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  Kathryn’s

  Justice

  By Marianne Spitzer

  © March 2015

  This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the written consent of the author.

  Acknowledgements

  There are many people I would like to thank for their help and understanding while I wrote this book, but first and foremost, I want to thank God for all His blessings. I also wish to thank my family and friends for their patience when I disappear into my writing world especially my son, Lance, for his unwavering support. Cover designed by the talented Laura at LLPix Designs. Thanks to Wayne Zurl for his gun knowledge and sharing it with me. Editing by Argiletum.com

  Kathryn’s

  Justice

  By Marianne Spitzer

  Chapter One

  Severe trauma and depression.

  Kathryn heard the doctor mention the words when he spoke to her sister. They were outside her room and didn’t think she heard. The doctor continued to explain that she wasn’t a danger to anyone or herself, and they couldn’t keep her longer than three days. Kathryn’s older sister was there to pick her up. The doctor stated it might be better if she stayed with family. Kathryn scooted over on her bed where she could hear the conversation clearly.

  “Ms. Wright experienced a traumatic event and she’ll need time to heal. She saw our psychiatrist and will follow up as needed. Each patient deals differently with these situations. She will also need to deal with her grief. She was given information on grief counseling, too.”

  Kathryn thought, I don’t belong here, but it served a purpose. I listened to the psychiatrist and spoke to her about my feelings. I participated in two group therapy sessions. I declined all their meds. I don’t need sleeping pills, and although I used to have panic attacks, I didn’t need anxiety meds. I wasn’t anxious although they think I was. Seeing a man die is enough to make anyone anxious, I guess.

  Kathryn heard her sister say, “She’s welcome to stay with me as long as needed. Kathryn has been through a lot, and I worry about her. She didn’t need this additional shock. Are you sure she’s well enough to leave? She used to suffer from panic attacks when she was a teen and after our mom died. Could they come back?”

  The doctor assured her that Kathryn was doing as well as could be expected and with time and love she’d heal.

  “I’m worried about her, doctor,” Pam confided.

  “She could have some residual symptoms, and panic attacks are not uncommon, but she hasn‘t had any since she’s been here. She’s also sleeping well. They’re good signs that she’s on her way to dealing with this loss well,” the doctor explained.

  “Okay, we’ll go home, but I’m going to watch her closely,” Pam insisted.

  “Good idea,” the doctor said. “Take care.”

  Why not? Kathryn thought. If I agree to their idiotic terms, I’ll get out faster, but then by law they can’t hold me. I’m not a criminal. I’m a victim. I didn’t need to be here at all, but everyone believes that I’m traumatized. I’m perfectly fine. Once I’m out, I can continue my hunt. I’ll be free to resume my research, too. Playing victim wasn’t hard, and while this place isn’t a five-star hotel, three days of rest and sleep didn’t hurt me.

  Neither Kathryn’s sister, Pam nor the doctor knew about her hunting. She smiled knowing she had a secret. It was more than a secret; it was a quest to cleanse the city. They most likely wouldn’t understand, but it wasn’t necessary. Kathryn knew what she needed to accomplish.

  I hate that they call this the psych ward. It gives people the wrong impression. Most people here suffered a trauma or have a chemical imbalance. They need time and space for therapy or medication to help them back into the outside world. The violent patients are in the county mental health facility a few miles away. Everyone I met here has been sweet. At least they updated the décor when they added the new wing. The soft blue walls are a far cry from the stereotypical hospital white. No bars on the windows make me and the others feel less confined even though we know the small mesh in the glass will keep us all here. I like the white fluffy clouds someone painted on the blue walls in the cafeteria/activity room. The bright yellow tables and the kaleidoscope of colored chairs make the room cheerful and inviting. Who knew there were so many different shades of color?

  Kathryn blew air out of her puffed cheeks. When are they going to spring me?

  Hearing her sister’s footsteps, she dropped back on the bed and closed her eyes.

  “Hi, Katie,” her sister said. “Are you ready to go home?”

  Kathryn could hear the worry in Pam’s voice while she tried to sound sweet and gentle. The last thing she wanted was to see Pam suffer or hurt in any way. This situation was unavoidable. Pam would be okay as soon as she saw Kathryn doing better and out of the hospital.

  “Yes,” Kathryn answered, “but I need to stop at my place first for clothes, body wash, and shampoo. The soap here smells horrid, and I think it ruined my hair.” Kathryn looked up at Pam without moving her head. Her copper eyes hid her disappointment that the doctor thought she needed a keeper.

  “Of course, we’ll grab anything you need.” Pam flashed her sunniest smile hoping Kathryn wouldn’t know how worried she was. “When did you have the blonde highlights done? They look great.”

  “The day before I ended up here. I was tired of plain dull brown. I wanted a change.”

  “You made a nice choice. Ready to go?”

  “Yup,” Kathryn popped off the bed.

  Pam grabbed the small bag she brought in earlier with Kathryn’s change of clothes. “I’ll carry this.”

  “I’m surprised the shampoo didn’t fade the highlights. The mirrors here are unbreakable and not clear. I couldn’t tell how I looked. No wonder a lot of people hate this place, but I think the idea of forced confinement is what actually bothers them. I was ready to go as soon as they brought me in or at least as soon as I woke up from whatever they injected into the IV I found in my arm.” Kathryn scowled.

  “The doctor thought after what happened to you that you needed the rest and someone to talk to about it,” Pam smiled and hugged her.

  “Everyone over reacted. I didn’t need to be here at all. Pam, you know I have dealt with worse things. I thought about calling Dr. Graydor and have him come up and spring me, but I thought having the coroner walking through the halls might freak out some people,” Kathryn tried to stifle a giggle.

  “You’re impossible little sister. C’mon lets get you out of here.” Pam did her best to hide her smile.

  Kathryn stood and followed her sister out of the room, down the hall to the exit and freedom. Her lips turned up slightly thinking that night would soon fall.

  Goodbye everyone. Thank you for helping me convince the police that I’m an innocent victim. It was easier than I thought. However, I’m never coming back here again.

  ~ * ~

  Once in the car, Pam turned to look at Kathryn, “Are you sure you’re okay, Katie? The doc thinks you might need follow-up therapy. Are you going to listen? You can be too independent at times.”

  Kathryn smiled at her sister. “You’re my big sister who tries to take care of me while raising two kids alone right now. Speak of overly independent, and yes, if I feel I need it I’ll get therapy. I promise.”

  Right, as if I need therapy. I know what happened and why. No amount of therapy will reveal the truth, and they always want the truth. The truth will die with me when my time comes.

  “Okay, I was worried when they wouldn’t le
t me see you. Some rule about needing some quiet time to adjust and have therapy,” Pam answered.

  “Believe me, some people are so ill that their families would be broken hearted to see them right away, so they have a rule that covers initial visits. It can take a few days for some meds to work, and that’s the basis for the rule. The doc did let me call you yesterday. After group therapy, he said I was doing much better and allowed the call. They’re doing their best to keep people healthy,” Kathryn explained.

  “I guess that makes sense, but the kids and I are all the family you have. We should have been allowed to visit,” Pam insisted.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted the kids to see me in the hospital. It might have traumatized them.”

  “True,” Pam answered. “However, they should have let me visit.”

  “The rule is across the board for a reason. The last thing anyone wants to see is someone who gets upset by a visit and hides it or goes home too soon and then their next visit is to my department,” Kathryn retorted.

  “Kathryn, what an awful thought.”

  “It happens, Pam. People are strong yet fragile and need to be loved and helped. The innocent need to be protected.”

  Pam shuddered and changed the subject.

  Pam babbled about her life, husband, and the kids on their way to Kathryn’s apartment. Kathryn’s mind wandered back to three days ago when the man she met in the bar fought back. Someone called 9-1-1, the police arrived, and Kathryn’s screams helped convince everyone that a stranger had attacked them. She clung to the murdered man’s body and cried. Kathryn told the police they were dating. After all, she knew all there was to know about the creep.

  She hadn’t planned on hunting that night. Wanting a bit of rest, she stopped at the neighborhood pub and grill for a drink. He was sitting at the bar downing beer after beer. On her list, he was in fifth place, and she wasn’t prepared to take him out until he moved to number one. When he smiled at her, she thought why not and smiled back.

  In the alley on the way back to her place, she had to resort to using her knife since she had left her gun at home. Dropping her purse, she bent to pick it up and pulled a knife from her boot. She had made a special purchase anonymously on-line and paid extra for the anti-fingerprint coating on the handle. Standing back up, she plunged the knife into his chest to its hilt. He tried to punch her but missed. She shoved him hard, and he fell back and tripped. When he hit the ground, she began to scream and threw herself on top of him. It served two purposes—she could assure he was dead, and the police wouldn’t question her clothes and hands covered in blood. Kathryn smiled at the memory.

  In the ambulance and E.R., she mumbled about the man who tried to kill them. She asked for Brad knowing he was dead. She killed him. Kathryn knew the facts. The police didn’t. A police officer explained Brad passed away, and she sobbed. Kathryn intentionally babbled about the fight and how she couldn’t remember who attacked her and Brad. The attending physician admitted her to the hospital’s psychiatric ward due to her hysterics. It was the perfect cover. No one suspected she killed him. She knew most of the staff, and they knew her. Everyone liked her and felt sorry for her ordeal. She’d be well treated and believed. After all, it was her hospital. She knew the ins and outs and secrets.

  Kathryn smiled knowing she had succeeded. Brad was a child molester and suspected rapist. How long did he expect to go unpunished? The deviant lifestyle he led caught up to him. He didn’t deserve to live.

  Chapter Two

  Kathryn agreed to spend the weekend with Pam. She hoped to only spend the night to satisfy the doctor, but Pam insisted. Kathryn gave in to Pam’s determination to watch over her out of love and concern for her sister’s well-being. Kathryn worried about Pam more than she admitted.

  “Seriously, Pam, I’m okay. I don’t know why they kept me for three days. I need to be back at work on Monday, but I’ll stay here until Sunday night. By then you’ll be tired of me hanging around.”

  “The doctor said you were traumatized. You should rest longer. You know we love having you here as long and often as you wish,” Pam stated turning to look Kathryn in the eyes.

  “Of course, I was traumatized. I was nearly killed. If Brad hadn’t stepped in front of me when that guy jumped out, I might have been stabbed, too. I don’t think they needed to keep me in the hospital for three days. The rest did help, so I didn’t argue. I see a lot of bodies in the morgue, but I have never been with anyone who bled out in front of my eyes. I couldn’t help him.” She let a tear form in the corner of her eye as she remembered watching Brad die.

  I wish I could explain all of this to you, Pam. More women can walk the streets safely tonight; Kathryn thought.

  “Don’t think about it Katie,” Pam said as she tossed pasta into a pot of boiling water. “We can talk if you want, but try not to dwell on it. Are you sure you should go back to work so soon? I still don’t understand why you insisted on being a morgue assistant. You’ll see dead bodies all day. Won’t it remind you of what happened?”

  “You know perfectly well after mom died of cancer that I couldn’t continue my nursing studies. Seeing other ill people would remind me of mom’s struggle,” Kathryn said looking directly at Pam.

  “What, and dead people don’t?” Pam shook her head.

  “No, the dead can’t hurt you. They don’t cry or plead for help. It’s quiet in the morgue, and I like it. Dr. Graydor and I get along well. He says I’m a great assistant. I enjoy my job.” Kathryn smiled hoping to reassure her sister.

  Pam shrugged and began warming the pasta sauce. “I still think you need to do things that will help you forget.”

  “I’m trying. Do you need some help?”

  “No, I have it covered. Why don’t you watch TV with the kids? Those two will get your mind off anything. They were very excited you were going to spend the weekend.”

  Kathryn settled on the couch between her six-year-old nephew, Connor, and her four-year-old niece, Leah. Connor pushed the play button, and they watched an animated film about princesses and fire-breathing dragons.

  After dinner, Kathryn helped Pam clean the kitchen and then excused herself for the night. Safely inside the guest room, she lay on the bed and smiled thinking about everyone she had fooled.

  ~ * ~

  Kathryn turned on the TV and watched the news. “Hmm,” she mumbled. “Of course there are no clues about Brad’s killer. They’ll never find any. Maybe when the second pedophile dies they’ll try to connect them, but I’ll keep them guessing. This case was cold before someone dialed 9-1-1.”

  She lay back on the pillow and wished Pam hadn’t insisted she spend the weekend. She’d rather be home plotting and planning her next move. She knew she’d never use a knife again. It was messy and not as quick as a gun.

  ~ * ~

  Thinking back on her life, she knew one incident could cause a person to take an entirely different path. Remembering the morning during the summer she turned fifteen; tears filled her eyes. Her mom had called her into the kitchen to let her know her grade school speech teacher Mr. Waters had passed away. Kathryn had done her best to try and forget Mr. Waters. She gripped the back of the kitchen chair and began to shake. Her mother noticed her behavior and became concerned.

  It was then Kathryn said the words she thought she would carry to her grave. “Mom, Mr. Waters wasn’t the great man you think he was even if he did help me to learn not to have a lisp. In first grade when I was six, he molested me.”

  Her mother stared at her and said, “What? Kathryn why didn’t you ever tell me? I would have reported it, and the police could have arrested him.”

  “I couldn’t, Mom. He said you and Pam would die just like daddy did, and I would be all alone.”

  Kathryn’s father had been killed in an auto accident the year before Mr. Waters began to abuse her. Mr. Waters used her greatest fear to keep her quiet. Kathryn’s mother found a psychologist to help Kathryn through what trauma she still felt. Suffering from o
ccasional panic attacks, the doctor helped her learn coping skills.

  Her life seemed to get better, and she began college. She met James, and they were inseparable. During her junior year, Kathryn’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Kathryn dropped out of school to help take care of her. When her mother died, she married James and hoped to have an ordinary life, but the panic attacks returned. James left her a year later. He said he needed space, and she caused too much drama in his life.

  Kathryn believed Mr. Waters was responsible for her mother’s death since the stress her mother felt may have caused her to avoid getting proper medical care. James left her because of her fears. Mr. Waters was dead, and there was nothing she could do. She applied for a job as a morgue assistant to support herself, and she enjoyed the peace in the morgue.

  Several months later, a little girl down the street was nearly abducted on her way home from school. The police caught and arrested the man, but he got off on a technicality. Kathryn swore she would do what she could to stop men who hurt children and women. The night she searched the internet for registered sex offenders in her and Pam’s neighborhoods was the night she made the decision to do what the law couldn’t. She would execute them.

  ~ * ~

  Lying in bed the next morning trying to ignore the sound of cartoons coming from the living room, Kathryn planned her next move. Even though the police believed her story, they had questioned her in more detail than she would have liked. She had doubts about using her personal gun. What if they traced it back to her? She needed a second gun, one that was untraceable. Where to find one would be her next obstacle, but she would find one. The security of the neighborhood children depended on it.

  Leah broke into Kathryn’s thoughts when she knocked on her door and called, “Aunt Katie, it’s time for breakfast. C’mon, Mom made waffles.”

  “Waffles, I’m coming,” Kathryn called.