Farid had been driving for a nice while to reach his location. Unlike when he went to the twins, he did not see any landfills which was encouraging. Instead, what he saw was a veterinary hospital. Checking the address on his text again, he confirmed that this was where he was supposed to go and entered. No other cars were in the parking lot besides one, so they would be able to talk.

To the psychologist's right was a counter and there was a silver-gray dog wagging its tail. It hopped up on the counter to get a better look at the visitor, then barked in a way which seemed more to give the message of his presence than to be aggressive. To prove Farid's hunch true, a young woman with a black braid entered from the back. She had a small smile on her face, but it did not reach her eyes.

"Hello, are you Dr. Farid?" she asked.

"I am, and are you Heather?"

"Yep," she paused unsurely. "Hiccup said you wanted to talk about what happened to my parents."

"I do, but I can understand if it would be difficult."

Heather shook her head. "It's fine. I'll talk about it all day if it can convince you that the murderer they have in Berk Prison is beyond help."

Farid did not respond to this, but he also did not allow his expression to change. Heather moved from behind the counter to go out to the waiting room with him. She was closely followed by the tall dog.

"What type is she?" the man asked.

"I'm not sure. I think she's mixed with a lot of different breeds. I found her injured one day on the side of the road. Poor girl hadn't eaten in weeks. She was more than happy to come back and get some food, then I just didn't have it in me to bring her to anyone else," Heather said, petting the dog. "I couldn't put her in a kennel after growing so close. Her name's Windshear. She's been a great companion all these years."

Heather started to scowl. "Of course, I wouldn't have needed companionship so badly if my parents had survived. I was supposed to be home at the time. Normally, I got back from school a little bit after three, but I had a nature club meeting that day too instead of just the next one like it usually was. We had a project we were going to present to the school, so we needed extra time which kept me there until five. By the time I got back…" She blinked a few times and cleared her throat. "The whole place was blocked off with tape and officers were everywhere. I didn't see anything–which I guess was a blessing in disguise."

"You only heard what had happened?"

"Yeah, I sometimes think about what would've happened if that club meeting hadn't been held. I wonder if I would've been able to help them. I bet that I could've."

Sensing her sadness, Windshear rested her head on Heather's lap so that she could pet her. The veterinarian did not look happier, but she continued speaking.

"I've never even seen that killer. Not in-person anyway. I've only seen pictures taken at the crime scene. He looked as crazy as he is." Heather felt herself becoming more frustrated. "What are you hoping to accomplish by coming here, Doctor? You can't think you'll convince me to forgive that psycho for taking my family away from me. I'll never forgive him. If he weren't locked up, I'd–" She caught herself, face clouding over. "If you're as good a psychologist as everyone says you are, you should know there's nothing you can do for something like him."

"Something?"

"Something. He's not a person. A person would have compassion or would at least be cruel enough to have a reason for what he did. He killed my mom and dad for nothing. It was completely random. He didn't know them and they didn't know him. They were the nicest people I've ever been around. Even though I wasn't their biological daughter, they always treated me like their own. They kept to themselves and were timid, soft-hearted people who deserved to live at least until their golden years, but he stole that from them. I just can't accept that."

Farid listened to her words carefully. "I'm not asking you to accept that or forgive him. I was only hoping to learn more about what had happened. You said that your parents were not around a lot of people."

"No, they liked to be on their own. We lived on a farm not too far from here. The closest neighbors were almost a mile away, so we didn't get to know them." Heather frowned and leaned in closer. "From your talks with him, have you found out why he did that?"

"We haven't gotten to that yet."

Heather grunted. "I've been racking my brain for an answer for years and still can't even get closure on why he did what he did. I guess that's just another example of life being fair."

Farid got quiet for a moment when a thought came to him. "Did your parents ever speak of their lives before adopting you?"

"Not really. I think they had been farmers for most of their lives. They did say they used to provide a foster home for other kids, but then they decided that they couldn't stand having to say goodbye. It was that which made them decide to just adopt."

The fond memories made a warm smile cross Heather's face, but it was replaced with an expression of sadness. She stood up from the chair, heading back to go behind the counter.

"I have to get back to work. There's a Pomeranian with a sprained paw coming in later this afternoon."

Understandingly, Farid got up and went towards the door. "Thank you for talking with me."

Heather just gave a small nod of her head and he left. He could believe what he wanted, but she would do the same. On the other side of town, Hiccup was training a secretary bird to not eat the snakes outside.

"No," he chastised, "they're our friends too. We don't eat our friends."

Filled with orneriness, Toothless snuck up behind the bird and snapped his jaws, causing it to fly off.

"Not really helping, Bud," Hiccup said, sighing.

The jaguar looked proud of himself and sauntered over to the building before laying down to watch his friend work. It went smoothly for a little while, then Hiccup went to feed the animals. This could be the tricky part. He had to find a way to keep the carnivores and herbivores separate and calm enough so that there were no issues. Balancing a tiger cub on his head so that it would not be tempted to go after an antelope calf, he took it inside before feeding the little one. The phone rang and Hiccup answered it happily after seeing who it was.

"Hey, Fishlegs, what's up?" he asked, using a bottle to feed the big kitten.

"I just heard from Heather," the scientist informed him, voice tense. "Why did you have Farid go talk to her?"

"I didn't force it to happen. I just let him know that I knew her and asked if she'd be okay with it. She was."

"She wasn't. You're stirring up bad memories."

"Maybe it's time some of this got brought back up if it's going to clear up what happened."

Fishlegs stopped for a moment. "What needs to be cleared up? Dagur orphaned her."

"But why? Why would he kill people he's never even met. It's not like it was a hit and run or he went out to rob some place and they were there. He went into their house and killed them. Nothing was even stolen. It's almost like he went there just to find them."

"All the more reason why Heather shouldn't have to go through this again. I couldn't imagine experiencing something like that. She's lost two families, Hiccup. Why do you want her to stay there versus moving on?"

"It's not that I don't want her to move on, Fishlegs, but can't you see how strange it all is?"

Fishlegs hesitated, not sure how he felt.

"You've really never thought it was weird? Not even once?"

"Fine, maybe I have from time to time, but that doesn't matter. What matters is how she was affected."

"You're not seeing what this can do for her, though."

"And what is that?"

"If we find out why it happened, she can too. Hasn't this bothered her ever since she found out? She can finally get the closure she deserves."

Fishlegs became quiet again, but this time, it was due to him thinking deeply. "Maybe you've got a point, but what if it just hurts her more?"

"I think that by now, any answer would satisfy her more than just wondering."

A sigh was the only indication Hiccup had that the other man was still on the line, then Fishlegs spoke again. "I hope you're right. I have to take care of some more tests. I'll talk to you later."

Their conversation ended and Hiccup returned to feeding the animals. He really did not want Heather to suffer, but there was something about this case which had never felt right to him. These feelings had only intensified since Farid's involvement. If the doctor accomplished nothing else, Hiccup hoped he would be able to offer Heather an explanation for why she had to endure such pain.

Earlier that day and after talking with Heather, Farid had spoken to Dagur. He noticed that Gobber still seemed slightly unhappy, but he appeared to be in better spirits than he had been the previous day. Making a mental note to speak with him about something else later on, Farid began his session with the inmate.

"I believe we were discussing your father last time," he said. "Why was he around this other man so much?"

"For the same reason we were in that part of town the day Ella got taken–drugs. Dad was spinning out of control and knew it. Just like Mom went to booze, he went to other substances. I didn't know that's why we were there at the time, but I figured it out."

"How did you do that?"

Dagur frowned, thinking back. "He used to try to keep it secret. He'd go to his room and take…well, that part I never knew the specifics of. He took a lot. I think he started off smoking, then started injecting, and was snorting by the end. Every time he would leave for work the next day, he'd just look worse and worse. It was like he was slowly dying.

"One day, he was late for work. I remembered him mentioning that he had to go in to discuss with some attorneys about an ongoing case. It was a Saturday, so I was off school. I was just about to head out to see if I could catch some rats when I saw his car was still in the garage. I called for him, but he didn't answer. I figured he was in his study at first–and you did not want to interrupt him when he was there. I got quite the tongue-lashing last time. It almost made me just leave him to whatever he was doing, but I just couldn't get what he had said out of my head.

"He had been going on and on about how important this case was and how much the lawyers needed his help. Just seemed bizarre that he'd suddenly switch up from that and decide to stay home. So, I checked the study and he wasn't there. I knocked on his room, but he didn't answer. By this point, I was bored and annoyed. He was messing up my plans for the day. There's a very narrow time frame to catch rats. They're craftier than you'd think. So, I just opened the door to see what he was doing."

Dagur stopped talking and a far away look was in his eyes. "He was barely conscious. His eyelids kept fluttering and his heartbeat was really slow. I saw an assortment of drugs on his table and started panicking. I called for an ambulance, then dragged him into the bathroom. He used to hate the smell of sage, but Mom always liked having it around, so I lit some of that and got him to throw up whatever he had taken. This snapped him back to reality enough to realize what was going on. As soon as he found out about the ambulance coming, he cleaned himself up, hid everything, and made sure to act like it was just some crazy prank."

"What happened afterwards?"

Dagur scoffed. "He was pissed at me. There I was, keeping him alive and somehow I'd screwed up. Now, I get that he didn't want anyone to find out, but I was just so confused. I was angry with him for not trying to get help with it and even angrier that he acted like I was just a buffoon who thought prank OD calls were funny. Even I'm not that messed up." He crossed his arms. "We started yelling at each other about what he was doing and what he did." The redhead put a hand to his right cheek. "That's when I realized how much a slap could sting."

Farid's eyes widened slightly. "Did it escalate from there?"

The inmate shook his head. "Actually, no. It didn't take much to escalate things with me back then. Still doesn't, but I was so surprised by what he'd done that I didn't know how to respond. That was the first and last time he ever did that. Since then, he just acted like I didn't exist."

"Did he continue taking drugs?"

"Yeah, but I never said anything again about it. Figured that if he wasn't going to care, I wouldn't either."

"Is it true that you didn't?"

Dagur hesitated and scratched his head. "No, it's not. I just didn't want to care anymore, so it was easier being angry with him for his reaction than disappointed with him for not going to rehab. It's not like I could make him. I just felt helpless." He scowled and gritted his teeth. "I hate that feeling."

Switching gears to seem more light-hearted, Dagur kept talking. "But that's when I started thinking more about different things. I began going back through different memories of him acting strangely and realized it all was traced back to Ella's disappearance. There was no reason for us to be there and even less for him to be buying something from someone unless it was to get drugs in an area he thought no one would see him. It also explained why he didn't want to draw attention to why he was there."

"How much worse did he get?"

"A lot. He started going to work less and less until they began calling, wondering if something happened to him. Heck, they even were willing to talk to me about him, so you know something was wrong. Of course, I didn't tell them. It would have started a fight and if it did, I doubted I'd have been taken off guard so much a second time."

"What did you tell them when they asked?"

"I lied. I'm pretty good at it. I'd say he was sick and that's why he couldn't go to the courthouse. It worked for a while, then they started getting suspicious. I think they thought we were having problems–which we were, so they weren't wrong–but it wasn't to the extent they assumed."

"But you lied so that you wouldn't fight with him?"

"I'd fought with a lot of people by that time. I didn't want to fight him too."

"Was it because you thought he would win?"

Dagur laughed. "Him? Not a chance. I'd beat him easily, but he was my dad. I wouldn't–" The inmate stopped abruptly, suddenly looking uncertain. His look faded and he became lackadaisical again. "I didn't want to hurt him at that time."

"Was there a time when you did want to hurt him?"

The redhead began tapping his foot anxiously. "Plenty. We never got along. If I had a dime for every time I imagined smothering him in his sleep, I'd be able to buy the whole town of Berk."

Farid felt he was making progress, but he also could see Dagur's nervousness. His laugh was more anxious than showing genuine amusement. An important skill was knowing when to push and when to back off.

"Was this man the only one you knew who sold to Oswald?"

"For a while. Then, he got arrested and Dad found somebody else. I don't know who this person was, though. He made sure to keep it as big a secret as he could."

The conversation went on a little while longer until the time ran out and Farid spoke with the other inmates. When he was done for the day, he found a certain prosthetic-wearing correctional officer.

"Hey, Doctor, any luck today with the guys?"

"A lot. I wanted to ask you something, though."

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Did you know Dagur before the arrest?"

Gobber's eyes widened slightly. "What makes you ask that?"

"He seems to care about you. Of course, I know that could've happened from his time here, but I think there's something more than that."

The blond rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, I knew him. Sometimes, he and his dad would visit with Stoick and Hiccup while I was there."

"Do you think it would be possible if we spoke about your memories of him then?"

Gobber looked unsure, but then he nodded. "Yeah." He wrote down something on a small piece of paper. "That's my address. When I'm not here, I'm normally at home with my dog, Grump. You're welcome to come over and ask your questions. Can't promise I'll be that helpful. I just vaguely knew him as a kid."

"I'm sure you'll be more helpful than you think."

Smiling, Farid said goodbye to the other man and headed home. He would follow any trail which could lead him to answers. Nothing was too out there or too seemingly unimportant. He was going to get to the bottom of this case.