Killer Dreams Ch. 16-20

"Because in a scene like this, blood is EVERYWHERE," he said. "I took some online CSI classes as part of my book research. By the time the murder was over, the killer would be a real mess. Did you find Tracy's blood in the bathroom sink? The shower drain? Anywhere?"

"Only on the bed, with some droplets and spray on the carpet around it. No bloody fingerprints, so we think the killer was wearing gloves."

"He was wearing more than that," David said. "This guy had all the time in the world to do this. He took the time to enjoy his handiwork. More importantly, he planned every detail, including the exit."

"What do you mean?"

"Most killers aren't ready for the amount of blood they encounter. If this was a crime of passion, he'd have to wash his hands, hit the shower, and deal with bloody clothes. All that would leave evidence you didn't find."

I thought about it for a moment. "So what should we be looking for?"

"If you create a bloody scene and don't want to track evidence around, there are only two good ways to proceed. The simplest is to go in naked and clean up before dressing."

"But he didn't use the bathroom."

"True. That means towels and a plastic bag, plus having clean clothes handy. Were any towels missing?"

"Not that I could see."

He nodded. "That brings us to the other option. How do your crime scene techs prevent contamination as they go through the scene?"

"Tyvek suits, booties, hoods, and gloves."

"And to prevent tracking blood everywhere?"

I thought back to what I'd seen. "Absorbent, plastic-backed pads on the floor, trash bag stands for doffing them."

"Sometimes the evidence is not what you see, but what you DON'T see. Remember, this guy had all the time in the world."

"Shit." The implications hit like a ton of bricks. "He set up a changing pad before he started cutting her."

David nodded. "All the blood evidence stays in the garbage, and the pad collects anything from inside the suit. Strip off the Tyvek, fold the floor pad, bag it, and take it with you. I bet you find a clean carpet square near the door where he set up."

He was asking about surveillance video as we were passing through Duluth. "Do you think the corruption of the hard drive was a coincidence?"

"So far, we don't have evidence of a hack," I replied. "Why?"

"It goes to the pre-planning of this. You said the whiskey tumbler was taken at least a week before the crime, while the hard drive just HAPPENED to die at the start of the weekend. If the perpetrator took that much care in not leaving physical evidence behind, he must have known about the cameras. A rare-earth magnet, a virus, even a bribe to the security guy?"

"Yeah." Another thing for me to pass on to my partner. "Anything else you can help me with?"

"Yeah. Start by dividing the crime into four parts: Preparation, Entry, Murder, and Extraction. Each element was meticulously prepared and carried out. This guy isn't your garden-variety psychopathic killer, Talia. He's good, he LIKES it, and he has no plans to get caught anytime soon."

"Great," I said as we passed through the tunnels on the north side of town. "Any other good news?"

"What can you tell me about how he got through her door?"

"We don't know," I replied. "No signs of forced entry, no noises reported by the neighbors, and no signs of struggle in the rooms or on her body."

David was watching the lake off to our right, not even looking at me as the freeway ended, and I continued north on Highway 61. "How does Tracy go from answering her door to bound and gagged in the bed with no signs of struggle?"

I thought about this. "If Tracy didn't know the killer, she wouldn't have let him in."

"It's late on a Sunday night, and someone knocks on the door. Tracy has a permit to carry, I taught her to shoot, and she's lived in the cities for years. She'd answer the door armed, just in case. Where did you find her pistol?"

"In its holster, on the bureau in her bedroom."

"So Tracy expected him, or she let him in and put the pistol back. A stranger isn't getting through a locked door backed by a gun. No, Tracy knows and trusts this person enough to bring him to her bedroom after everyone else is gone."

That points straight to Klinesmith. He's smart enough to do this. "What else?"

"This was a booty call. The killer KNEW she had those toys in her drawer, Talia. He knew he didn't have to bring them because they'd used them before." Shit. "Once he had her secured and quiet, he took his time killing her. How long did Tracy lie helpless while he got things ready? How long did he carve on her before she finally died? How long did the killer stay to admire his handiwork, knowing no one would miss her until mid-morning?"

I couldn't answer any of his questions. "We aren't going to catch this guy, are we?"

"It's going to be hard to catch him and even harder to prove anything in court. The killing isn't a Cartel hit, a stalker, a crazed fan, or some random act of violence. He's a brilliant psychopath who likes carving on women. The killer matched the book to fuck with us, Talia. These two have a sexual history, and it's not the first time he's tied her up. Find out who else was in her bondage universe beyond Lars and this Mistress."

Fuck. The case was giving me a headache. I needed to drop the hard drives off with Mr. Costley, get David home, and find a hotel room for the night. A hot shower, BOB time, and a good night's sleep would do wonders.

Chapter 20

David Hardin's POV

Two Harbors, Minnesota

Friday, September 24, 2021

"His office is in that brown building," I told Talia shortly after the speed limit dropped to 35 mph at the south end of Two Harbors. She signaled and pulled into the parking lot of the small office building. I could see the lights were on in his upstairs office. I'd called him before we reached Duluth and agreed to meet at his office, even though it was late on a Friday.

I took a moment to stretch as we stopped. My hip and leg got sore and uncomfortable on long drives, which was one of the reasons I refused to take them. I busied myself, twisting my torso to loosen my back, while Talia grabbed a box from the back seat. "Let's get this done," she said.

"At least he won't yell at you," I replied. We entered the atrium area and took the elevator to the second floor. I knocked on Gerald Costley's office door, and he opened it a few seconds later. He wasn't happy with either of us from his reaction. "Good evening, Gerald."

"I see you don't listen when I tell you to do something," he growled as he stood aside. "As for you, Detective, I'll be speaking of this with your boss. You know you can't question a suspect without his lawyer present."

"I'm the one who waived that privilege," I said. "Detective Devine read me my rights, and I elected to continue our talk. She did nothing wrong."

"Did she record the conversation?"

"No. I did." I handed over the voice recorder; I had a half-dozen of them around the house, just in case I got a sudden inspiration and needed to get it down before it faded.

"You're an idiot, David. You pay me a lot of money for a reason. If you want my help, I need you to listen to me when I tell you something. You should know better."

"I didn't do it. I know we need to catch this bastard. I don't mind helping the Detectives figure this shit out. You saw the news?" He nodded. "Then you know the killer is following my book like an instruction manual. I can help them."

He shook his head. "The prisons are full of people who didn't do it, David. If you want to help, run it through me. All right?"

"Yeah."

He looked at Talia, standing next to me with the box. "Are those my client's hard drives?"

"Yes. I need you to sign for custody." She handed him the box; he opened it and verified the contents before signing the form and handing it back. "Thank you."

"Do I get my files back now?"

"Not yet, David. It's not that I don't trust the police, but I have to protect you. I'll put these in the safe for now. I've got a computer guy coming Monday to run a complete virus check and inventory of the files. My guy will find out if they planted or removed anything while these were in their possession. I'll be in court ten minutes later."

I had the new computer set up, and I wasn't planning to do any writing on the new book this weekend anyway. Nice fall weekends were to be enjoyed; there would be plenty of time to write when the snow was flying. "I'll wait for it, then. Have a good weekend."

He looked over at Detective Devine. "May I have a moment alone with my client?"

"I'll be waiting in the car," she said before leaving the room.

"What the hell are you doing, David?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "I see the way you look at each other, David. I know you've been out of the dating pool forever. This woman is a complication you can't afford. She's investigating you for a murder!"

Did I have feelings for her? I liked being around her, and there was a lot to like, but I wasn't interested in a relationship. Was I? "I know who she is, and I'll behave."

"Good. From now on, if you want to help with the investigation? Write your ideas down and pass them through me. Keeping you out of jail is why I get paid the big bucks."

We shook hands, and I went outside and climbed into Talia's car. She'd just finished entering my address into her phone's navigation system. "Do you want something to eat, or should I wait until I get to my hotel?"

"I've got plenty to eat at home, Talia. Let's get home so I can let Rocky out before bedtime." She pulled back onto Highway 61 North, the streets full of tourists coming through on a Friday night. "Where are you staying?"

"I don't know yet. I ran out of time before I had to leave town."

"Well, you can figure it out from my back deck if you want," I told her. "Rocky has endless energy for chasing tennis balls."

After opening the gate blocking the private drive, we pulled up to my home. Rocky was happy to see me, but he was thrilled to meet Talia. He did join us on the back deck overlooking the water. The sun had already set, but the breeze was still warm.

Did Rocky play ball? Run around in the yard after being cooped up for a few days? No, my little Judas sat with his head in Talia's lap, getting ear scratches and pets. He'd stare at her with those pleading eyes until she started scratching again. She wasn't having much luck with her search.

I figured I'd prepare a light dinner. I turned on the LED lighting around the deck, started up my Traeger pellet grill, and then went back into the kitchen. The grocer delivered some fresh-caught Coho salmon last week, but I left before I could make it. I washed the one-pound filets and took out the chilled paste I'd left in the fridge. The topping consisted of a cup of shredded parmesan, 1/4 cup olive oil, 1/2 stick of butter, three tablespoons of sour cream and lemon juice, and fresh ground pepper. Coating the top, I set the filets in the smoker, then worked on a salad.

I set the table outside, bringing out dishes and a bottle of Chardonnay. Talia finally gave up as I plated the applewood smoked salmon. "There is NOTHING available within a hundred miles for less than three hundred a night," she said with frustration.

"Relax," I told her. "I've got a guest room you can use. It's a better view than a hotel, anyway." The moon was out, and the waves rolling in almost glowed in the soft light.

I set her plate in front of her, and she smiled and closed her eyes as she inhaled the scent. "This looks wonderful," she said as she added some salad to her plate.

"I could have warned you about hotels. It's a fall weekend at the start of leaf season, and the tourists are out in force."

I poured her a glass of wine, and we enjoyed the dinner and the starlit night. She confessed that she didn't have to return to the Cities until Sunday, and we talked about sights to visit. "Thank you for tonight," she told me. "That was the best dinner I've had in a long time. I'm counting this as a date to get Mom off my back. She'll be thrilled to know you cooked for me, then wined and dined me lakeside."

"You would be my first date since my divorce if this dinner counts," I said with a smile. "And I enjoy your company." I cleaned up before moving us to the living room. We finished the wine and traded stories about our lives with Rocky tucked between us. It was just after ten when Talia set down her glass and yawned. "Come on, I'll show you the guest room," I told her.

I didn't go upstairs often since everything I needed was on the main floor. The second story had a loft library and lounge area overlooking the living room, with a guest bedroom and bathroom on each side. Opening the door for her, she carried her overnight bag in and set it on the queen-sized bed tucked in the dormer. "This is beautiful," she said as she looked around at the lodge-style furniture and the windows overlooking Lake Superior.

"I'm glad you like it. There is a shower through that door, and extra blankets are in this chest if you need them. I usually get up early to swim in the lake, but feel free to sleep in. After the week you've had, you probably need that."

She laughed. "You don't know how much," she said with a smile. She walked to me, her hand moving up and lightly touching my cheek. "Thank you, David." I didn't move as she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

It felt good. I thought about bringing my arms around Talia's waist and giving her a real kiss, but she'd moved away again. My body wanted her, but Gerald's warning was enough for me to shut it down. She was off-limits. "Goodnight, Talia. If you don't want the dog in here, you'll have to lock the door to keep him out. Rocky knows how to get through doors like this with paddle handles. He can go downstairs when it's time for my swim without waking you up."

She looked at the bed, where Rocky had jumped up and was making himself comfortable. "I'll leave it open. Goodnight, David."

I closed the door behind me and went back downstairs. I got undressed, releasing the stiffy I'd hidden all night. Everything about her had my interest. I'd think about those smoky eyes or that tight body, and I'd get hard again. I finally gave up the cold shower and jacked myself off, climaxing as I dreamed about that kiss.

What the hell was I doing?

I put on a pair of sleep shorts and tucked into bed, ignoring the urge to go upstairs and make love to her until she screamed.

Talia's POV

Rocky was warm and soft, but he wasn't the man I wanted in my bed. I'd been out of the dating scene for so long that I was second-guessing myself. Did he like me? Why didn't he move when I kissed him? Should I have been more forward?

I rested my hand on Rocky's neck and let my exhaustion carry me to sleep.

The scream woke me up. My eyes shot open, and I looked over at my phone. It was three-forty in the morning. Another blood-curdling scream echoed through the house, and it sounded like David. Rocky was already out the door and heading downstairs.

I grabbed my pistol and penlight and followed him, wearing only a loose T-shirt and panties. I moved silently down the stairs to the front hallway and followed the noise to the open door of David's bedroom.

David was sitting in the middle of his bed, screaming and looking at his hands. Rocky pressed his body against David's chest, licking at his neck. David had mentioned he was a service animal; now I could see why.

I set the pistol on the dresser and crawled into his bed. He didn't react as I embraced him from behind. "I'm here, David," I said in his ear as he slowly returned from the nightmare. "I've got you."

It took a few minutes for him to calm down. I stroked his shoulders and back as his breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's all right, David." I sat against the headboard, letting him rest his head on my lap until he fell asleep again.

I managed to get a pillow under his head and slid back out, going to his bathroom and quietly using it. I knew I should go upstairs, but I didn't want to. Lifting the sheet, I slid into bed and backed up until I had the little spoon position. His arm moved over my waist, and I fell asleep soon after.