Killer Dreams Ch. 36-40

I had the next patrol unit set up at the turnoff. I took a quick look around, then walked to the opening in the rail fence leading to the horse trail, stopping when I saw a rider cresting the hill on a brown-and-white Pinto horse.

"The fuck?"

"Jesus," I said. The rider of the lead horse was an older woman dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt with a down vest. The second horse was a chestnut brown quarterhorse, led by a halter. "I think we found our victim."

"Where's his fucking head?"

"I think we know the cause of death."

The woman was crying and looked near a breakdown as she approached. "Take this thing," she almost screamed when I got closer.

I took the lead for the second horse. "Where did you find him?"

"The horse was walking the trail alone," she replied.

"Perkins, walk her to her trailer and get her to sit down once her horse is secured."

His eyes were wide, and he was happy to turn away from the bloody body tied to the saddle of the big stallion. "Easy, boy," I said to the skittish horse. I slowly approached him, reaching out with a hand to calm him down. I didn't have horses, but I'd learned to ride on my grandfather's farm.

I took my time for two reasons. One was to give the witness time to clear the area. The second was to keep the nervous horse from bolting with the murder victim.

There was no hurry to get back to the lot. The less I moved the evidence, the better. I kept a hand on a short reign while I got on my radio. "All responding units stay in the parking lot. Set up the tape at the fence. Nobody comes up the trail without my permission. Have the first investigator bring the witness back to the station and get a statement."

"I'm setting it up, Sheriff. Anything else you need?"

"Get the K-9 here, and bring the ATVs. Did she say how far back she found him?"

"About a mile from the trailhead, on the east side of Sand Hill Road."

That bounded the problem. "Dispatch, send a unit to block the horse trail where it crosses Sand Hill Road. I don't want anyone trampling the crime scene." I listened as a unit responded.

I stood with the horse for thirty minutes until one of my investigators arrived with a camera. I had him take photos of any hoof or footprints he could find on his way to me. Once we had every angle of the body covered, he retrieved his wallet so we could identify him. The victim was confirmed to be Doctor Raul Ibanez, a retired city physician in Minneapolis. "The State Patrol guys say that as soon as the Doctor's name popped up, alarms started going off with the Feds. Patrol is flying investigators up from Madison, and the FBI is dispatching a helicopter from Minneapolis."

"For what? Is this guy connected to drugs or something?"

"Worse. You know the serial killer in Minnesota?" I nodded. "Book three is titled Headless Horseman."

"Fuck me," I said.

"Not even if you ask nicely," he replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Go back to the lot and wait for the dog and pony show to arrive." He returned while I stayed with my movable crime scene.

I didn't let anyone but CSI up the trail until the mobile crime scene techs said it was all right to move him. It took over two hours for their crew to arrive, and we had to bring their gear in on our ATVs. That meant standing with the horse for almost four hours. On the good side, search teams found the victim's head about twenty yards off the trail near the likely murder scene. That scene was secured for now, waiting for CSI to process it. They'd be here all day, and the falling leaves and light rain would make the job harder. "How do you want to get him out of here?"

The lead tech looked at me. "I'd rather leave the victim in place until the coroner can take him," she said. "Can you walk him out?"

"Sure." The horse and I had bonded, and he calmly followed me down the trail to the parking lot. The climbing ropes binding him to the saddle and stirrups were cut and bagged, then the body was transferred to a gurney. CSI bagged and tagged most of the tack. We needed the truck for evidence, so we called a local boarding stable. They brought a trailer and loaded the stallion for the trip to his temporary home.

I finally had a chance to sit down. Our guys set up tables under portable awnings and brought out pizzas and cokes. I was wolfing down a slice of sausage when an FBI agent sat next to me. "Special Agent Harold Dennison, FBI Behavior Analysis Unit," he said as he extended his hand.

"Sheriff Joe Turley. Is the FBI taking over this case?"

"That's above my level. Got enough extra pizza for a starving profiler? We had to leave pretty fast when we got the call."

"Go ahead." He grabbed a couple of slices and a diet Coke. "What can you tell me about the guy who did this?"

"You were first to see the body, right?" I nodded. He pulled out a printout and set it in front of me. It was a list of crime details, with check marks and notes next to more than half of them. "This list came from David Hardin's third book, Headless Horseman. Your victim is the city doctor who forced David Hardin into medical retirement. As you can see, the actual crime stays pretty close to the book."

"Is Hardin the killer?"

"He's our leading suspect. We think he's doing this to show how smart he is and how dumb the Minneapolis Police were to force him out. So far, we have no direct evidence tying him to the murders."

"Does he have an alibi?"

"We're checking. We know Hardin left his St. Paul hotel just after five in the morning. We had a tracking warrant, but he found both and left them behind. He arrived at his Two Harbors home at twelve-forty-two."

"So he had a couple of hours to come to MY county and kill a guy."

"I can't rule that out," Dennison said.

"What do we know of the murder weapon?"

"We found a two-foot-long machete near his head. The coroner said the first blow nearly severed his head, and the second finished the job. So far, we have no witnesses and no solid leads. Serial killers didn't get caught until they made mistakes, and this guy doesn't."

"How did he find this guy? This trailhead is in the middle of nowhere."

"We found a key in his pocket from the New Mountain Bed and Breakfast. He arrived last night and departed after breakfast this morning. We found a bumper beeper under the fender of his horse trailer, so the killer tracked him here."

Something wasn't following. "What was the good Doctor doing out here?"

"Hiding from the killer. We knew how the Book Three murder would happen, and the first two victims had wronged David Hardin. We asked him to get out of town for a while, and he did."

I nodded. "For all the good it did."

"Yeah."

"You know this is WAY beyond what my department can handle."

"You and your people did a good job with the initial response, keeping the crime scenes clean. We'll see if we find anything."

It would have to do. "I've got to check in with my people. Get this steaming pile of horseshit off my plate, Agent Dennison. I moved to the country to get away from this crap."

Chapter 40

Talia Devine's POV

Edina, Minnesota

Friday, October 8, 2021

I heard about the third murder during yesterday's lunch break at the dojo. I'd thought I could get away from this case by working out during morning and afternoon classes, but that wasn't the case now. The cop in me wanted to go to the office, but I wasn't a cop now. I'd checked my messages, leaving a note for my partner to protect the girls. Maloney's reply was short and direct. "Stay out of this and out of trouble."

Good advice. Did I listen?

Hell no. Instead, I made an appointment with Mistress Tatiana and her lawyer for nine o'clock this morning. That's why I was standing at the side door now, dressed in heels and a clingy red dress, waiting for them to let me in. The door opened to Colleen Newberry's severe face. "Your Mistress is waiting downstairs," she told me.

"Thank you," I said as I entered.

She walked down the stairs in front of me, our heels echoing on the wooden steps. "You didn't tell my client why you needed me here. You also didn't mention your suspension from the St. Paul Police pending a disciplinary review."

"What can I say? I've been a naughty girl," I told her as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

Mistress Tatiana was standing next to the spanking bench in her bondage regalia. Black fishnet, high heels, a short black leather shirt, black leather corset narrowing her waist and pushing her breasts up and together, and a riding crop tucked under her right arm. Her smile was more menacing than welcoming as I walked over and knelt at her feet. "So, you've finally accepted your place in life," she said as she walked around me. "I told you that you would be back."

"You were right about me, Mistress," I confessed. "I have a lot to speak to you two about, and it would be more comfortable at a table if my Mistress allows it?"

She nodded. "On your feet." I tried to rise as gracefully as I could, standing at the parade rest position I'd learned in the Academy. "Now, strip."

"Huh?"

The smack of the crop against the left cheek of my ass was instant and painful. "Sluts are naked in my basement, and you are a submissive little slut at heart. Do not question my orders again."

"Yes, Mistress." I unzipped the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor.

Another smack hit my left thigh, and this time I froze without saying anything. "You don't make a mess of my floor. Fold your things and place them on the bench."

"Yes, Mistress." I folded my dress as instructed, then put it with my bra, panties, and heels on the padded bench. I returned to a parade rest position, naked and aroused.

Mistress Tatiana walked around me, adjusting my stance until my legs were shoulder-width apart and my fingers interlocked behind my head, elbows straight out, and head up. Submissives don't look into their Dominant's eyes unless ordered because eye contact is for equals. I looked at her impressive cleavage instead. "This is the Display position. When ordered to Display, you will assume this position without delay."

"Yes, Mistress."

She ran a finger over my small breast and hard nipple, then down my side. It felt like fire, and a swipe of my sex showed my excitement. "The Display position provides the dominant with unfettered access to your body. You are not allowed modesty or embarrassment. Everything you are is available to your Dominant at all times." While Mistress Tatiana ran her hand over my toned butt and legs, Colleen placed my things in a shopping bag and went to step away.

"Miss Newberry, before you take that away, please remove the hundred-dollar bill from the side pocket of my purse. I need to hire you as my lawyer."

"I've already got a client here."

"And I won't ask you to choose. If your responsibilities require it, I can seek representation elsewhere later."

"You want privilege," she said with understanding. The lawyer reached into the bag and retrieved the money, unfolding it. "There are three hundred dollars here."

"Mistress Tatiana's rate for this one-hour session," I replied. "I need to sign her dungeon agreement as well. Please prepare the required paperwork for you and your client."

While she pulled the forms out, Mistress Tatiana directed me to a carpeted area with a leather couch and a solid coffee table with bondage attachments. Mistress ordered me to kneel on the far side of the table. Her crop directed me into the proper position; knees widely spread, butt on heels, back and neck straight, and hands on knees with palms up. "A submissive proudly displays herself for her Master."

I was allowed to read the standard agreements and sign them. Colleen went upstairs to make copies for me, returning a minute later without my bag of belongings. Mistress sat on one side of the couch with her lawyer to her left. "Now that I'm sure you don't have any recording devices, what did you want to talk about?"

I laid everything out for them, starting with my budding relationship with David and the joy I found serving him. Tatiana smiled at my story. "You seek to learn to be a better submissive for him?"

"I do, of course, but I cannot serve his needs while he's the leading suspect in multiple brutal murders," I replied. "I'm here because I need to warn you about what is coming your way, and I have an idea of how to get ahead of it."

"What is coming," Newberry asked.

"With the murder yesterday, the FBI will take over the case. They will form a task force and bring in agents to go through everything St. Paul has done in their investigation. My bosses already suspect me of assisting David, so anything I've investigated will get extra scrutiny."

Colleen figured it out first. "And you told them about the Society and the picture of Lars and Tracy."

"Yes. At the time, it was background material. We were trying to establish if there was any relationship between Tracy Hardin's boss, Michael Klinesmith, and the victim. Your information about the Society led me to look at their schedules, which both have the second Saturday of each month blocked off. Cellphone data shows their phones never left their homes, though. It wasn't enough to tie them together. We needed a witness who saw them together at a Society function, but no one came forward."

"No one will," Mistress replied. "I've discussed your investigation with the leadership, and we are not to assist."

"You won't have a choice," I replied. "My notes show you are a likely member of the Society. The killer may be a member. That is enough to subpoena you to testify. They will demand written statements, membership lists, everything."

"I'll refuse," Mistress said.

"Material witness warrant," I replied. "The Feds don't play fair."

Mistress Tatiana looked at her lawyer. "When a witness to a crime is unwilling to testify, prosecutors can obtain a Material Witness Warrant. Essentially, they can arrest and hold you until you provide the testimony required."

Her face fell. "That would destroy me!"

I nodded in agreement. "And that brings me to the next problem. Right before my suspension, I was working cold cases in Minneapolis that might be related to these murders. One of the murders happened on the second Saturday of September." I was watching Tatiana's face, which couldn't hide the shock. "Allison Decker was suffocated to death, her body cleaned and left in a dumpster on Lake Street. Minneapolis Homicide will investigate any potential ties to the killer. That's where you are vulnerable."

"Why? I didn't have anything to do with her death!"

I shook my head. "Best case is that Allison died accidentally during the Society party. No one called 911 to get help, though someone performed CPR on her and broke some ribs. No one reported her death. Worse, someone cleaned evidence from Allison's body before transporting it to a dump location. That is negligent homicide, conspiracy, obstruction of justice, concealment of death, and other felonies. Anyone who knew about Allison's death and didn't report it could face felony charges. The US Attorney doesn't give a shit about your non-disclosure agreements or your privacy. He'll happily publish your names in association with a serial killer investigation, then use the threat of prosecution to get you to roll on the killer."

Mistress had her hand on her chest. "There's no evidence she was even AT the party! We made sure of it!"

I raised an eyebrow as Tatiana realized her error, and Colleen face-palmed herself. "You knew of the death. Your face couldn't hide it," I said.

Colleen stopped her before she could respond. "What is your end game here, Talia? You aren't even a part of the investigation anymore!"

"I want the serial killer caught, and I think I can do this without dragging you into the investigation," I replied.

"How," Colleen asked.

"By providing the information directly without using your name. I can tell the investigators you are my confidential witness." They didn't seem convinced. "What choice do you have? If you don't trust me on this, you'll get a grand jury subpoena within a week!"

"Why should we trust you, Talia?"

"I believe Tracy Hardin wasn't his first victim. I think the killer knew her, knew about Tracy's submissive desires and was trusted enough to be allowed in her apartment after ten o'clock on a Sunday night. You already verified Lars and Tracy were part of the Society. You could say that because Tracy was dead and Lars resigned, correct?"

"Yes. The confidentiality agreements only extend to active members of the Society."

"Was Allison Decker a member of the Society?"

Mistress Tatiana looked to her lawyer, then shook her head. "No. Allison was a party favor."