37

It was late afternoon when Nick returned to his office from questioning Jason Settman. Tim’s alibi had checked out on three levels. First, Jason was with Tim at Tim’s house the morning of Julie’s death. Tim’s truck battery had died, so he’d gone next door to Jason’s trailer to get a jump. The jump didn’t work. The battery was a goner. So, Jason drove Tim into town to the Napa store, where they bought a new battery.

The alibi was confirmed a second time by Jason’s wife, Ashley, who was also home at the time and made coffee for Tim, and stated that he didn’t leave their house until well after eight AM.

A third person corroborated Tim’s alibi when Nick checked into the Napa battery purchase with the store owner. Tim had made a purchase at Napa that coordinated with the approximate time of the murder. The store owner recalled the event and a description of Tim. He also provided a sales record with Tim’s credit card receipt. It all stacked up in a provable manner just as Tim and Jason had said.

Now what?

Nick wasn’t exactly sure “now what.” With the autopsy completed, the toxicology reports back, the bracelet found, and the GoPro video explained, there was no more physical evidence to draw from. Had he reached a dead end? Would Julie end up a Freeport cold case?

Nick retired to his office to think, and instructed his team to do the same. He paced restlessly, squeezing a tennis ball between his palms. He was hungry and ornery. All his hard work on this case had amounted to very little progress. What and who were they missing?

On top of this, Nick knew he had to follow up with the senator about Mercedes’ abuse. His stomach sank at the thought. Other than Tim’s accusation, he had no physical proof that the senator had paid Tim to perform the incidents. He would be hard-pressed to make an arrest, and doubted the senator would make a confession. Perhaps he should talk to Gary Bodum about it first. Gary should know.

Finally emerging from his office, Nick set some paperwork on his secretary’s desk so she could file it in the morning. It was then that he remembered his secretary had left early to take care of a sick child. It would be another hour before the night secretary started her shift, and the other cops on duty were off on street patrol. Being the only one at the police station, Nick needed to stick around until the secretary arrived. He was heading back to his office to return some emails when he heard the door open from the outside and footsteps clomp toward the reception area. He turned and saw the figure of Senator Dobson through the sliding glass reception window that overlooked the police pen.

“Hello! Hey! Larson! Larson!” yelled the senator. Nick was already walking toward the reception desk. “Why wasn’t I informed about my daughter’s toxicology results?” the senator demanded through the glass separation window. “Sheriff, you better have some answers for me!”

“Senator Dobson, calm down,” Nick said through the glass.

“My daughter’s report? Where is it? And why didn’t someone contact us?”

“Senator. Please. Calm down.”

“I will not! I’m at my own daughter’s wake, and I hear she had drugs in her system! You’d better produce that report. Now!” His anger and pain permeated through the glass, which Nick refused to unlock.

“I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did. I can assure you, it wasn’t our agency that released the official toxicology report.”

The ruffled senator collected himself, straightened his jacket, and snugged up his tie. He nodded at Nick. “Open this window.”

Nick shook his head. The senator pounded his fist on the window. “Open it! You son of a bitch!”

Definitely not, thought Nick, taking a careful step back. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for the senator to calm down.

“I’m in a public position, and this is making me look very vulnerable right now. Reporters are outside my house asking me about Julie’s drug habit. What drug habit?”

“I can’t speak to Julie having a drug habit,” said Nick diplomatically.

“Those reporters say you’ve got Tim Hart arrested up here on selling drugs to a minor. My minor.”

“Tim was selling drugs to a good number of young people in this community.”

“I can’t have these rumors circulating about my daughter. I need you to make this go away.”

Nick did not appreciate being ordered around. “Was Julie taking drugs?”

“No,” Senator Dobson said firmly.

“You’re sure?” Nick asked him.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Why is it that parents are often the last to know? Nick let a few moments of silence build up between them. The senator loosened his tie and started pacing in front of the window. After a moment, he stopped and sat in one of the orange vinyl waiting room chairs that should have been replaced three decades ago. Nick moved toward the window but did not open it.

“Toxicology lab found ketamine in her system. Tim Hart confessed to selling it to Julie from Bodum’s stable stash,” Nick told the senator. “Tim was the man in the viral video, and he says you hired him to score Mercedes’ legs. How do you plead to that?”

The senator sat there as the information sank in. After a moment he responded with a tormented look, his voice cracking, “He killed her, didn’t he? That groom killed my little girl.”

“No, he didn’t. His alibi checks out,” said Nick. “But maybe I should be investigating you.”

The senator sent a seething look to Nick. “What are you implying, Sheriff?”

“That you lawyer up.”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Equine abuse. To start.”

“With what proof?” His chin tipped up in a defensive manner.

“Tim’s statement is rather damaging.” Nick wasn’t about to give him specifics. But he did want to make the senator squirm.

“I wanted only the best for my daughter … I invested everything for her future … how dare you—” He pinched off his words and straightened his shoulders. Nick knew he was smart enough to guard his statements.

“What were you hoping to accomplish when you paid Tim to torment an innocent creature?” Nick pressed.

The senator’s stare never left Nick as an angry resolve filled his eyes. “What happens to our property and our family is none of your concern.”

“Actually, it is. Your daughter’s death is being investigated as a homicide. Your life should be a wide-open book to me.”

Nick had known many parents who would go pretty far to protect their children’s best interests, but the senator’s actions had crossed the criminal line. He didn’t care what Dobson thought of him.

“I’m innocent,” the senator retorted, “and I’m not letting this story spin out of control. Tim Hart is a drug dealer, and I’m going to make sure the public knows he’s corrupting their children.”

“You’re behind the eight ball, Senator.” No amount of backpedaling was going to influence Nick.

“Julie was a double victim here. A young, impressionable girl and first-time offender who was lured in by a convicted criminal.” Senator Dobson was already spinning the story. “I’ll have my press secretary send you a draft tonight, and your office will release it.”

“You’re the one I’m hunting here, Senator.” Nick said. “I want to know every detail of your involvement in mutilating a poor creature for your daughter’s gain. If I were you, I wouldn’t go public with anything right now. I would lay low. Real low. Because you’re under suspicion for bribery and cruelty to animals. Be expecting a subpoena,” said Nick, rising. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish up with a few things.”

Nick stood there and waited as the senator rose coolly from his seat without a word. The senator knew better than to argue his case right now. It wasn’t politically savvy. Nick could see the wheels turning in the man’s head as he formed his last statement carefully, making sure to posture himself authoritatively in front of the glass separation window as he pointed a long finger at Nick.

“You have no evidence or reasonable witnesses from which to draw any accusation against me. Don’t waste taxpayer money on trumped-up indictments, because I’ll make sure the media gets that story too. And you won’t be sheriff of Freeport County for very long.”

“Good night, Senator.” Nick refused to be intimidated.

“Good night, Sheriff,” the senator said as exited the lobby of the police station.

Nick was now sure that Tim’s story had legitimacy. Tragic as Julie’s death was, Nick took silent comfort in the fact that she would never know what her father had done to her beloved horse. He would definitely get Bodum’s statement on this too. He wanted to make sure the senator could never get to Mercedes ever again.

Meanwhile, Julie’s killer was still out there, and Nick was out of leads. He had forty minutes before the night secretary would arrive. He went into the kitchen and made himself a turkey and cheddar sandwich, grabbed a handful of potato chip pieces from the bottom of a nearly empty bag, and popped open a can of energy drink. He went back to his office and pulled up Julie’s social media accounts for a third or maybe fourth time. He kept trolling them for any comment, tag, photo, or emoji that might give him some clue.

Nick paused on a photo of Julie at a competition, sitting atop Mercedes. She wore a first-place medal, a huge smile and a … a riding helmet. Had Julie always worn a helmet when she was riding? And had she been wearing a helmet the day she died? The injuries she had sustained were located at the base of the skull, which would have would have been protected by a helmet. But Julie’s helmet wasn’t with her body when Farmer Gibbons drove her to the stable. It wasn’t in her bedroom. It wasn’t in Mercedes’ pen or anywhere in the stable. In fact, no one had even mentioned it. So where was it? Or who had it?

Nick thought back to when Farmer Gibbon’s had showed him where he’d found Julie’s body. It was lying next to a large rock on the bank of the creek. It made sense now. The killer had placed Julie’s body near a rock to make it look like she had fallen off her horse and hit her head. Why hadn’t he put this together before? He needed to find that helmet. Emily had not mentioned any method by which Julie had sustained her injuries. He needed to know exactly what had crushed Julie’s skull.