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The White Robe Part 2

By BlindTiger

By the time the van pulled up outside the prison, Caitlin was so sick with worry that she didn't even think she could walk. She looked up from where she was sitting to the front seat and the back of Sinclair's big head. The wolf was studiously ignoring her for the time being, and after the experience back in the hospital, Caitlin was glad for small favors.

Caitlin could see the large complex as they were passing it, and by now the only thing that dominated the view out the windshield was the imposing plain brick walls of one of the buildings. It looked to be perfectly square with windows spaced exactly evenly throughout its surface. The windows looked to be thick glass with heavy bars covering the outside. Her eyes widened as they got closer and closer and she realized just how large this one building was. From the roadway, she'd seen an entire complex surrounded by nothing but open fields divided by high fences. If this was just one building, how many people could they fit in this whole complex? The thought made her head spin.

Sinclair stopped the car and got out. She watched him stride up the loading-dock entrance and start speaking with someone in a similar uniform. She turned her head away to look out the side window, thinking that by now her father was probably worried sick and driving her whole family into an anxiety attack. He had to have seen the news, and she knew that by now they would have released her name to the world. She felt a kinship even this far away, because she wasn't too far from a panic attack herself.

Sinclair had said little after the examination was done. It wasn't long after the doctor left that the staff had given them the okay to leave. The orderly had been at least nice enough to button the hospital gown around her as she left so her ass wasn't hanging out all the way to the van. They'd taken the back way out and hadn't been stopped by any news crews or cameras. She couldn't tell if that annoyed or pleased Sinclair. It seemed to be both, like he didn't want to deal with the hassle, but he was kind of disappointed that his charge wouldn't be further humiliated.

The opening of the door in front of her face surprised her and she flinched back as Sinclair reached into the van and just about hauled her out by her shoulder. "Come on, girl," he said, "we're holding up traffic."

Caitlin managed to find her footing before she fell on her face, but Sinclair pushed her forwards at a pace she wasn't used to moving. All her attention for the moment was simply put into keeping up with him and not falling down. The little attention she had left was focused on keeping her legs from giving out under her, they were shaking so badly.

The wolf Sinclair had been talking to was joined by three others, large, intimidating and armed with large riot sticks. All this for me? she thought to herself. The four guards stood stock still on the dock, watching her with wary eyes as Sinclair led her into the building. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to look any of them in the eye, choosing instead to simply hang her head against her chest and keep her eyes upon the ground, not wanting to challenge them or bring any further unwanted attention to herself. They all looked like the same kind of wolf as the one guiding her in, and he was bad enough.

Inside the door, though, there was a lone female wolf guard, dressed in the same uniform as the wolves outside, subtly different than the one Sinclair wore. She stood slightly taller than Caitlin but not by much, and her stature was smaller than her male counterparts, although she was still more muscular than Caitlin. The name tag on her shirt read "Orfeo." The female wolf looked Caitlin over with a professional eye. Caitlin didn't seem to get the same feeling of malevolence that she got from Sinclair, more a detached attention that spoke of something she did every day and that Caitlin's arrival was nothing more interesting than answering the phone or filling out paperwork. Caitlin caught a quick change in her expression, though, when she looked over the tigresses shoulder at Sinclair. It was clear from the small flash of expression that this Orfeo didn't care much for Sinclair either.

"Sinclair," Orfeo said, "I was expecting you twenty minutes ago. Did you decide to take the scenic route?"

Sinclair favored her with a sarcastic grin, "Melissa, you know that I never take the long way when I'm expecting to see you."

"Can it, Sinclair. This the Kincaid girl?"

Had Caitlin not been so singularly focused on keeping her legs steady and her eyes from involuntarily tearing up, she might have actually smiled as this new wolf told off her tormentor. As it stood, though, she did manage to lift her head ever so slightly, wanting to get a bit of a better look at this new wolf.

Orfeo didn't seem to notice or care about the change in Caitlin's demeanor, but simply kept her glare focused on Sinclair, daring him to be a smart ass.

"Yeah, this is Kincaid," Sinclair said, obviously not willing to brave the other officer's wrath.

"I trust nothing...untoward happened between the hospital and here? Nothing I'd need to officially report." Something in her voice made Caitlin realize that she wasn't speaking just symbolically, and her ears flattened against her skull. Sinclair must have a history, something Orfeo didn't approve of.

"She's as untouched as she was when they let us out of the hospital," Sinclair said. "Anyway, why do you care? Not like I ain't gonna be seein' her again real soon." Something about the grin on Sinclair's face made Caitlin's heart jump into her throat and hang there, making her want to gag, or throw up, or some combination of the two.

Orfeo merely deepened her glare and took a step forward. She put her paw on Caitlin's shoulder and gently pulled her away from the big wolf. "You do what you like with the bath toys, Sinclair, but until they're formally charged and sentenced, they're my responsibility, and I will not see any harm come to them."

Bath toys? Caitlin wondered, What the hell is she talking about? She couldn't muster up the courage to ask. She was in enough trouble as it was, and all she wanted to do was get through the next steps with as little trouble as possible. If she was cooperative and didn't make a scene, maybe they'd finally let her call her dad.

A wave of nausea ran through her body when she thought about her father. She could picture them in her mind's eye, clustered on the couch in front of the TV, maybe with the phone nearby hoping for word, worried sick, maybe calling neighbors, hospitals, the police station, even the television station. Her father was probably frantically trying to call in every favor he'd ever accumulated. Her heart ached, almost a physical pain against her chest and finally her legs wouldn't keep her standing any more, and she faltered against Orfeo.

The female guard might have been used to this whole thing and managed to catch her as she fell, keeping her from hitting the floor. She simply caught her against her body and eased her down a bent knee until she sat on the floor. Orfeo gently put her hand between Caitlin's shoulder blades and guided her head down between her bent knees.

"Don't you throw up on my nice clean floor, girl." Orfeo's voice was business-like and professional, and as strange as it was, Caitlin actually appreciated it. If the wolf had been coddling or motherly, she probably wouldn't have been able to hold it together and would have dissolved in a puddle of sobbing and wailing right there on the floor. In front of Sinclair, it would have been excruciating, and she may have actually died of humiliation.

But the stern voice and apparent disregard for her feelings cut through everything, and she found herself better able to actually focus. After a minute of heavy breathing, she managed to choke back the lump in her throat and not long after that her shaking legs stilled.

"Looks like you've done enough work on this one Sinclair. You can go." Orfeo said. She reached into the pouch on her belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handed it to the big wolf.

Sinclair looked for a minute like he was going to argue, but instead shook his head, took the handcuffs, then turned and walked out the door. Orfeo watched him leave with a frown on her face, then reached down and wrapped an arm around Caitlin's back and under her shoulders. With a practiced ease, the guard got the girl to her feet and held her there for a second, making sure she wasn't going to fall and face plant on the concrete floor.

"You're all right, girl." Orfeo said, voice still all business. "Let's go. We've got tons of paperwork to do and I don't want to be here all night."

She led Caitlin through the door at the far end of the room and into the next room. Caitlin was expecting something like this. It was a plainly furnished shower room, completely tiled in some sort of industrial blue tile with an open shower on one side and a locker-room bench bolted to the floor on the opposite side. There was not curtain to the shower, nothing to block the view, and on the bench was a simple light blue jumpsuit, unfolded and laying over the metal surface. On top of the jumpsuit was a simple pair of white cotton briefs, a white sports bra and a pair of white socks.

While she made no attempt to be overly gentle about anything, Orfeo wasn't obviously trying to be horrible like Sinclair was. She unlocked the handcuffs, and she helped Caitlin out of the hospital gown, carefully not noticing the missing patches of fur where evidence had been collected earlier in the evening. Even with the practiced non-attention, Caitlin couldn't help feeling uncomfortable and exposed, barefoot and naked in a strange room with a strange person watching over her.

Orfeo pointed to the shower, "You're only supposed to have ten minutes, girl, but you're a little messier than most of the girls who come in, so I'll give you twenty." She gave Caitlin a gentle push towards the shower. "Make sure you get all that blood out of your fur. Wouldn't do to have you contaminating the bunk."

Caitlin stood in the center of the room shivering for a moment before she finally took some first tentative steps to the end of the room with the shower head sticking out of the wall. Step by step she willed her feet to move. She didn't know how long it would be until she had another chance to shower, and she had to admit that the dried blood in her fur itched something awful. Saying a quiet prayer of thanks, she finally managed to work her way over to the faucet. She was surprised by how quickly the water warmed up when she turned on the tap, slightly happy that she didn't have to waste any of her precious little time waiting for warm water.

The nozzle on the shower head shaped the water into almost a jet engine blast and propelled it against her skin with a force she'd not experienced before and she had to grit her teeth as the needle-like spray stung against the freshly scraped skin and bare patches in her fur. Still, though, it was warm and it was just a little comforting. She could almost close her eyes and imagine herself back at home.

She didn't let her mind wander too far in that direction. She still wasn't through this whole thing yet, and she knew that if she let herself go it would be a long time before she finally came back. So she closed her eyes tightly and focused only on the water against her fur until she'd managed to control the welling inside. After that, it was a simple matter to find the little scrub brush with disinfectant soap and start scrubbing.

She didn't know how long she was in the shower, but she suspected that Orfeo hadn't kept track either. She was scrubbing and scrubbing, and for a few minutes, she even managed to forget the ever watchful eye of her guard companion. Once she'd finally managed to get the last bit of blood out of her fur, she felt all over looking for spots that she'd missed, and then turned off the tap, watching the pink tinged water circle down the drain.

When she looked up, she was met with the sight of Officer Orfeo holding out a towel for her, still a professional lack of expression on her face. "Dry off, but do not dress yet."

Caitlin nodded and took the plain, rough, white towel from the guard. It was just barely large enough for her to use, like a loaned gym towel, not large enough to completely encircle her body, and just barely enough to contain all the water. By the time she was done toweling off, the towel was soaked and near dripping on the floor. She laid the towel across the metal bench and then looked back up at Orfeo, who motioned her to the corner of the room behind the bench on the opposite side of the shower.

"Hands on the wall, and spread your legs a little wider than your shoulders, please," Orfeo said. Caitlin noticed that while it wasn't necessarily a nice tone, the obvious order was at least phrased as a request. She complied immediately, placing the palms of her paws on the cold tile of the wall. She spread her legs as far as she thought she should and jumped a bit when she felt Orfeo's hard leather boot nudging her ankles just a little further apart.

From behind her, she could hear Orfeo donning a pair of latex gloves. She closed her eyes as the memories from earlier in the day assaulted her brain and without her thinking, her knees began to close together. She felt the guard's paw on the back of her neck and she jumped, squeezing her eyes shut while her legs shook beneath her.

"Look, girl," Orfeo said, speaking from far enough behind that Caitlin didn't feel any more threatened that she already was, "I've got to do this, but I'll make it as easy as possible. Just stay still and it'll be all over."

Caitlin scrunched her eyes further closed and nodded, trying to keep the tears contained behind her eyes and failing. Her whole body trembled beneath that steady paw on her neck. She tried to draw a deep breath and force the fear down, but she wasn't very successful. All she could do was to stand there trying not to wet herself while Orfeo began to pad down every inch of her body with a professional tact. Front, back, arms and legs, fingers combing through the hair on her head and the fur all over her body, checking every crevice and possible hiding place.

Then she nearly lost control when she felt Orfeo's hand slip up between her legs and in between her labia, two fingers searching for anything hidden within her body. She heard Orfeo's voice behind her, "I'm sorry about this, girl, but it's protocol." Then the fingers were gone, but not for long. One digit returned to probe under her tail, a quick insertion and abbreviated search and then it was withdrawn. It was enough, though to start up the sobs, and Caitlin slumped to the floor of the shower room and drew her legs up to her chest, balling herself up in the corner and she sobbed quietly.

She clenched her eyes shut, willing it all to be over, willing her father to be standing right outside the door where she could run to him and he could hold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, that he loved her and would take her home to her bed and her family. But she had no such luck. When she opened her eyes and cleared the tears, she found herself looking up at Officer Orfeo's blank face, watching her patiently with her paws behind her back.

"Are you okay now?" she asked when Caitlin opened her eyes.

Caitlin shook her head, but Orfeo didn't seem to notice, simply knelt down beside her and again helped her to her feet with an arm around and under her shoulders. Caitlin managed to retain her feet under her and didn't need to lean on Orfeo too much, but she was still grateful when the guard set her down on the bench and let her be for a moment. When she felt she could move without ending up back on the floor, she reached out and grabbed the pair of briefs off the pile of clothing next to her. They were rough, generic cotton and they felt strange and unfamiliar on her body. The bra was the same way. Of course, when she thought about it, it made sense. Who wanted to spend any sort of money on people in jail, right?

Underwear donned, she slid her feet into the blue jumpsuit and stood up, pulling the upper half over her body until she could zip the long zipper that ran almost from the crotch to her neck. The jumpsuit was loose around her body but not so loose that it restricted anything or got in the way. She reached around behind her and pulled her tail through the elastic looped hole in the back then slid the plain white socks onto her feet. Once she was dressed, she spared another glance at Officer Orfeo.

Orfeo seemed not to have moved the entire time, simply stood there at parade rest with her eyes not moving from Caitlin, an almost bored expression on her face. Seeing that her charge was dressed and ready, she pulled the set of handcuffs back out from the case on her belt.

"Turn around and put your hands behind you again," she said, holding the cuffs loosely in her hand.

Caitlin complied and only a moment passed before she felt the cold metal once again encircling her wrists. Her shoulders sagged, but she kept her head up and waited until Orfeo had laid a hand on her shoulder before she started moving through yet another door on the far side of the room.

Through the next door looked like a small office with four desks, one in each corner. Each desk had its own computer monitor with an office chair on one side and a straight-backed metal chair with no arms bolted to the floor on the other side of the desk. Orfeo guided Caitlin to the furthest desk, the one closest to what Caitlin knew would be the next door she'd be guided through, and sat her down on the metal chair, then crossed around the desk to take her own seat.

It took a minute for the computer to wake up and for the guard to enter her information. When everything was up and running, Orfeo looked over the top of the monitor at Caitlin and started in.

"Name, girl?" she asked.

"Caitlin," her voice faltered and broke as she spoke. Her mouth was dry and she realized she'd almost been panting with the stress. "Caitlin Kincaid, ma'am," she finally managed to answer.

"Middle name?"

"Catherine."

"Date of birth?"

"May second, twenty one twelve, ma'am."

Orfeo stopped typing for a moment and looked over the top of her monitor at the young tigress. "Look, Kincaid. Enough with the ma'am's. You just be polite and respectful and we won't have a problem, okay?" She almost managed a bit of a grin, "The girls here call me Momma Wolf."

Caitlin nodded. She wondered if she could remember not to use the honorific her father had always taught her to use, but she'd try.

"All right, then. So that makes you eighteen?" Orfeo continued.

"That's right."

Orfeo took a few moments to type, her attention completely focused on the screen. A high-pitched screaming permeated from the far door and Caitlin jumped in her seat, making the handcuffs rattle against the back. Orfeo didn't seem the least bit concerned, merely continued her typing.

After a minute of reviewing data Orfeo reached into a drawer and pulled out a small camera. She attached it to the computer with a cable and pointed it at Caitlin. "Please look into the camera."

Caitlin complied and couldn't help flinching at the bright flash. While she was blinking away the spots, Orfeo put the camera back in a drawer and went back to her typing. Caitlin had nothing to do but sit there, looking around the room. She tried to keep her thoughts off everything that had happened, or everything that might happen. That left her very little to think about.

Thankfully, Orfeo finished her data entry about the time the crushing fear was settling in. She turned off the monitor, stood up and made her way back around the desk to help Caitlin back to her feet. "All right, that's it for now. Let's get you settled."

She turned Caitlin towards the door and together they made their way through it. On the other side was exactly what Caitlin had been expecting. This was the prison proper and she could have almost predicted what it would look like from the outside. The room they entered stretched three stories and was in a square around what looked to be a central courtyard. Directly across from the door they entered was a door through the other wall. All along the inside of the hollow square, cells lined the walls, each a very small space with only a bunk and a combination toilet and sink inside. There looked to be barely enough room to even turn around in the cells.

Along the outside wall on the first floor were offices and other accessory rooms. On the two other floors above her, the outside wall was broken only by the heavy glass and barred windows she'd seen from the outside. There were no cells along the outside wall. Walkways allowed access to the cells along the inner wall of the upper two stories.

Orfeo walked Caitlin down the main hallway to the first staircase and up to the second floor. All the cells on the bottom floor were full of other inmates, all dressed in the same blue jumpsuit and white socks. As they walked, some of the furs cat-called to Caitlin, but incredibly, they stopped at the slightest look from Orfeo. The girl in the cell by the stairs, a leopard from the look of her, made a gesture, spreading two fingers on either side of her mouth and drew her tongue up between them. Orfeo stopped and looked at her.

All it took was a look, and the tough looking girl dropped her eyes. "Sorry, Momma Wolf," she muttered.

"Don't apologize to me, Daisy," Orfeo answered.

"Sorry, new girl," the leopard said, blushing.

Orfeo turned her look to Caitlin. "Well, Kincaid?"

Caitlin stuttered, looking between Orfeo and the leopard. "Um...that's okay," she said, wondering just what the wolf was all about.

Orfeo nodded but didn't keep going just yet. "Kincaid, this is Daisy. Daisy's here for shoplifting, and she'll be going home next week." The guard glared at Daisy, "Daisy, be cool with Kincaid. She's had a hard day."

Daisy nodded and walked back to her bunk. She sat there watching as Orfeo marched Caitlin up the stairs to the second floor.

They walked around the walkway to the furthest point on the second floor from the entrance and stopped in front of an empty cell.

"This one's yours, Kincaid," the wolf said as the door opened.

She guided Caitlin inside and waited until the door closed. "Back up to the bars."

Caitlin did as she was instructed and soon felt the handcuffs being unlocked. She rubbed her wrists and turned around. Orfeo was finally giving her a soft smile when she leaned a bit closer to the bars and said, "Don't let them scare you, girl. They're just as scared as you are."

Caitlin nodded, but didn't know if she believed her. Daisy didn't seem scared. But then again, she was due to leave soon, so maybe that gave her a bit more courage than the others. She finally mustered up what little courage she had left.

"Momma Wolf?" she asked.

Orfeo nodded, "What do you need, girl?"

"Do you know if anyone called my parents?"

Orfeo frowned, "They were supposed to do that at the hospital, but I wouldn't put it past Sinclair to 'forget' that little detail." She nodded again, "I'll make sure they know where you are."

That little bit of kindness almost broke poor Caitlin and she managed a small smile even through the trembling lips. "Thank you."

Orfeo wasn't done, though and she waited for Caitlin to regain her composure. "Caitlin Kincaid. It is my duty now to inform you that you are being held under suspicion of seven counts of murder. You, as the accused, have the right to stay silent during any questioning. However, should you choose to do so, that fact will be noted in your arraignment and subsequent trial should formal charges be brought. Do you understand?"

Caitlin couldn't speak as once again the reality of her situation crashed in upon her and she merely nodded.

"Furthermore, Miss Kincaid, the investigator assigned to your case is Inspector Richard Corbett. He has been investigating the allegations and will meet with you in no more than twenty four hours from this time. At that time, a formal decision will be made whether to bring charges or dismiss the case. Should charges be brought, you will remain here for the duration of the trial and any further sentencing."

Orfeo sounded bored, and it was obvious she'd memorized this whole speech. How many times has she given it? Caitlin wondered.

"Do you understand everything I have said to you, Miss Kincaid?"

Caitlin nodded again.

"Very well. You will be provided with further clothing and a selection of hygiene items for your personal use. Inmates are given two hours of yard time every day and you will be expected to adhere to standards of good conduct while you are incarcerated in this facility. Any behavior inconsistent with good conduct will be dealt with quickly and harshly." Orfeo took a breath. "Now that that's out of the way, if you need something, call for me. The other guards will answer if I'm not here."

Caitlin couldn't tell just yet if she liked Orfeo or not, but so far, she couldn't complain about her treatment. She nodded again and watched as Orfeo turned and walked down the walkway, listening to her footsteps dwindle, hearing some soft words and a bit of laughing as she passed the cells on her way down.

Finally, she couldn't simply stand in the middle of the cell any more, and she crossed the small area to the window set into the wall. As she suspected, there was a central courtyard and her window looked out into it. There were bars set into this window as well, but the heavy glass could be opened from the inside to allow a bit of fresh air into the cell. At the moment it was open and a light breeze flowed through, just enough to ruffle the fur on her face.

The courtyard outside consisted on a small, grassy, central area surrounded by a high fence. In the exact center of the central area stood a large, white, metal pole. The fence to that area had only one gate directly across from what looked like the door she'd seen earlier when Orfeo led her into the main complex. Around the central grassy area there was a large recreational space. Some of it was taken up with sporting equipment, like a basketball hoop, and throughout the rest were scattered weight and fitness equipment, picnic tables, and a couple metal benches bolted into the ground against the building wall.

It looked like pretty much every prison yard she'd ever seen on TV, except for the bit in the center. Looking out over it now, Caitlin noticed that there was a solitary figure kneeling next to the pole. It was a smaller, female cat and she looked to be chained to the pole with a large, heavy-gauge chain fastened to a collar around her neck. The other end was locked to a ring on the pole. She was dressed only in a stained, dirty white robe. The robe hung almost open in the front, but from this angle, Caitlin couldn't tell if she was nude beneath it or not. She didn't really want to know, when she thought about it. The cat merely knelt in the grass with her chin on her chest. Caitlin could see her face and the expression upon it sent chills down her spine. There was such a wealth of sadness and fear on that face that it made Caitlin's eyes water in sympathy.

Caitlin jumped away from the window, almost afraid she'd been caught doing something wrong when she heard a quiet voice. "Hey, new girl." It sounded like it was coming from the next cell over. The girl in that cell must have her window open as well.

"Um..." Caitlin wasn't sure if she was supposed to be talking with anyone or not, but it seemed okay. "You mean me?"

"Yeah, you. You're the only new girl here." The girl giggled, "At least you are now. I was the new girl until you got here."

Caitlin almost wanted to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"So, murder, huh? You that girl they showed on the news?" the girl asked.

"I guess so," Caitlin said.

"That's some pretty heavy charges, girl. So did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Kill seven people. What else would I be asking about?" the girl's voice dripped sarcasm.

"I...I don't remember." Caitlin was shocked to finally admit it. Had she killed them? Everything was a blank after she and Hunter were in bed together. Could she have gotten up, murdered everyone and then fell back asleep on the couch?

"I hope you remember soon," the girl said.

Caitlin returned her attention back to the courtyard. "Who's that down there?"

"You mean the bath toy?"

Caitlin frowned, "I heard Sinclair say that."

"Don't even talk about that bastard in here, new girl. There ain't no way to describe him that doesn't insult whatever you're comparing him to. I'd say he's a pile of shit, but I think I'd rather roll around with the pile of shit."

Caitlin's eyes widened at the obvious vehemence. She wasn't too fond of Sinclair herself, and it seemed like she had gotten off light. "Okay, okay. Won't talk about him."

"All right." Caitlin could almost hear the girl's sigh. "Anyway, they call them 'bath toys' but the official name is 'condemned.' That girl down there's got a death sentence."

Caitlin drew a sharp breath and looked again at the figure in the white robe. "What did she do?" she asked.

"They say she murdered two people when she was robbing a convenience store." The girl's voice held a subtle tone that said she was only telling the official story.

"But you don't think so?" Caitlin asked.

"Does she look like she could kill anyone?" the girl asked in return.

Caitlin looked again, this time harder. The white robed girl might have been a little older than Caitlin but if she was, it wasn't by much. "Not really."

"Yeah, so they say she did it. That's what counts, though."

"So, what, they just leave her there?" Caitlin asked.

"Nah," the girl said, "The condemned, they take away, put in that white robe, only a clean one, right? They put them in that robe then leave them out in one of the courtyards. When you're condemned, they don't consider you a person any more. They call them 'bath toys' because someone said the robe looked like a bathrobe and the 'toy' part...well, the guards like to amuse themselves by playing with them."

The girl said all this like it was matter-of-fact, not shocking, just a fact of life.

"And then what?" Caitlin asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"They stay out in the yard for six days. On the seventh, they get everyone out to watch while they shoot them."

Caitlin's heart felt as though if it beat any faster it would take off out the window without her and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She managed to turn herself so when she sat down, it was on her bunk. This couldn't be happening. She didn't kill anyone, and if she couldn't remember, would they put her out there, in that white robe?

Panic set in and her stomach heaved. She barely made it to the toilet before she lost what very little she still had in her stomach. She kept heaving, though, dry heaves that brought up nothing, did nothing to clear her head. Vaguely at the edge of her hearing she heard the girl calling for Momma Wolf, but she couldn't stop. When she finally finished retching, she could feel hear a low, mournful keening sound from somewhere nearby. It grew until it drowned out even the sound of her cell door opening. When she felt the prick of a needle in her arm, she finally realized that the sound was coming from her lips. Then, as her voice faded, it was joined and finally superseded by a matching wail that emanated from the courtyard, brought in through her window by the cooling evening breeze.

It went on and on while Orfeo and another guard hoisted Caitlin off the floor and onto her bunk. It became more frantic as they covered Caitlin with the rough sheets and blanket and only stopped when Caitlin had finally sunk into unconsciousness.

---

Inspector Corbett set the file down on his desk and rubbed his eyes. The lab tests had finally come back on the Kincaid girl, and none of them made any sense. All this modern equipment and technological advances, and they couldn't even put something more than "inconclusive" on the report from her sex assault kit. About the only thing that was worth anything from the girl's medical file was her drug screen. She tested positive for C.

C, or vitamin C, or OJ as it was known variously on the streets was a synthetic drug that made the user incomprehensibly happy and euphoric. It also generally tended to block inhibitors in the brain that kept the user from overexerting themselves to the point of damage. It also made people incredibly violent. So a user on C would be the happiest camper on the planet while he picked up the nearest car and used it to beat his mother to death, tearing his own muscles right off the bones as he did so. And then, if he survived the night, he wouldn't remember a damn thing about it.

On top of all the inconclusive laboratory results, there were the crime scene reports. They all seemed to scream at him that this Kincaid girl had to be the only possible suspect. He just wasn't buying it. He'd looked at her file and gone over the entire medical summary with a fine toothed comb, and everything in his experience told him that this little eighteen year old girl couldn't possibly have overpowered and stabbed seven people to death. But everything in front of him said she did.

He rubbed his eyes in frustration and tilted his chair back, trying to make sense of everything. The phone on his desk rang, piercing his deep breathing relaxation exercise. He picked up the receiver.

"What?" he asked.

"Inspector Corbett?" the voice on the other end was hesitant. "This is Doctor Amine from Charity."

Corbett thought through the file for a moment before he placed the name. "The pathologist."

"That's right," Doctor Amine answered, "I need to see you. Can you meet me at Dave's?"

Dave's was the local bar not far from the hospital. It gave a discount to staff, and the proprietor had to have been a genius, knowing that a lot of the staff needed a place to blow off steam and he put the bar right between the hospital and the upper-class west hills section.

"Yeah, I can be there. Say, thirty minutes?"

"That would be fine. Thank you, inspector."

The line went dead and Corbett hung the phone up. Curiosity roused, he collected the files on his desk and made his way downstairs to his car. He couldn't say why the doc wanted to talk with him, but it sounded important, and maybe it would shed some light on the case.

Dave's tavern was dark, as was the case with many of its ilk, but it was fastidiously clean and looked about as far from a hospital as possible. The usual bar was in place along the far wall, but in the main area the seating was simply leather couches clustered around various coffee tables. All in all the vibe was much more comfortable than any other bar he'd been in.

He didn't have to look very hard for Doctor Amine. The doc was already beckoning him over to the far end of the bar. Corbett ambled his way across the room and took a seat on the bar stool next to the doctor.

"What's it gonna be, chief?" the bartender asked.

"A pint of whatever you've got on tap that you like to drink," Corbett answered.

The bartender smiled and poured up a glass of dark amber ale and set it in front of the inspector, then went on his way back down to the far end of the bar. Corbett took a gulp of the bitter drink and turned to face Amine.

"All right, doc. Tell me something."

The doctor looked nervously at the door, then at the bartender. Then he leaned a bit closer to Corbett and answered with his voice low, "You need to know something about the Kincaid case, inspector."

"I need to know a lot about that case doc. What specifically do you think I need to know?"

"The girl's official tox screen said she was positive for C, right?"

"Well you should know, you've seen her records." Corbett fiddled with his glass with a frown on his face, he knew this stuff already.

"Well, inspector, those results are false."

"That's a big claim, doctor."

"I know, and I don't have proof. I did my own test on the blood and the girl was positive for a drug, but it wasn't C. It was rohypnol. The girl was sedated."

Corbett frowned. "You just said you didn't have proof."

The doctor took a swig of his beer and shook his head, "Someone broke into my office and stole the samples and the test results."

"So you're saying there's a conspiracy?"

The doctor took a deep breath and sighed. "Inspector, I know there's a conspiracy. And if you tell anyone else what I'm going to tell you, I suspect you won't be long for your career."

Corbett frowned deeper, "What are you saying?"

"Kincaid's rape kit wasn't inconclusive. She'd had sex that night, right before everything went down." Amine's eyes turned to focus on his beer as he continued, "The timeline is such that she had to have had sex at that house. And the semen didn't match any of the blood found there. You're missing someone, inspector."

"What do you mean, missing someone?" Corbett growled. He didn't like where this was headed. He didn't like loose ends.

"I mean that there was someone there who isn't one of the dead. And that person is male and had sex with your Kincaid girl in that house."

"That would explain the stain on the sheets in the bedroom," Corbett mused, almost to himself. "So why does the report say it was inconclusive?"

The doctor finished what was left of his beer and again looked over his shoulder before he answered. "Senator Lewis' boys came by my office yesterday. They...they made me change the results."

Corbett's eyes widened and he gaped, "What?! And you went along with it?"

Doctor Amine looked pained. "He knows things about me, and I couldn't afford not to." His eyes looked into Corbett's, imploring him to understand. "If you breathe a word, I'll deny it. You don't want to get in the middle of this, inspector."

"Then why are you telling me this?" Corbett demanded.

Amine smiled sadly, "They're going to condemn this girl, inspector. My conscience isn't black enough that I can just look the other way."

Corbett frowned, "No? You might as well just tie the white belt on her yourself you-" he stopped himself and stood up, leaving his beer unfinished. "I don't know how you can live with that, doctor," he practically spat the last word, "but you've obviously figured out a way."

"The only thing I can do, inspector, is hope that I've given you enough that you'll find something on your own."

Corbett turned to leave and stopped at a hand on his shoulders.

"You need to look at Senator Lewis, inspector. He's involved somehow."

Corbett shook the hand off his shoulder and stalked out of the bar. He couldn't prove a damn thing, but it was a place to start.