“I’m the only one in my immediate family who managed to build a normal life,” Cathy said, a hint of defensive pride threading through her grief.“Brittany tried, she really did, but her...condition made it hard for her to maintain relationships, hold down regular jobs.”
Brookman shifted his weight, arms still crossed over his chest.“Ms.Perkins, you mentioned you flew down from Buffalo.What brought you to DC today specifically?”
Cathy looked down at her hands, now twisted together in her lap.“Brittany called me, out of the blue, a few days ago.Asked me to come visit her.”
“That’s unusual?”Riley asked, though the answer seemed evident.
“Very.”Cathy swallowed hard.“We hadn’t spoken in almost a year.We had a falling out last Christmas.That’s when the photo was taken.I invited her to Buffalo to spend the holidays with my family, and she...well, she had an episode.Scared my kids, broke some things.My husband asked her to leave.”She shook her head.“I tried to call her afterward, to check on her, but she wouldn’t pick up.Eventually, I stopped trying.”
Riley leaned forward slightly.“When she called you recently, did she seem like she might be in some kind of trouble?”
“That’s the strangest part,” Cathy said, her brow furrowing.“She sounded better than I’d heard her in years.Calm.Centered.She said she’d ‘turned a corner’ and wanted to make peace with me.”
“Turned a corner?”Ann Marie echoed, exchanging a significant look with Riley.The building superintendent had used those exact words to describe Brittany’s recent behavioral change.
“Those were her words, yes.She said she’d found something that helped her control her impulses, that she was making progress in a way she never had before.”Cathy gestured helplessly at the paper menagerie surrounding them.“I guess this was part of it.Though she never mentioned origami or any kind of hobby.”
“She specifically invited you to visit?”Riley prompted.
Cathy nodded.“Said she wanted us to reconnect, to be sisters again.I was skeptical, honestly—Brittany had periods of improvement before, but they never lasted.Still, something in her voice sounded...different this time.”Her voice broke.“So I booked a flight.Landed at Reagan this morning, rented a car, came straight here.”
The reality of the situation seemed to finally crash over Cathy then.Her face crumpled, and she buried it in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.Ann Marie moved immediately to the sofa, sitting beside Cathy and placing a comforting hand on her back.
“I’m so sorry,” Ann Marie murmured, her voice carrying the practiced comfort of someone who had guided countless families through the first stages of grief.“Take all the time you need.”
Riley watched as Ann Marie’s gentle presence worked its magic—magic that Ann Marie had learned from growing up around her father’s mortuary.Cathy’s breathing gradually steadied, and after a few moments, she raised her tear-streaked face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.“It’s just hitting me that she’s really gone.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Ann Marie assured her.“This is an enormous shock.”
With the same gentle skill that Riley had observed Ann Marie employ many times before, the younger agent guided the conversation forward.“Cathy, if you feel up to it, we’d like to understand more about your sister’s mental health.It could help us understand what happened.”
Cathy nodded, drawing a deep breath.“Brittany was diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder in her twenties.”She glanced at Riley and Brookman.“It’s a condition where—”
“She had difficulty controlling aggressive impulses,” Riley finished, connecting the diagnosis to the building superintendent’s description of Brittany’s confrontational behavior.“Episodes of rage or aggression disproportionate to the situation.”
“Yes, exactly,” Cathy confirmed.“She’d be fine for weeks, then something would trigger her—often something small, insignificant—and she’d just...explode.Screaming, throwing things, sometimes getting physical.Afterward, she’d be mortified, full of remorse.She tried medication and therapy, but nothing seemed to work long-term.”
“Is that why she moved around so much?”Ann Marie asked.
“She never stayed in one place more than a couple of years,” Cathy agreed.“She’d have an incident, alienate everyone around her, then start fresh somewhere new.She was brilliant with computers—could always find remote work—but maintaining personal relationships was nearly impossible for her.”
“And yet she called you recently,” Riley noted.“Saying she’d improved.”
“She sounded like a different person on the phone,” Cathy said, shaking her head in lingering disbelief.“Said she’d been practicing techniques that were helping her manage her impulses.I was skeptical, but hopeful.”
Riley’s mind flashed to Rachel Bennett, whose husband had described a similar transformation.Two women with different mental health conditions, both suddenly finding stability, both taking up origami, both murdered in the same distinctive way.The connection was unmistakable.
“Cathy,” Ann Marie asked gently, “did Brittany mention participating in any kind of therapy program recently?Support groups?A new doctor?”
“No, nothing like that.Though honestly, we didn’t talk details.The call was brief—she just wanted to know if I would come visit, said she had something important to share with me in person.”Cathy glanced around the apartment again.“I guess maybe it was this?Her newfound skill with paper folding?”
Brookman spoke up again.“Ms.Perkins, I know you’ll want to go through your sister’s belongings, but I have to inform you that this apartment is still an active crime scene.”
“Of course,” Cathy said, wiping at her eyes.“When will I be able to...you know, take care of her things?”
“Later this evening, most likely,” Brookman replied.“We should be finished processing the scene by then.In the meantime, I’d suggest checking into a hotel nearby.”
