Timothy “Tim” Hargis (hard g) is the father of my false accuser, Tiffany (Hargis) Bredfeldt, whose hanky-panky hijinks and courthouse mischief have fouled a quarter of my life, during which Tim, a bank vice president and pious churchgoer, has passively watched with his hands in his lap.
I babysat Tim’s married daughter for three months in 2005 (September through early December), during which she was almost nightly to be found outside of my residence up to and past midnight—while her absentee husband, Phil Bredfeldt, apparently entertained himself elsewhere. I was taunted for not inviting her in after midnight, and she unfailingly worked references to breasts, bras, and panties, her naked body, striptease and the like into our conversations. Then she disappeared. Tim’s daughter would dispute that narrative. Not disputed is that she was frequently outside of my residence at night (alone), never wore a wedding ring, and
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