Cat lay snuggled in her bed happily, clutching Mr. Longneck. The world was good for Cat Valentine; she lived in a huge, air conditioned house in the Hollywood Hills, she had lots and lots of great friends, her parents loved her and her (unique) brother, and she could sing. She was a lucky, lucky girl.

Ca turned onto her side, pearly brown eyes shut as she listened to the sounds of her neighborhood outside the big glass window. There was the gentle whoosh of cars zooming past, even now late at night. There was the clickity-click of the air conditioners all around, hard at work to vanquish even the warmest summer breeze. Oh! There was Mrs. Henry's Chihuahua barking as she let him out to go potty.

Cat giggled. Dogs went potty on the lawn, how funny was that?

She listened some more, and heard a slightly less familiar sound. A siren. From a police car. She knew about police cars, of course, and had heard their sirens a lot of times. Usually when her brother got arrested. But never really this late at night, when her brother was gone (at his special doctor), and not in her neighborhood.

Cat held Mr. Longneck a little closer to her, and snuggled happily into her warm bed. Whoever that police man was chasing wasn't a good person, and obviously wasn't as lucky as Cat was. He probably didn't live in a nice house with a loving family and nice friends.

The siren wailed closer and closer, until it was near deafening, and Cat opened one of her eyes. Hmm. That was awfully loud, especially for someone who was trying to sleep. Policemen were very nice and everything, especially Tori's dad. And it was great that they were catching all the bad guys, like superheroes did, but did they have to be so noisy?

Finally, the siren stopped, and Cat lay her red head back down onto her pillow. That was better. She smiled again and closed her eyes, listening once more. Mrs. Henry's Chihuahua sure was going crazy, what was making him bark so loud?

Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, ding-dong.

Cat sat up again as her doorbell rang. Who would call on the Valentine's at such an hour? She got out of bed and heard her parents open the door. She slipped on a pair of pink slippers with her cupcake tank top and pink candy striped pajama shorts, checking the clock. Eleven forty six.

She opened her bedroom door, and padded downstairs sort of confused. She found her parents standing at the door, with their backs to Cat and talking with whomever it was who knocked.

"Whose there?" Cat asked, poking her mom in the belly. "Why is somebody here, mama?"

Mrs. Valentine turned around with a panic stricken face to her daughter, and Cat knew something was wrong.

"Just go on upstairs, back to bed baby," Mrs. Valentine nudged her away from the door.

"Is that her?" A deep male voice asked from outside. "Is that Cat Valentine?"

"What do you want from her?" Mr. Valentine asked, sort of desperately. "I'm telling you, she didn't do this. She's a good girl."

"What is it?" Cat asked, trying hard not to cry. She always cried when she was scared.

"Please step away from the door, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine," the deep voice said again. When neither of them budged, he continued. "Step away from the door, or I will issue force to get into your house. I have a warrant."

Cat's parents exchanged panicked looks, and then complied. Mrs. Valentine took her daughter's arm, and held Cat close to her as a police man and woman came inside. They wore blue uniforms, and had guns strapped to their belts. Outside the police car that had woken Cat up was parked.

"I'm telling you," Mr. Valentine said. "My daughter didn't do this, she'd never try to ki-"

"Look, how about we sit down and lay out the facts?" the man said. He was tall and dark, and had a shiny bald head. His nametag read Officer Paul.

"It would be for the best," his partner added. She was a lean blonde woman with pale skin and blue eyes.

"Fine," Mrs. Valentine nodded, and she gripped Cat's arm tighter as they walked into the sitting room.

"What's going on?" Cat whispered innocently to her mother.

"Just hush, baby," Mrs. Valentine said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Everything's okay."

Cat nodded and sat down in between her mother and father on the white pristine couch. The police officers sat down at the one opposite them.

"Here's what we know," the woman officer spoke up. "Two months ago, an old woman called the San Diego police officers because her house was being burning to the ground, and she couldn't escape. By the time the fire department rescued her, she was uninjured but had suffered some smoke annihilation, enough to make her confused. All she could say was that a cat with red fur had tried to break in, and it was this cat's fault that the house was burnt down. Obviously, we thought she had suffered brain damage.

"However, she has been issued treatment and recovered mostly. She sticks to the story that a redheaded teenager named Cat was the one who started the fire, purposely and with a Cinnamon Bun scented candle. We recovered that the source of the fire was indeed a Cinnamon Bun candle set on the porch, and police analysis has confirmed that the fingerprints on the candle match your daughters."

"Th-that's preposterous," Mrs. Valentine said. "Cat has never, ever tried to harm anybody."

"Cat," the male officer asked in his scary voice. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure," Cat squeaked, gripping the edge of the couch with sweaty hands. Uh-Oh.

"Did you drive to this woman's house?"

"Yes," Cat said. "Well, I didn't drive because I don't have my license and neither does Tori. So we asked Jade to drive us, but Jade only drives at night so we didn't think she'd say yes. But then she did and Tori and I were really happy! So we took my brother's car, which wasn't a good choice because the button to put the top up was stuck and it started to rain and he replaced the seatbelts with rope and he had a bag of feet in his-"

"Please," the officer interrupted. "One word answers will suffice; Yes or no."

Cat nodded. "Yes."

"Did you walk onto Mona Patterson's property at nearly eleven p.m.?"

"Yes."

"Did you do this knowing the circumstances? Did you know where you where and what you were doing at the time?"

"Yes, of course."

"So you weren't on any unauthorized medication? You weren't drinking?"

"No!"

"Did you put a lit Cinnamon Bun scented candle on the wooden porch?"

"I-"

"Yes or no, Cat?"

"Yes, but-"

"Cat Valentine," he interrupted, standing up and clicking his handcuffs. "You're under arrest for arson and attempted murder of Mona Patterson."

Note: How do you like it so far? Worth continuing? Review and let me know, 143!