The Psychopath Maker

Chapter Twenty

     Isabeth didn't know how but the word of her midnight ride got back to Mrs. Valens. Now, she was ankle-deep in horse crap. She breathed through her mouth as the shovel scraped against the concrete. She stepped on the shovel's neck and pushed it underneath a heap of feces-covered hay. She gripped the handle, lifted the mound, and dumped the excrements in a wheel barrel. Isabeth huffed blowing up a stray piece of hair that hung in her face.

      "Seven down. Five more to go." She propped the shovel against the stall wall then looked down at her boots. She groaned with an eye roll. "This is more than apples and sugar cubes."

     "Isabeth Ovien?" A robust voice rumbled her name over the neighing and nickering of twelve horses.

     Isabeth looked up perplexed. She got that sneaking Kerma out in the middle of the night was breaking Mrs. Valens' rules and she broke curfew but who called the police. Fulton. His name flashed in her mind. She placed her hand on the stall wall for balance since her knees were failing her. He knows, her conscious whispered.

     "Are you Isabeth Ovien?" The man in the Kyren sheriff's uniform asked.

      She bit her lip. This was the only time she didn't want to be herself. "Yes." She mumbled. "She is me." She shook her head swallowing the bile that surged up her throat. "I'm Isabeth." She regained her voice's normal key. "What can I help you with, Sheriff..." She read the man's badge. "Washington?"

      Washington narrowed his eyes at Isabeth and she quickly looked away. You look guilty, her conscience told her. She closed her mouth and breathed through her nose. The stench filling the air sent her into a coughing fit. Now, you really look guilty.

      "Are you okay?" Washington asked stepping further in the stall. He reached out to her and she backed up bumping into the wall.

      "I'm fine!" Isabeth heaved out between breaths. "I'm fine." She repeated holding up her hands. Washington backed up as she wiped away a tear rolling from her eye. "What do you want me for?"

      "You're a friend of Kevin Tomilson, right?" Washington reached behind him and produced a notepad.

      "Why are you asking?" Isabeth asked keeping her back against the wall. She folded her arms. The state-issued uniform contoured firmly around the man's muscular body proving that he was a fan of fitness.

       Washington pulled a pen out his front pocket and clicked it, "Your friend was murdered and it's my job to find out who murdered him. That seems like something you'd want to be solved. He was your friend, right." He stopped writing and looked up from the notepad.

       "Yes, he's my friend." Isabeth read the number on his badge. "Are you supposed to be asking me questions without my parents...or my lawyer?"

        Good one. Now you really look guilty of something. Her conscience chided. Isabeth folded her arms tighter causing her shoulders to curve forward.

     "Well, actually... I'm not." Washington flipped the notepad closed and clicked the pen. "But I'm not questioning you as a suspect." He stopped and smiled warmly. "I'm just gathering information. Getting to know the boy that was Kevin Tomilson." He nodded. "You understand."

       Isabeth nodded along with him. "Okay." She said nervously. "What do you want to know about...Kevin?"

       "What kind of person was he? Did he have any enemies?" Washington flipped the notepad back open. "And don't give me that 'everybody loved him' line." He clicked his pen. "Because he had a black eye and he was stabbed in the back."

     "Stabbed in the back!" Isabeth's eyes widen as she stepped away from the wall. "I thought he...tripped and broke his neck."

        "After he was stabbed and pushed. The Headmaster has some pull with the Kyren Chronicle so, I wouldn't believe everything I read."  Washington said. "So, as I asked before..." The way his eyes permeated on her made Isabeth hold her breath. "Did he have any enemies?"

      Isabeth blinked out of the judgmental trance he put her under. "Enemies?" 

She looked down at her horse crap covered boots. He called Faith a thot every once and a while. Dragged Benny in the boy's gym and was punched in the face by Malachi. She thought to herself. Isabeth pulled a big gulp of air into her mouth then looked back at Washington. 

"No one comes to mind." She blandly smiled then sniffed. "I mean...I liked him."

        Washington tapped his pen against the notepad, "Ovien." He pointed the pen at her. "Is that any relation to Zarah Ovien, the actress?"

    "Yes." Isabeth unfolded her arms and gripped her waist. "She's my mom."

        "Um." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I wonder if the talent, acting, is heredity." He shrugged turning to the door but stopped. He crushed a piece of straw under the heel of his boot. He looked back at her. "You wouldn't know anything about a Dr. John Fulton."

       Isabeth cleared her throat. "The school therapist." He nodded. "Yeah. What about him?"

       "He's missing." Washington shoved the notepad and pen in his shirt pocket. "You wouldn't know anything about that."

     Isabeth ignored the persecutions of her conscience. She grabbed the shovel, "I've never been acquainted with the man." She wrapped her hand around the handle and squeezed it tightly. "What can I say?" She chuckled. "I'm sane." Her chuckled died and gave birth to a radiant smile.

        "Good to know," Washington looked her up and down causing Isabeth to erase her smile. "Goodnight, Ms. Ovien."

       Isabeth peeked out the stall, watching Washington depart from the stable. You're so going to jail, her conscience declared. 

Is Isabeth in the clear or is Washington more suspicious of her?