Catherine had accomplished a lot with her life, she thought to herself as the miles rolled away. Driving through this remore stretch of south Georgia, she had plenty of time for reflection. Even finding a decent radio station to relieve the boredom had proved difficult.
Catherine was 38 years old, but could easily pass for ten years younger. She was petite, about 5'2", with short brown hair parted in the middle. She liked to work out regularly, and that kept her figure trim. Fortunately, most hotels where the company put her up had fitness centers available to her.
Catherine worked for a major retail company, scouting for sites for new locations. She was quite successful, and she took her work seriously. For starters, she did not want to be called "Cathy." For her, "Catherine" just sounded so much more business-like. She was careful about how she dressed. She was very pretty, and she didn't want the men in the company to think she got where she was by any means other than her ability. She rarely wore dresses and never wore anything that could be considered "revealing." Besides, she was happily married to the love of her life and intended to stay that way.
Just as she began to wonder where in the world she was supposed to find a site for a new drug store in this God-forsaken country, a loud popping noise from behind grabbed her attention and she suddenly lost control of her rental car. Pulling to the side of the road, she stopped and got out and, muttering a few obscenities, saw the gaping hole in the rear passenger side tire.
Catherine was a woman who could take care of herself. She opened the trunk to pull out the spare. The trunk was empty. Pulling out her cell phone, she tried to call someone in her company for help. In that remote area, her phone didn't work.
Shortly, a county sheriff's deputy pulled up behind her and stopped. Catherine was relieved as the deputy exited his car and approached her. But he cut her off when she started to explain about the flat tire. Sharply, he barked," Drivers license and registration."
She pulled her license out of her purse and handed it to him. Staring at the license and then at her, the deputy commented, "This can't be you in this picture. This woman is nowhere near as sexy as you are. You're under arrest for driving without a license. Turn around and put your hands on the trunk."
Catherine stood motionless, completely stunned. Grabbing her arms, the deputy spun her around and threw her against her car. In one quick motion, he had her wrists handcuffed. Before she could utter a word of protest, he had hustled her into the back of his squad car.
Within a few minutes, they arrived at what was apparently the county jail. With the assistance of a colleague waiting for them there, the arresting deputy forced Catherine into the facility.
Ignoring her repeated demands for an explanation, the arresting deputy curtly ordered her, "Strip. We have to do a strip search."
Catherine was taken completely aback by this development. But when the deputy forcefully repeated his demand, she knew she could do nothing but comply. She took off her shoes, jeans and blouse and then stood quietly in front of these two strange men, with her arms folded in front of her.