Chapter 15 #3
"Ms. Potter is trying to ensure her client receives due process," Judge Farinholt interrupted. "Which is her job. Now, I've reviewed her motion, and I have some questions. But first—" He looked at the assistant district attorney. "Mr. Barrish, what charges are being brought against Mr. Ironforge?"
Barrish stood, looking uncomfortable. "Murder in the first degree, Your Honor. The state alleges that Mr. Ironforge killed Stephen Bentley—"
"Where was the body found?" Judge Farinholt asked.
Barrish hesitated. "On Orc land, Your Honor."
"That's not accurate, Your Honor," I said, rising to my feet. "If I may?"
Judge Farinholt gestured for me to continue.
I pulled the topographical map from my briefcase and approached the bench, my heels clicking against the courtroom floor.
"The Sheriff's department believes the body may have fallen from Blackberry Ridge, which is Orc territory.
" I spread the map across the judge's bench, my finger tracing the relevant boundaries.
"However, the body was actually discovered in Oakleaf Gorge—which is federal land.
The distinction is critical to jurisdiction in this case. "
Behind me, I heard Dawson's chair creak as he shifted forward. His face had gone red, the color creeping up from his collar.
"The ridge is Orc land—"
I didn't let him finish. "But the body wasn't found on the ridge, Sheriff." I kept my voice level, professional. "It was found at the bottom of the gorge by your own incident report. Federal land."
Judge Farinholt leaned back in his chair, his fingers coming together in a steeple. The gesture was deliberate, controlled—a man considering the weight of what he'd just heard. He gave me a curt nod, dismissing me to return to the defense table.
"Federal land." Judge Farinholt let the words hang in the air for a moment. "When was the body discovered?"
Barrish fumbled through the documents in front of him, papers rustling. "October 26th, Your Honor. By hikers, who reported it to Sheriff Dawson's office."
The judge's reading glasses slid down his nose as he studied the map I'd laid before him. The silence stretched. I heard the clock on the wall ticking, each second marking Dawson's jurisdiction slipping away.
Finally, Farinholt looked up. "So let me make sure I understand. A body was discovered on federal land, but instead of being reported to federal authorities, it was investigated by local law enforcement. Is that correct?"
Dawson half-rose from his seat, his hand gripping the edge of the prosecution table. "The crime occurred in our jurisdiction—"
"Did it?" Judge Farinholt's gaze sharpened, pinning Dawson in place. "Do you have evidence that Mr. Bentley was killed somewhere other than where his body was found?"
Dawson's jaw clenched so hard I saw the muscle jumping beneath his skin. "We're still investigating—"
"So you don't know where he was killed."
The sheriff's face darkened further. "What we do know is that Mr. Ironforge confessed."
My stomach dropped. Kael went rigid, his breathing changing. I didn't look at him—couldn't afford to break my focus—but I felt the shift in his energy like a physical thing.
Judge Farinholt's eyebrows rose. "I see no confession in the record before me."
"When we arrived at the Orc village to arrest his brother, Argon Ironforge, Mr. Ironforge admitted he was responsible for Bentley's death." Dawson's voice carried a note of triumph, but his hands were shaking slightly as he gestured.
I was already on my feet. "Your Honor, that's a gross mischaracterization—"
Dawson spoke over me, his voice rising. "His brother was our primary suspect. Argon Ironforge had motive—he wanted to mate with the victim's ex, Tori Wesley. We had reason to believe either Argon killed Bentley himself, or ordered his brother to do it."
Judge Farinholt held up one hand. The simple gesture commanded instant silence.
"And what was Mr. Ironforge's exact statement?"
Dawson hesitated. The pause was brief, but damning. "He said he was responsible."
"Sheriff Dawson." I stepped forward, my voice firm and clear.
"As you recall, my client said, and I quote, 'you have the wrong brother'.
He never confessed to killing anyone. And you know that.
" I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a stack of affidavits.
"I offer signed statements attesting to what my client said when Sheriff Dawson showed up at the wedding of his brother Argon and Tori Wesley.
Dawson's face flushed deeper, moving from red toward purple. "He was clearly—"
"Do you have this confession recorded, Sheriff?" Judge Farinholt asked.
The silence that followed felt like it had weight. Physical mass. I could feel it pressing down on the courtroom, on Dawson's shoulders, on the prosecution's entire case.
The sheriff's mouth opened. Closed. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"No, Your Honor." The admission came out strangled.
"I see." Judge Farinholt's expression hardened, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "Continue, Ms. Potter."
I reached into my briefcase, pulling out the medical examiner's report.
My hands were steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.
"There is no evidence connecting my client to Mr. Bentley's death.
In fact, the medical examiner's report conclusively shows that Mr. Bentley died from injuries consistent with a fall from significant height.
" I held up the document. "Accidental death, Your Honor. Not murder."
Judge Farinholt extended his hand.
I walked forward and placed the report in his palm, acutely aware of Dawson's furious gaze boring into my back. The weight of his stare was almost physical, but I kept my shoulders square, my movements unhurried.
The judge read in silence. The only sounds in the courtroom were the rustle of pages turning and that relentless clock marking time. Barrish shifted in his seat. Dawson's breathing had gone audible, harsh and angry.
Finally, Farinholt looked up.
"Mr. Barrish." The ADA straightened at his name. "Does the state have any evidence contradicting the medical examiner's report?"
Barrish glanced at Dawson, who was practically vibrating with rage, his whole body taut as a wire about to snap. "We're waiting for additional testing—"
"So that's a no." Judge Farinholt set the report down with deliberate care. "Ms. Potter, your motion argues that this entire investigation has been conducted outside Sheriff Dawson's jurisdiction."
This was it. The moment I'd been preparing for since that first night at the cabin.
I took a breath and began.
"Yes, your Honor. The law is clear. When a body is discovered on federal land, jurisdiction falls to federal authorities.
Sheriff Dawson had no legal authority to investigate this death, no authority to interrogate my client, and no authority to make an arrest. Every piece of evidence he's collected is inadmissible due to the Exclusionary Rule because it was obtained outside his jurisdiction. "
I pulled out another document, my fingers trembling slightly.
This was the important part. "Furthermore, Sheriff Dawson has no jurisdiction on Orc land.
Five years ago, the federal government designated specific parcels of land for the exclusive use and governance of the Orc people, similar to Native American reservations.
This type of land grant infers sovereignty which allows the Orcs, like Native Americans to govern themselves within the borders of the United States.
As such Orc land is governed by Chieftain Ruka under sovereign law, not local law. "
Barrish shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. "Your Honor, that's a stretch—"
"Is it?" I turned to face him, not giving him space to continue.
"The legal precedent is well-established.
Just as state law enforcement has no jurisdiction on tribal land without specific agreements or federal involvement, Sheriff Dawson has no jurisdiction on sovereign Orc land.
The body was found on federal land adjacent to Orc territory.
Any investigation should have been conducted by federal authorities or under Chieftain Ruka's governance.
Sheriff Dawson had no legal standing to be there, let alone conduct an investigation and make an arrest."
I placed the land designation documents on the judge's bench with a soft thud that seemed to echo. "These are the original federal land grants, Your Honor. Every action Sheriff Dawson has taken has been a violation of Orc sovereignty."
Judge Farinholt picked up the documents. His eyebrows climbed as he read, his expression shifting from neutral to something harder to read.
"Sheriff Dawson." His voice was quiet, but it carried. "Were you aware that you were operating on sovereign Orc land?"
Dawson's jaw clenched. "That land is in my county—"
"That's not what I asked you."
"That's a lie!" Dawson exploded out of his chair, his voice cracking. "Your Honor, this woman is trying to—"
"Sheriff Dawson." Judge Farinholt's voice cut through the outburst like a blade, sharp and absolute. "You will sit down and be quiet, or I will have you removed from my courtroom. Is that clear?"
Dawson's face had gone purple now, a vein throbbing visibly at his temple. But he sat. The chair creaked under the force of his movement.
Barrish tried again, his voice strained. "Your Honor, this is outrageous—"
"Is it?" I turned to face him fully, letting the question hang. "Is it outrageous to expect law enforcement to follow the law? Is it outrageous to demand that my client be afforded the same rights as any other citizen? Or is it only outrageous when the client in question is an Orc?"
The courtroom went silent. Even the clock seemed to pause.
Judge Farinholt looked at Dawson, then at me, then down at the documents spread across his bench.