take your wife out on a vacation when this is all done."

The big badger looked at the prison guard and pulled a large bill from his pocket, then slipped it into the guard's front pocket, and then, still laughing, opened the door and walked out, closing the door to the room firmly behind him.

Corbett stared after him and finally his eyes caught the look on the guard's face. The guard balked and lowered his head. "I'm sorry, inspector. I've got a family, too."

Corbett didn't need any more explanation of why the guard hadn't done anything, and he knew that the young wolf wouldn't say anything to support any claims that Corbett might make. Without checking the logs, he also knew that there was likely nothing on the security tapes, so anything that he could say would only be his word against a Senator's.

He stood there in the semi-dark of the room and looked through the glass at the young girl still sitting at the table. He watched her lip tremble and her wide eyes looking around the room before falling back to her lap. "What the hell are we doing?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"The only thing we can do, Inspector," the guard answered sadly.

Corbett continued to watch through the glass, his head swimming with ideas and schemes, but every time he landed on one that he thought would work, he saw his daughter's face looking back at him in the reflection of the glass.

"She's someone's daughter, too," he said. "I can't let them do this."

"If you don't, Inspector, they'll put you out of the picture and find someone that will."

Corbett took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest. There wasn't any way around doing what he had to do. Either choice landed him right in a place where he knew he couldn't forgive himself. If he let this happen and let this girl get condemned, he wouldn't be able to live with himself or look himself in the mirror ever again, but if he didn't, Lewis' goons would do worse to his family, and he didn't know if he could survive either of those options.

He stayed there and looked through the glass for a minute more, then bowed his head and walked out the door and back around to the interview room. Before he walked in, he lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and wiped all traces of the feelings from his body, then he opened the door and strode back to his chair on the other side of the table.

Caitlin watched him walk back in, curiosity on her face, but she was much too nervous to ask what the phone call was or if it was about her. The older wolf didn't seem to be in much of an explaining mood, so she just waited, heart still beating hard in her chest.

"Is there anything else that you might be able to tell me about the party, Miss Kincaid?" Corbett asked, and Caitlin noticed that there was something new in his voice, a note of resignation, as if he didn't really care about the answer and he was just asking it for the sake of some report.

"No, sir," she answered. "I told you everything I can remember." She leaned over the desk and her eyes widened as she continued. "But I didn't kill anyone," she said frantically. "Amanda was my best friend, and I'd never hurt her, not for anything." Her voice was rising in her fear, "I would have died to save Amanda, Inspector. And I'd have killed myself before I killed her."

Corbett couldn't take watching the girl's face across the table from him with her eyes so wide and the fear and shame so prevalent on her face. He had to bow his head and look away from those eyes, and he collected his tablet and then stood.

"All right, Miss Kincaid," he said as he stood. "I've got everything I need. Your hearing will be in two days' time, I believe. Officer Orfeo will ensure that you are advised of the time and date."

And with that, he turned and headed for the door. He didn't have to knock, no one had locked it after he'd gone back in. Behind him, Caitlin shuddered and sobbed in the hard metal chair, watching his retreating back, trying to think of something, anything that she could do to make him realize that it hadn't been her and that she didn't belong here.

But she still couldn't remember anything, and all she could do was curl herself up in the chair and sob.

___________________________

Caitlin had cried herself out by the time Orfeo came to take her back to her cell, and the older wolf said nothing about it, merely helped her gruffly to her feet as always with an arm around her shoulders, then led her back to her small cell.

Caitlin sat on the bunk and looked across the small expanse to the cinderblock wall, not even trying to start talking with the girl in the next cell, just wanting to sit and be alone. Rising sounds drew her attention to the window. She didn't want to look back out at the pathetic figure in the white robe again, though, and she tried to ignore them at first, but they continued.

Voices at first, and then mechanical noises began to filter in through the open window. Finally, curiosity overcame her and she stood and walked to the window. Looking down over the courtyard, she could see six wolves in immaculate police dress uniforms. Five of them had rifles that were stripped down on one of the picnic tables, and they were talking amongst themselves while they cleaned the pieces. Every now and again, one would pick up a piece, wipe it down, scrub it a little with a small brush, and then wipe it down again. Caitlin could see the sunlight reflecting off the gleaming metal of the rifle parts.

The sixth wolf she recognized immediately. Sinclair stood away from the table by the gate to the middle courtyard. He had no rifle, but buckled along his side was a long sword in a scabbard. As with the rifle parts, Caitlin could see the sunlight sparkling off the hilt of the sword, and she could tell that it had been polished to perfection. It was a simple sword, the kind that she'd seen in old history books that the soldiers in wars past had worn while they rode on horseback into battle, and it looked anachronistic against the black police dress uniform. Something that shouldn't belong where it was.

Sinclair stood still, leering into the center courtyard at the girl in the white robe. The girl didn't move, didn't look, but when Caitlin squinted and focused all the way onto her small form, she could see the fabric of the robe moving, and she could tell that the poor girl was shaking badly.

A sound drew her attention back to the picnic table and she watched the other wolves reassembling their rifles. The sounds of the mechanical things going back together and then the bolts working in the chambers started her shivering as well.

Then the door to the prison opened and Orfeo walked out with her little medical box. She strode right up to Sinclair. The big wolf had turned when he heard the door open, and Caitlin could see his leer even from her little window. Orfeo didn't give him a moment's pause, just walked right up to him and stared him in the face until he moved out of her way. Caitlin couldn't help but feel a little bit of respect and gratitude for Momma Wolf when she watched the way that she handled Sinclair.

Orfeo walked through the gate to the middle courtyard and closed the door behind her, and Sinclair went back to talking with the other five wolves at the picnic table. Caitlin watched as Sinclair set the box down on the grass, and then opened it and rummaged around inside before she came back out with a stethoscope and holding something else in her hand.

She crossed the grass to the girl and laid her hand on her shoulder. This time, the girl didn't move at all, she just sat there breathing. Orfeo parted the front of the white robe and gently placed the head of the stethoscope on the girl's chest. While she was listening, she leaned in and Caitlin could see her lips moving in a whisper to the girl's ear. While she was speaking, her other hand moved to the girl's mouth and Caitlin could just barely see the girl open her muzzle and take something from Orfeo's hand, and then she started chewing. Weak little movements of her mouth, but she managed whatever it was that she was given and then swallowed.

Caitlin could see the small, sad little smile that Orfeo have the girl before she stood up and put the stethoscope back in the box. Then she closed everything up and walked back out of the courtyard, stopping to only nod at Sinclair, and then she walked back through the door, not looking back and Caitlin could see the determination in her stride.

Sinclair reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets and put them on the picnic table. Every guard took one and slid it into the chamber of his weapon. The youngest wolf looked pale. His hands shook as he tried to put the round in the chamber, and he ended up fumbling it and it rang off the metal table before it hit the dirt.

Sinclair turned sharply, then took two steps to bring him right up in front of the young guard. The guard stood up and stiffened to attention with his rifle at his side and said something that Caitlin couldn't make out. Sinclair reached back and drew his hand sharply against the guard's face in a vicious backhand slap, sending the young wolf reeling back off his feet and onto his backside.

Sinclair stood there as if nothing had happened while the young guard collected himself off the ground, and then returned to where he was standing. Sinclair said something else to him and then walked back to the gate. The guard, meanwhile, stooped under the table and collected his dropped bullet and this time managed to get it into the chamber without dropping it.

Preparations finished, the wolves lined up behind Sinclair at the gate to the center courtyard, stiffly at attention with their weapons tight at their sides.

Sinclair opened the door the central courtyard and stepped through in a march, leaving the gate open for the rest of them to follow. The young guard who'd dropped his bullet was the last one through, and he left the gate hanging open behind him.

Sinclair marched the group around to the far side of the central courtyard, and then halted and with a sharp command, the six wolves turned precisely to face the center. Then Sinclair took two steps forward, and then turned and marched to the center of the group. Stationed there, he turned again to face the five armed wolves. With a precision of movement, he drew a small microphone from his pocket and switched it on.

"Inmates of Summercliff federal prison," Sinclair's voice boomed from the speakers in the yard. Caitlin could also hear it coming from the public address system inside the building. "The condemned in the courtyard of building three has been found guilty of the murder of three citizens, and as such has been condemned by the magistrate."

Caitlin finally understood what was going on and what she was witnessing. She stared out the window and watched the big wolf standing there, and she could see, even from the second story, the wide smile on Sinclair's face. The wolf was enjoying this, and he was making it obvious to everyone.

Caitlin's eyes were drawn to the door she'd seen Orfeo walking into, and from the window to the side, she could make out Momma Wolf's form in the window, looking out just the same as all the inmates who Caitlin could see standing at the open windows to their cells. She didn't want to watch this, but she couldn't find a way to take her eyes away.

"The condemned has served its seven days, and by order of the magistrate, will now be put to death."

Sinclair slid the microphone back into his pocket and turned to the assembled wolves that still stood at attention. The younger one that had fumbled earlier looked like he was going to be sick, and his eyes were riveted on the girl against the pole. He licked his muzzle once, then again, and Caitlin could see his panting breath through his open muzzle.

Sinclair didn't need the microphone for his voice to carry as he gave the commands.

"Port...Arms!" he called, and the wolves brought their rifles up to hold them across their chests. Sinclair turned and walked to the girl in the center, and then grabbed her roughly by the arm to pull her to her feet.

Caitlin could see everything that happened between the guard and the girl and she watched as he slid a pair of flex cuffs around the girl's wrists and tightened them cruelly around the skin. He leered in her face and the girl still didn't move, or show any sign that she knew what was going on at all.

Then Sinclair took a heavy S-hook from his pocket and reached up over the girl's head, pulling the chain from her collar taut to the top of the pole, and slid the hook through two of the chain's links, holding the chain tight, forcing the girl to stand or choke on the collar around her neck. The girl still stood stock still, Caitlin could see an empty look in her eyes.

Sinclair lifted the girl's hands over her head and hooked the flex cuffs into the hook above her head. When everything was secured, the reached down and parted the white robe just a ways to expose the girl's tawny chest. He took a small spray can and sprayed a red mark just slightly left of center on her fur, and then put the can back in the holder on his belt. Before he turned back, he leered at her once again, and slid his hand down the front of her robe and in between her legs.

Caitlin could see the change in Sinclair's face as the girl's lack of reaction infuriated him. He withdrew his hand and marched stiffly to the side of the line of wolves.

"Ready!" he called.

In unison, the wolves turned their rifles and lodged the stocks in their shoulders, pointing the barrels at the ground slightly in front of them.

"Aim!"

Caitlin watched as time slowed to a crawl, and it seemed to take forever for the barrels to lift, and for the wolves to aim down the sights, each one pointed at the young cat standing there. The girl lifted her head and looked towards the sky, and for just a second, Caitlin thought that she'd looked directly at her cell, but she dismissed the thought. From the look in the girl's eyes, it was clear that she wasn't seeing anything.

Caitlin could hear a low humming in the background, growing in volume with every excruciating second that passed, and it took her a moment to realize that it wasn't just her ears, and that it was coming from the cells.

Second by second passed and time seemed frozen, and Caitlin had all the time in the world to look out over the courtyard. She could see the girl in every cell window, and she noticed that every girl that she could see had her hands pressed against the glass of their window with their fingers spread, and she moved to copy the pose. She had time to register the cool glass under her fingers and for one second, she felt as if she was a part of something that she didn't understand.

The humming in her ears rose in volume and she could start to hear individual variations and realized that it was being made by the voices of the girls around her. She didn't know what to do, so she merely listened and let the tone vibrate in her head while she watched the courtyard. She could see the sweat dripping down the young guard's face and she imagined that she could hear his panting breath, slowed by her perception of the moment.

"Fire!"

The final command shattered her thoughts and with abrupt suddenness, the moment came to an end as five rifles fired in unison.

The girl at the post had just enough time for one final pain and terror-filled cry as all five rounds found the center of the mark that was made on her chest. Caitlin jumped and she couldn't help the sob that sounded from her throat as she saw the bullets tear into and through the cat. Blood poured from the girl's chest and back and she slumped down, held up only by the collar around her neck and her hands bound high above her head.

Caitlin could see the smoke rising from the five- no, she realized, the four rifles. The young wolf who had looked so scared and sick hadn't fired.

Sinclair noticed this almost at the same time and he took three angry paces behind the assembled line, all of whom stayed in their firing positions, holding there without moving an inch. The big wolf reached around the younger one and pulled the rifle hard against the guard's shoulder with Sinclair's paws over his on the rifle trigger and hand guard.

He took only a second to make the young guard aim, and finally the fifth shot rang out, this one directly on target for the girl's head. Caitlin couldn't suppress the scream that came out of her mouth as the top of the girl's head came apart in the force of the round. She shook violently and she watched as the young wolf finally broke ranks and sank to his knees, vomiting and retching on the grass.

Sinclair held on to the wolf's rifle and ejected the round, then tossed it at the young wolf's feet with a contemptuous look. Then he resumed his position at the end of the line.

When the shock cleared her brain and the ringing in her ears stopped, Caitlin could once again hear the tones of the other girls' voices, rising and falling in a haunting melody. It had no words, but the strength of the music tore sobs from Caitlin's throat and made her put her hands back on the glass once again.

Sinclair pretended not to notice the singing and he waited for the young wolf to regain his feet, holding the entire detail in their firing position until he had.

"Port...Arms!" he called.

Again the rifles were brought across the guards' bodies.

As if this duty happened every day, he gave the commands to turn the wolves back to the gate and he marched them out of the central courtyard and through the open door to the prison, leaving the girl's body hanging limp and lifeless at the pole, her blood soaking the white robe to turn it a deep, dark red.