Chapter 32
Officer Nolan
When I pulled up in front of Nicole Kolter’s house, the street was the usual chaos of a nighttime crime scene. Blue and red lights reflected against siding and trees, turning a quiet neighborhood into something out of a TV show.
Police cars and EMT vans blocked the road. A few curious neighbors stood on their porches with messy hair.
What was unusual was the large crowd of officers and EMTs blocking the view of the Kolters’ house. Just standing there. Shoulder to shoulder. No movement.
When I received the call in the middle of the night from local police to come to Nicole Kolter’s home, I didn’t know what to make of it. But as I got out of the car and slowly approached the crime scene, things started to make sense.
In all the worst ways.
I walked up and tapped the first officer blocking my path.
“Let me through, please,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
He turned quickly. Late thirties. Tired eyes. Clean-shaven.
His gaze caught mine, then dropped to my badge as I held it up. He hesitated, then he stepped aside.
I had to repeat it a few more times. Over and over. An ocean of cops and EMTs slowly parting in front of me, like Moses with a badge instead of a staff.
I thought I was prepared for what I would find. By now, I knew anything involving Nicole Kolter meant a wild ride. That woman turned into a grizzly bear when it came to her kids.
But when the last row of EMTs and officers stepped aside and let me through, my body betrayed me.
I stumbled back in shock.
About twenty feet away, Nicole was sitting on her front lawn in a bloodied nightgown. Her leg was twisted at an angle no leg should ever be. Broken. No doubt about it. And blood drenched the lower half of her face, dripping slowly onto her chest. The pain must have been unbearable.
Beside her sat the biggest Doberman I had ever seen in my life. A beast. Maybe a hundred and forty pounds? More?
It was guarding her. Not letting anyone close.
Its mouth was covered in blood—but not Nicole’s. If it were, Nicole wouldn’t be sitting next to it.
The beast sat there perfectly still. Alert. Its eyes locked on me. Like it was daring: Do it and see what happens.
Right behind them stood a man in his fifties. Unshaven, in boxers. A down jacket zipped halfway. He looked small somehow. A kid trapped in a grown man’s body with no idea what to do next.
I ran a hand through my hair.
This woman. Dear God. How the hell did she end up in this situation? She was one of the kindest souls I knew. Fierce and loyal. A nightmare when crossed, sure, but she didn’t deserve this.
“Fucking Christ,” I said.
I dragged my hand over my face, then looked up at her again.
“The EMTs can’t help her unless someone gets the dog,” an officer explained. “It looks like the dog won’t leave unless the victim tells her to. And the victim refuses to do so.”
I glanced over. His name tag read Mark Ellison. Low voice. Military haircut.
“We also can’t shoot it as long as the owner and the victim won’t move,” he added.
My eyes snapped to his. “Shoot the dog? For what?”
He quickly added, “Of course we wouldn’t do that.” His eyes flicked to the other officers, a silent exchange passing between them. “We also thought about bringing in one of our K9 units.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “And do what, exactly? Incite a dog fight?” My voice rose despite myself. “Are we all gonna place bets while this beast snaps our K9 unit in half?”
A few of the cops looked away. One EMT shifted uncomfortably. Nobody argued.
“Freaking idiots.” I looked back at Nicole. Over the radio, they’d told me she’d been attacked but was doing fine.
This was not fine.
“Nicole, we need to get you to a hospital. Your leg and your nose look broken.”
She winced as she shifted an inch. Her chin lifted, her eyes steady.
“They are,” she said.
I nodded. I tried to stay calm and adjust strategies.
“Are you the owner?” I asked, turning to the man standing behind them.
“Y-yes.”
“Can you please take the dog back to your house?”
He shrugged helplessly. “Ginny won’t move. And I can’t carry a hundred and forty pounds that far with my bad back.”
I gave another nod. “Is there anyone who can help? Someone the dog will listen to?”
“My wife,” he said, pointing two houses down.
I followed his finger. In the window, an older woman stood in a flowered nightgown, arms crossed tight over her chest, face hard as stone as she stared back at us.
“But?” I prompted.
“But she said she won’t move Ginny until Mrs. Kolter says it’s okay.”
I exhaled slowly. “I see.”
I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Nicole,” I said in a kind tone. “We need to get you checked out by the EMTs.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Whatever happened here tonight, I need to get on it. Find who did this. And I need to know you’re being taken care of while I do. So, please, can we send the dog back home?”
Her eyes lifted to mine. Sharp and clear.
“Well,” she said, “first of all, Ginny can go wherever she wants. She’s not on a leash.”
That did nothing to calm me. Not with a dog that size sitting like it had been placed there with a death order.
“She’s really friendly,” Nicole went on. “She just wants to make sure I’m safe.”
“You are safe,” I said.
Her laugh came out dry and short.
“Yeah. Really safe. You all did an excellent job.”
I pressed my lips together. “I mean, you’re safe now,” I tried again.
“Am I?” she asked. “Because the last time I checked, I was almost murdered by the same man who killed Zach. The one on the gas station video. Covered in blood. The one Mrs. Dustin warned us about.” Her eyes never left mine.
“The same man Thomas Harlow and his lap dog, Deputy Attorney General Kara Belmont, said shouldn’t be looked into. ”
She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to.
“The same man with the scar on his forehead.” She tipped her head slightly toward Mr. Warner.
“The same man Mr. Warner saw here tonight. Brown eyes. Big scar on his forehead. And now,” she added, petting Ginny, “he’s got bite marks all over him. Makes him easier to find now, doesn’t it?”
I held her gaze.
She wasn’t ranting. She wasn’t spiraling. She was setting the record straight.
The system had failed her. Failed her family. Failed in a way that couldn’t be undone. And, if I was honest, it felt like I had failed her too.
I lowered myself onto the ground so we were level. The wet, cold grass soaked through my pants, but I didn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Nicole,” I said. No badge voice. No script. “I really am so, so sorry.”
She looked at me as if she was weighing something. As if she needed to know if I meant it or if this was just a show. Then her iron expression softened a little.
“What can I do to help you?” I asked. “To get you taken care of?”
Her chin lifted, proud even as she winced in pain. God, she was so strong.
“I want the same thing I’ve been asking for since these useless idiots arrived,” she said, nodding toward the police officers.
The idiot next to me, the one who’d wanted to shoot the dog, opened his mouth. I cut him off with a look.
“And what is that?” I asked.
“Do their job. They refuse to take Mr. Warner’s statement about the man with the scar. Probably following the attorney general’s orders.”
I turned my head slowly toward Officer Ellison. His eyes dropped to the ground immediately.
“And as long as they refuse,” Nicole continued in a calm voice, “I will sit right here with Ginny until the reporters arrive.”
Officer Ellison threw a nod over his shoulder and asked, “Sir, can I talk to you in private?” But that wasn’t necessary. I already knew what was up.
Thomas Harlow.
He was most likely getting informed about anything related to Nicole. Any police calls. Prison visits. He must have been informed the moment the call about this attack came in. Then gave his direct orders. Nicole was 100 percent right on this.
Damn it.
I let it all settle in.
This damn case could cost me my career. I knew that. But one look at Nicole, covered in blood, still fighting like hell for what was right, told me everything I needed to know. To finally do the right thing.
“Sir? Can I talk to you?” Officer Ellison asked again.
“No,” I said.
Ellison blinked, thrown off.
“Take Mr. Warner’s statement,” I ordered.
“But—”
“I said take his damn statement,” I cut in. “Or I will personally have you investigated for refusing protocol and crime scene procedures. Now get your fucking pen and paper out and do your job.”
He glanced around for backup. None came. Every officer suddenly found something else to look at.
I turned back to Nicole. “Can Ginny please go home now?” I nodded toward the window, where the hard-faced woman was still watching. “So the EMTs can check you out while Officer Ellison takes Mr. Warner’s statement?”
Nicole studied me for a long moment. Long enough to decide if trust was worth the risk.
Then she reached for Ginny, wrapped her arms around the dog’s thick chest, and whispered something into her ear.
She looked up at Mr. Warner. “Please tell Emma she can get Ginny. Ask her to keep a cloth with some of the blood from Ginny’s mouth for me in case the police do a shitty job with this as well. And please thank her for me. From the bottom of my heart. I’ll never forget her kindness. Or Ginny’s.”
He hurried off, and a few moments later, a sharp whistle echoed through the night from the Warners’ house.
Ginny lifted her head, then took off. She darted toward her home, startling the officers and EMTs.
Then she was gone.
The EMTs dropped to their knees next to Nicole, who was now groaning in pain as if she were finally allowed to be human again. Their hands were moving quickly now that the huge beast was finally gone.
I stood there and watched in awe. Nicole Kolter was a woman who made the saying “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” feel painfully accurate.
She’d gotten her way. She could finally receive medical treatment and give her testimony that might tip the scales in the fight. Not just for justice but for survival. Hers and her daughter’s.
But as happy-ending as it all sounded, I already knew what would come next.
Thomas Harlow wouldn’t give up. Not quietly. He would fight her with everything he had.
And in this country, the court system didn’t belong to the innocent. It belonged to those with power. And money.
But now he’d have to fight me too. At least with whatever authority and leverage I still had left. Whatever stood within my power to help Nicole find the real killer.