A moment later, an officer walked in.
"Whoa, lady. Put some clothes on," he said, holding his hand over his eyes. He looked over and saw a dirty sweat-stained T-shirt and a pair of dirty jeans and grabbed them. Then he threw them over to the woman. "Put those on," he said.
What he didn't realize was that those clothes belonged to a man named Brick Harrison, a wanted murderer who was just captured that morning. Of course, it wouldn't make any difference if he did know. He couldn't have known what would happen next, either way.
Lydia Harrison looked up at the cop and smiled, sadistically. She knew who she was now and what she was.
She jumped up suddenly and slugged him in the face. When he was down, she took his gun and shot him, killing him. Then she spit on him. "Fucking cop."
Elsewhere, Officer Maybourn was searching the precinct for the missing woman. During his search, he went into the cell wing of the station.
"Hey, how did I get in here?" Brick asked. He was in one of the cells. "I ... I don't remember."
Officer Maybourn was equally mystified. He knew about all the people who had been arrested since the previous night. He didn't remember this guy getting arrested. Who was he anyway? Something odd was going on.
Officer Chase was running Lydia's prints through the system. At first, nothing came up. But then she blinked and the computer screen changed.
"Lydia Harrison?" she asked aloud, staring at her screen. How could she not have known it was her? Every cop knows that murderer's face.
