Killer Dreams Ch. 16-20

Talia Devine's POV

St. Paul Police, Homicide Division

Friday, September 24, 2021

Another morning, another update with the brass. My partner, Detective James Maloney, looked like he'd aged a decade in the past week as he started the meeting. The Chief had a meeting at City Hall, but her spokesman, Captain Lewis, was here. Assistant Chief Fordham of Major Crimes and Captain Mike Cullen of Robbery/Homicide, our chain of command, were up in the front. The County Attorney wasn't here, but he'd sent an assistant.

No one looked happy after what had already been a long and trying week.

"Before we get to the kinky shit, let's hear about the crime scene information. Jack?"

Detective Parker opened up his notebook. "BCA is still pushing through the hair and fiber evidence, working those found in the bedroom first. So far, we have 27 unique and unknown hairs found in the bedroom. The majority, of course, were matched to the victim and Lars Anderson. They also got a DNA match on the semen stain on the sheets to Lars. Combined with the lack of vaginal tearing or semen deposits in the victim, it's unlikely the perpetrator forcibly penetrated her during the attack."

"Did the autopsy rule out any sex, Jack? If the victim had sex before the murder, especially if it was consensual, it changes things."

Jack nodded. "It's possible, especially if he wore a condom and took it with him. I'd say unlikely. The evidence points towards torture as a motive, not sex."

"Anything matching David?"

"One hair found on the blanket matches his DNA."

Everyone looked at him for more. "We've got his DNA at the crime scene?"

"It's not that simple," Jack replied. "Her parents confirmed the quilt was a wedding gift, handmade by her aunt. The hair was on the bottom side of the blanket."

"It's not definitive proof he was there," the County Attorney agreed. "It's too easy to explain away and not nearly enough for an arrest warrant."

"Wonderful. Yvonne, was there anything in the coroner's report that hinted at previous BDSM activities?"

"I asked specifically about that after the photograph came out, and the answer was nothing recently. There was some faint scarring on the buttocks and the backs of the thighs that could be consistent with that activity, but it was fully healed and not conclusive. The coroner did say that unless the whipping were severe enough to cut skin or raise welts, any marks would fade within hours."

"And Lars was on a road trip the previous four days," Maloney replied. "Talia, did anything useful show up in her electronic records?"

"Nothing obvious," I replied. "Most of the victim's private messages were with Lars or her friends. After reviewing her history and speaking with her friends, we identified four previous boyfriends, none of whom she remained in touch with after the breakup. Tracy had not complained about any of them being abusive, nor do they have records or red flags. She hadn't dated a man twice in over a year before meeting Lars at a charity event in February. Her girlfriends kept urging her to get out more, especially after turning thirty-five."

"Is that a problem?"

"The median age of first marriage for a woman is now twenty-eight, thanks to an entire generation of men in deferred adulthood, living in basements and uninterested in relationships, while women pursue degrees and careers. Of course, you've probably been living together for years before. That means you picked them when you were twenty-five and dragged them to the altar in time," Yvonne replied. She was in her forties and had more divorces than any other Homicide detective. The average in the detective room was two. "By your late twenties, you're grabbing for the best guy left on the shelf like it's Black Friday. At thirty, you're in the discount aisle, one step away from the crazy cat lady starter kit," Yvonne intoned gravely. "At thirty-five, your chances of finding a good man plummet. Most men your age are already married or interested only in hookups, and divorced women are out in force. Divorced men come complete with three kids and an unstable ex-wife. The older men are looking for trophy wives, and you're no longer young and beautiful enough to compete. At forty, finding a decent man is roughly equivalent to hitting the lottery."

Gulp. I was 29, in a high-stress job, and already had a cat. No wonder Mom was worried about me. "Tracy was thirty-six and a successful career woman. Her girlfriends loved Lars and thought she hit the jackpot with him. Younger, rich, and good-looking? Some women will do almost anything to keep a man like that happy."

Captain Cullen interjected. "No evidence she was cheating on him?"

"No, sir," I answered. "If she was, she kept it hidden from everyone."

"What about Lars," the Captain asked.

"He's a professional hockey player," Hank answered. "The one-hundred-mile rule was in play for him, though he was discreet about his affairs. Lars admits to having sex with multiple women while on the road. He swore he didn't cheat on her in Minnesota since his engagement. He said he was discreet about it, practiced safe sex, and Tracy never knew about it."

Nice. All men cheat if they can get away with it. "What did he say about the bondage stuff?"

"He said she asked him to buy those things to spice up their sex life. I walked him through her condominium, including the drawers. Everything was there except the cuffs and ball gag the BCA took. When I described to him how the killer marked up and tortured the victim, he almost got sick. He said he was always careful not to leave visible marks or break the skin because Tracy would be furious with him. When she asked him to tie her up and flog her, he learned how to do it right."

"How the hell do you learn that," I asked.

"He hired a Dominatrix for private lessons in her dungeon," Hank replied. "He said the photograph was taken there without their consent. I asked for details, but he refused. The training agreement with the Madame included privacy provisions."

"Compel him to give us the information!"

"It's not that simple," the lawyer in the room said. "We have no evidence the dominatrix was involved in ANY crime, including the murder. You've already ruled Lars out as a suspect. Any statements would be voluntary, and Lars declined. I'm sure this Dominatrix had a lawyer review the commercial contract stipulations regarding privacy."

"Is there any way to get her name?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure the taking and leaking of the pictures were against their agreements. We'll never know unless Lars files suit against the Dominatrix for damages."

"So we're at a dead end with Lars," Maloney concluded. "The toys and the sex are a recent development and legal between consenting adults. Where are we on David Hardin?"

"Up to twenty-seven matches to the book now that the ex-husband's DNA is at the crime scene," I said as I marked up the spreadsheet on the board. "When will we go public with the parallels to the book? It might bring in a solid lead." Left unsaid was the 'if it doesn't leak first.'

"Not anytime soon," Captain Cullen said. "Miss Hardin's funeral is this afternoon. There's no way I release something like this before she's in the ground. The bondage picture is already out there, causing embarrassment for her family, and we didn't do it. We should give it the weekend and see if anyone tells us more."

"I've got a friend in Minneapolis North Precinct. He said Sergeant Miller brought David down last night. The two of them met up with some of the guys he knew from his time on the job. They are both attending the funeral today."

"Can we bring him in for questioning," Hank asked.

"After the search warrant, his lawyer knows he is a suspect and would refuse a voluntary statement. If we bring him in, David's smart enough to plead the Fifth," Maloney replied.

"How long is he in town," the Captain asked.

"Miller is working three nights, so unless he gets a ride back there, he'll go back next week," Detective Maloney replied.

The Captain took over then. "I want everyone at the funeral today, inside and outside," he said. "I want eyes on Lars and David the whole time. If the killer is a fan, he won't turn away a chance to see a hermit like David Hardin in public. If the killer knows Lars, they might talk. It's a public event, so there is no expectation of privacy. Work with Technical Services to get parabolic microphones and video equipment. Work with the uniforms to make sure nothing happens to them." We got our assignments and went to work.

It was just before noon when Captain Cullen called me into his office. My partner was already there, along with a lawyer I hadn't met. "You doing anything this weekend, Talia?"

"I'm a homicide detective on a priority case, Captain. I cleared my schedule."

"Good. James, I need her to make a delivery."

The lawyer pulled a box out of his briefcase. "David Hardin's publisher won an emergency motion in St. Louis County District Court this morning. The BCA executed warrant improperly seized in-progress literary works from David's computer. The judge ordered us to return David's hard drive and backup to his lawyer immediately."

I looked at the box, wondering what this had to do with me. "Fed-ex is right down the street," I said.

"That could work, but I have a better idea," Captain Cullen said. "We need to get this box to Two Harbors. David Hardin doesn't have a ride home after the funeral."

James figured it out first. "You want Talia to drive a murder suspect home?"

He nodded. "Look, we all know David isn't a good suspect because there is no motive or evidence. We also know that if you, a 25-year Homicide detective, start asking questions? He'll clam up and call for his lawyer. I'm betting he MIGHT talk to a rookie detective who is young and attractive during a three-hour drive north."

I bristled at his use of my looks to get the job done, but I knew it could work. "You want me to drive David Hardin home?"

"Yes. Worst case, David sleeps the whole way. You get the lawyer to sign for the delivery, drop him at his house, and get a hotel for the night before driving back tomorrow. I'm betting you get more than that, though. You'll get a feel for David's personality and maybe get more background on the case. It's better than reading Internet articles about him."

A whole evening alone with David? A chance to see his home? I felt my sex clench as the dream came back to me. "Fine, but I won't be back until Sunday. If I'm driving to the North Shore, I want to see a few things."

"No problem."

I signed for the box and drew an unmarked Dodge Charger from the motor pool. One way or another, I was heading to Two Harbors tonight.

I went home, packed an overnight bag, and ensured the cat had enough food and water. I arrived thirty minutes later at the funeral, parking in the police section. I wiped my sweaty palms on my suit slacks.

I hadn't been this nervous about meeting a guy since my last blind date.

I waited until David entered the church and went to offer him a ride home.

Chapter 17

Talia Devine's POV

St. Paul Cathedral

Friday, September 24, 2021

David Hardin was hotter in real life than on television.

My stomach flipped as I followed him through the doors, flashing my detective badge to get past the security there. I recognized Sergeant Miller just inside the doorway. He was in his dress blues, talking with Captain Cullen and a few St. Paul Police Sergeants. My boss waved me over to them. "Detective Talia Devine is a rookie detective on her Robbery/Homicide rotation. Detective, have you met Sergeant Larry Miller?"

"No, but I watched you at the press conference," I said as I reached to shake Larry's hand. "I feel like I know you already. They had me researching David's background, so I know how much you did to help him recover."

"He pushed everyone in his life away, but I wouldn't go away. He's a good man with a tragic backstory."

I watched David's slight limp as he walked over to express his condolences to Tracy's family. "I've talked to enough people who think he'd be a statistic if you didn't stand with him."

"Are you on the case?"

I had to be evasive. "It's the biggest murder case in years, Sergeant. Everybody in the office is doing something. I'm doing what I'm told and trying to learn from the best."

"That's a good plan. I've heard a lot about you as well, Detective."

"Really?"

"Mostly from officers who attended your classes and got their asses kicked. I even sent one of my problem child officers to your training. He NEEDED that Devine experience."

He wasn't the only one. "Did I deliver?"

"Yep. I'd love to get you across the river to do some focused training with our Northside officers. I can't talk your Captain into giving you up."

"I agreed to Monday Mat Time through the end of the year under duress," the Captain replied. "Detective Devine has good instincts, and I need her working cases full-time."

It seemed like a good time to broach the subject with David's buddy. "I heard you drove David down here for the funeral?"

Larry nodded. "David doesn't drive much; the car seats and the bumps aren't good for his hip. I'll drive him back next week when I finish my shifts."

"Is he good with that? Everything I heard was that he rarely leaves home."

"That's true, Detective. As sad as this occasion is, it will be good for him to see that people still care for him." As we talked, David was saying something to her parents.

I jumped in shock when Tori slapped him. I thought about walking over to help defuse the situation, but Larry grabbed my arm. "NOW you show up? Tracy never stopped loving you, and now it's too late!"

David didn't stop her from beating her fists on his chest. He stood there, placing his hands on her shoulders before drawing his ex-mother-in-law into a hug. She broke down crying on his shoulder. "I know. I loved her too."

"Then why did you break her heart?"

David's shoulders sagged. "I was trying to protect her."

Tori reached a hand up to cup his face. "She didn't need your protection, David. She needed her husband."

Now it was David that was crying. "I wish I could go back and change things, Mom. I messed up, and Tracy paid the price for it. Only now, when it is too late, do I realize what I've done."

That was dangerously close to an admission. Would David confess the murder to Tori in front of all of us? Stranger things had happened. Tori wrapped her arms around him. "Stay by me during the funeral. You've got enough people looking at you funny already, and staying away will raise more questions."

David looked around. "Are you sure?"

"I know you didn't do it. I'm not so sure about Lars. He called this morning and asked if he could skip the funeral because of the bad press over that horrible photograph. I said a real man would know it was more important to honor his fiancé than to hide out like a little bitch. Then I hung up." She leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

I was smiling because Tori had a way with words. I leaned over to my boss. "Captain, has Lars shown up yet?"

"Not yet," he whispered back. "Ten bucks says he shows up right before it starts and sits in the back."

"You're on. I agree with Tori. The little bitch is going to skip out on the whole thing," I replied.

Larry had been listening. "You're both wrong. My ten bucks say he shows up graveside and does a drive-by."

I stayed by Captain Cullen's side as David finished talking to Tracy's parents. He walked back over to Larry. "Craig and Tori want us to sit behind them for the service," David announced.

"That's because they think you are innocent," Larry said.

"I am innocent, but I'm not without guilt," he replied. "I hurt their daughter. I didn't think they would ever forgive me, so I broke off contact with them." He turned to me and smiled. "Detective Talia Devine, I presume?"

I blushed as I extended my hand to his. "A pleasure to meet you," I said. "How did you know who I was?" His handshake was like I imagined it would be; firm, confident, and with a hint of promise.

"Captain Cullen told me about the hard drives and said you could drop me back home if I wanted the ride," David said. "I also knew you were doing background research on me, so I figured turnabout was fair play. I probably know more about you than you would be comfortable with me knowing. It's amazing what you can find on the internet." That was a little creepy, but part of me was pleased he took the time. "Is the reward helping?"

I quickly nodded. "We're getting tips, but you never know if they will help or distract until you dig into them." David and I migrated to a corner as we talked, away from all the officers gathering together. The St. Paul Police Chief's adjutant was getting them organized for their walk into the seats reserved for senior law enforcement. David and I made small talk in the corner, and he ignored the dirty looks he got from some of the other guests filing in. Others were more friendly, mainly people who knew the couple from their married days. David introduced me to them like I was his date, and I relaxed into the innocent contact, like a hand on the back or arm as we talked.

His nerves were getting worse as the service approached. I recognized the signs; he was trying to control his breathing, like a fighter before the bout. "How are you holding up?"

"This isn't going to be easy," he said. "Sit with me? I don't want to lose my ride."

"Of course." We walked behind Tracy's family and close friends into the sanctuary. Our group was the last to be escorted to their seats, and we ended up behind her parents.

The service was difficult to take for everyone who loved Tracy. David wasn't faking his grief, and I couldn't let him suffer alone. I behaved more like a girlfriend than a Detective, rubbing his back, letting him cry into my shoulder, and helping him walk to the podium. He wasn't on the program, and everyone but her parents and David were shocked when he stood up to speak. I stood to the side as David gathered himself before speaking to the thousands in the church. "None of us should be here right now," he began. "Tracy Hardin was the best of us. As a cop, you see the best and worst in people. If someone abused women or children and you made the arrest, you prayed that County Attorney Hardin drew the case. Tracy was fearless in the pursuit of justice. It didn't matter if the predators and abusers were in gangs, cartels, or relatives; Tracy defended the victims like they were her own family."

I could see the respect for her among the police and the lawyers in the crowd. "She was no different in her personal life. She was loving, caring, and loyal to a fault. I loved her from the day we met, and I will forever regret pushing her away. Nothing is guaranteed; your life can change or end in a split second. Tell people you love them. Spend time with friends and family. Forgive each other before it is too late. Live as best you can, and leave behind a legacy. Those who loved her will remember her life with a smile. Rest in peace, Tracy Hardin."

He looked older and frail as he walked back, his limp more noticeable. Tracy's parents embraced him before he finally sat back down.

Curiously, her boss, County Attorney Michael Klinesmith, didn't speak as expected. The Mayor spoke of her service to the city, followed by her best friend. Craig was the last speaker, talking about her childhood and how proud he was to be her father. All too soon, the pallbearers took her body out to the waiting hearse.

The burial service was going to be private, so many mourners were heading home. "Can I give you a ride?"

"Sure," David said. "I'll grab my stuff from Larry's car after it's over."