Killer Dreams Ch. 56-60

"Why? Why would Dad be there," Lana asked.

"The police aren't saying much, but their search warrant specifically names items from the Hardin Book killings. The death of Tracy Hardin is the only thing that ties it together. Lars was the fiancé, and the undercover detective was on the case for Saint Paul Homicide." He paused as we processed the information. "You can expect leaks and press statements over the next few days that will be difficult for you to take. Press interest is off the charts."

"Where do the three of us sit legally," Lana asked.

"At this point, none of you are named suspects. The FBI wants to question you, and they are conducting an extensive search of your home. When you are ready, we'll travel to the FBI offices for the interviews."

"What should we say?"

Hardy shrugged. "The truth. It's my job to protect your rights. If there is any doubt, write it down or whisper it in my ear. We can even kick them out of the room if we need to talk freely. Were any of you aware of your father's criminal activities, or participate in the deaths of Allison Decker, Tracy Hardin, Vanessa Miles, or Doctor Raul Ibanez?" We all said no. "Then you've committed no crimes."

I'd been thinking about my exposure on the drive since I'd moved Dad's money offshore before he flew home. "What about the trust and the financial transactions since Dad sold the company? Can that be voided? Could I face charges for money laundering or something?"

Dad's lawyer answered first. "I'm sure the FBI's Financial Crimes division will look into it, but everything we did was completely legal with all taxes paid. That includes you moving his liquid assets to offshore accounts. They can try to go after them, but," and he looked at Misty.

"Good luck with that," she said. "The Feds can seize assets if they have evidence of an ongoing criminal conspiracy or fruits of illegal activities. Your father sold a business he and your mother built over almost four decades. Allison's murder was five weeks ago."

"What about the family trust," Lisa asked. "I just signed those papers yesterday."

"And I executed the financial transactions as soon as the last signature hit the paper," the attorney responded. "The trust is in place, and his portions of that trust does not have to go through probate. Under the terms, your father's share is split equally between you. Since the assets automatically transfer to the beneficiaries within the trust, nobody can touch them. They aren't part of his estate."

"What about his life insurance? Or what he didn't put into the trust?"

Misty shook her head. "Life insurance won't pay out because your father died during the conduct of his illegal activity. You can expect multiple wrongful death or injury lawsuits against his remaining estate. The statute of limitations to file is three years, and we can't complete probate until they are all resolved. Anything left after those lawsuits is distributed per his will."

I leaned back. "I don't want to profit off my father's crimes," I said. "If the claims are true? Dad hurt a lot of families."

"You can't offer anything beyond an apology and a settlement check," Misty replied. "I'll handle the civil litigation against your father's estate. The faster we settle things, the better for everyone."

"Be generous," I told her. "Dad made sure we'd never lack money. I don't care if I get another cent from his estate." My sisters agreed. "Anything else?"

"The search warrant may not finish today," Hardy said as he looked up from his phone. "My associate will get Margarite inside with an escort to pack bags for you."

"Have her pack for a week," Lana replied. "The place has been a madhouse. We need to go somewhere else until things calm down."

"I'll pass the message," Hardy said. We talked about things for another half-hour before it was time to leave again.

The photographers were waiting outside and were waiting for us when we arrived at the police station in Edina. My interview lasted past dinnertime, and I was starving and crabby. Three hours in a room responding to questions I didn't have answers to wasn't fun.

When I finished, Lisa was waiting for me, but Lana was still in there. Hardy went outside to talk on the phone and smoke a cigarette, leaving us alone. "How are you doing?"

"I still can't believe it," Lisa said. "What do we do now?"

I leaned back until my head hit the wall, closing my eyes. "I don't know. We've got to get away from this place."

"The FBI has our passports, and I don't know if Dad's friend would let us stay at his beach house now."

"Yeah." The front door to the station opened, and I could hear the press shouting outside. I looked up and immediately recognized the man. "What is David Hardin doing here?"

He checked in with the Desk Sergeant, who told him to wait in the chairs by us. He stopped as he recognized me. "Laura Klinesmith?" He offered a hand to me.

"Brickline now. I went back to my maiden name after the divorce." I shook it quickly, then turned to my side. "This is my sister, Lisa."

"I'm a big fan," she told him with a smile.

He sat next to me in the row of chairs. "It's weird when the cheering section outside isn't for me," he said.

"I'm so sorry you went through that too. It seems only the innocent are left to suffer."

He nodded. "You have nothing to apologize for, Laura. You didn't know, and their actions were their own."

I laughed. "You might be the only one who believes that."

He reached out and took my hand. "I know how you feel. I spent weeks hiding at my house when half the world thought I was a serial killer. Friends wouldn't let their kids be around me, and I had to sneak around to do anything. It got so bad the delivery places wouldn't bring me food anymore! Thankfully, the road to it is private, and as long as you don't walk the beach, they can't see anything from the road. My dog and my view of Lake Superior were my only refuge."

"That sounds like heaven right now," I said.

He thought for a minute. "Can I borrow a pen and a piece of paper?"

I dug around in my purse and found one. David wrote some things down and handed the paper to me. "I'm staying here until my friend gets released from the hospital, and that could be weeks. That's my address, the gate code, and the code to my door and security system. You and your sisters are welcome to use my place until you can get more permanent arrangements."

I looked down at the paper in shock. "I can't accept this from you! My Dad tried to frame you for murder!"

"Exactly," he replied. "No one in the world would suspect that you three are staying in my house. Besides, Rocky would love the attention."

"Your dog?"

"Yeah, my Border Collie. He's a sucker for new faces. Think about it, Laura. We can both use some friends."

He got called into a room and returned before Lana did. "How are you getting out of here without a parade," he asked me.

"I don't know." That was when Lana emerged with Mr. Smacken.

"Maybe I can help. Can you get a car to meet you somewhere, someone that the press won't follow?"

I nodded. "Our housekeeper has her minivan and our luggage. She picked up dinner and is waiting for us to get done."

"I've got a plan." He filled us in, and it worked like a charm. Hardy had the limo brought out front and stood by it, the press gathered around it and shouting questions. We weren't there, though. David had left five minutes earlier, driving to the loading dock where we piled into his SUV. Nobody saw us driving off, and we met Margarite in the parking lot of a nearby church. "Drive straight there if you can. Stay out of sight, and let Margarite pick up anything you need. Rocky won't leave the property unless he's on a leash, so you can let him out when he scratches at the door. I'll let Jennifer know you're coming, and she can show you how to use everything."

"Your girlfriend?" I didn't want to intrude.

"My fourteen-year-old neighbor and dog sitter," he said with a chuckle. "She'll keep your secret if you feed her pizza."

I had to laugh at that. "You're a good man, David. Thank you," I said as I pulled him into a hug. I got in the passenger seat and buckled up. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Pray for Talia to recover. I need my love back," he said as he closed the door.

It hit me as we drove away from the dark lot. He was here because the woman he loved was in intensive care after the shootout with our father.

We all prayed for her as we sneaked out of the Twin Cities.

Chapter 60

David Hardin's POV

Fairview-Southdale Hospital, Edina, Minnesota

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

"Relax, David. It won't be long now."

"I know, Fiona, but I can't help it." I looked at the clock, counting the minutes until visiting hours began. Talia was moved from the Intensive Care Unit to a regular hospital bed after morning rounds. Over the weekend, the swelling in her brain had healed enough to close her skull up. On Monday, Talia went back into surgery for a cranioplasty. The surgeons replaced the missing bone above her right temple with a fancy bioplastic made to the exact dimensions on a 3-d printer. This surgery was the last step before bringing her out of her healing coma.

Yesterday, she had awoken for the first time since the shooting two weeks earlier. Her breathing tube was out, and her throat was sore, but she recognized her Mom and whispered that she loved her.

I broke down right there when she told me the news.

It wasn't all good. Talia had no memory of the events of that night, which was a blessing. She would forever carry the scars and feel the effects, though. Thomas had carved the word SLUT in six-inch-tall letters on her back while raping her. The stitches were out now, but the scars were forever.

The damaged area of her brain controlled motor function on her left side and left her with partial paralysis. She could move her arm and leg, but not smoothly and with difficulty. It was too early to tell if this would be permanent or improve with time and physical therapy. "The brain can rewire itself given time and therapy," the doctors told us. "We won't know for at least a year how much of the damage is permanent. She will need a wheelchair now. In time, she may learn to walk again."

The move meant she could have visitors beyond immediate family, so I could finally see her. This floor was a welcome change from the space I'd sat for most of the past two weeks. My persistence demonstrated to her parents how much I loved her.

The hours I spent with William and Fiona at the hospital took me from a stranger in their life to a trusted confidante. William had to work, and Fiona couldn't be here all the time. They would use my hotel suite if they needed to rest without driving home. During the lonely hours of my vigil, I'd work on my fifth book and watch the news coverage.

It turned out my book was not as lost as I thought. My lawyer had a clone of my hard drive from after the first search warrant and mailed the file when I asked. The dream I'd had was true, but my interpretation was not. Since it couldn't happen again, I returned to the story, changing the death scene to something more random. Valerie was thrilled I was back in the saddle. At my current rate, I'd have the first draft done by early December.

I hadn't been home since that first day. The three Brickline sisters were still hiding from the world up there, and we video-chatted at least once a day. Jennifer showed them how to work the endless pool and hot tub, and with the weight set, they started working out daily.

The press was desperate to find them, but her lawyers refused to let anyone know their whereabouts. What was clear was that they could never go home again. There were too many memories, and too much notoriety. The three agreed to sell their Minnetonka home, with Margarite working to store or sell off the contents.

Their professional lives took a hit as well. Laura's company 'allowed' her to resign for the good of everyone, ending her career of the last ten years. She kept busy managing her father's estate. Lana's surgical residency was on hold after hospital security revoked her badge. Lana did nothing wrong, but they didn't want the publicity or the security headaches. Who wanted the daughter of a man who carved women up as their surgeon? Lisa worked with her advisors to continue her semester online, but campus visits wouldn't happen. She would transfer once they knew where they would go next.

The consolation was their family trust meant none would ever have to work if they didn't want to. The FBI had returned their passports as the investigation waned, but they didn't know where to go. The three girls knew they'd have to leave Minnesota, and probably the United States, to have a life again. I couldn't give them any suggestions, as I'd never traveled. Their lawyers had filed paperwork to change their last names and get new passports before they came out of hiding.

Just after one, the nurse came out and told us we could see her now, but she would be sleeping for a few hours. It took all of my self-control to keep from breaking into a run. I was a good boy, letting her Mom go in first to take the chair on the right side of the bed. I moved to the back side, my heart skipping a beat as I looked at her.

Most of her blonde hair was gone, with thick bandages wrapping around her head to protect the injury. She'd lost a lot of weight that she didn't have to lose; her face looked gaunt, and the skin on her arms looked loose. I sat down, working my way around the wires and tubes until I had her left hand in mine. Leaning down, I kissed it. "Hi, my love. You rest, and I'll be here when you wake up."

I talked to Talia while she slept, telling her stories about my book tour and Rocky's adventures with the new house guests. By four-thirty, my girl opened her eyes. "Welcome back, my love," I told her.

"David," she whispered.

I leaned forward, giving her a light kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry, baby."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she replied. "I was stupid and reckless."

"Well, I was stubborn and jumped to conclusions, so call it even?"

She nodded, and I squeezed her hand slightly. "I can feel that, but I can't squeeze you back."

"It will get better," I promised. "I love you, Talia Devine."

"I love you, David Hardin." I moved up again, this time for a deeper kiss. I ended it when I heard a throat clearing behind me.

"I guess I'm chopped liver," Fiona complained.

I laughed at that while Talia moved her head to the other side. "I knew you were here, Mom, but it's my first time seeing David. We can't have a moment?"

"I don't care how old you are, Talia. No swapping spit in front of me."

"You could step out of the room for ten minutes," I teased.

"Twenty, at least," Talia joined in.

"Thirty for a proper session," I added.

"And sixty plus guarding the door if you want a grandchild out of it," Talia finished.

Fiona smacked her hand. "You were easier to handle in a coma," she said as she stood up. "You've got a good man here. I'm going to step out and call your father, but I could come back in at any time, and I won't knock."

"Lock the door?"

"Hospital doors don't lock," she said knowingly. "Behave."

I watched her leave, then moved up to sit on the bed next to her. "How are you?"

"I'm tired, my head hurts, and my body isn't listening to me," she complained. "I'm here, though. The doctors say I'm lucky."

"We almost lost you, honey."

"I know."

Any thought of messing around went away with the knock on the door. Captain Cullen and Detective Maloney poked their heads in. "We heard you were awake," the Captain said.

"Mom's a no-fun smurf," Talia reacted.

"And so is your partner," Cullen replied. "I hate to do this, but we need to get a statement from you now that you're awake."

"As a civilian or a cop?"

"You're still Detective Devine. I seem to have lost that paper you gave me." He took a moment to explain her status. Internal Affairs closed out the investigation into her conduct and her suspension retroactively ended. The official explanation was that the suspension was to support her undercover work. As such, her status was 'injured on duty' and she would remain on paid leave until cleared for duty or medical retirement. "We wouldn't have looked beyond Klinesmith if you hadn't been so damn stubborn," the Captain said.

She insisted I stay for the questioning, which went for about twenty minutes. I remembered everything until we left for Mistress Tatiana's dungeon; the doctors said my short-term memories of the dungeon might never return. "Why would you go in with so little backup," James asked her.

"It's not like you or Molly's Lieutenant would sign off on my idea, and we didn't have enough probable cause for a warrant," Talia said. "I thought I'd be safe with the video surveillance, the wire, and the distress button hidden in my belt buckle. We'd get the confession on tape, Molly would call in backup, and we'd take him when he left the dungeon. She believed what Mistress Tatiana said, that he'd never do anything to me on her property."

"Molly apologized for that," I told her. "The dungeon was designed to block radio transmissions in or out. Molly should have aborted when she couldn't hear you anymore. She blames herself for your injuries."

"I knew the risks," she replied. "Did it work? Is Thomas in jail?"

"He's dead, Talia. Shot when Edina police made a dynamic entry to the dungeon to save you."

"Did he confess first?"

James shook his head. "Not before Thomas stopped the recording. What we recovered shows Lars Anderson attacking Thomas with a knife. Thomas shooting him would be self-defense. There was no confession on tape and nothing we could charge him with."

"And we've found nothing solid that ties him to the book murders since," Captain Cullen said. "He wouldn't need a trial. If Thomas had walked out of the dungeon after killing Lars? He would have gotten away with everything. All the other witnesses were dead."

"He didn't. He went after you and paid the price," I said.

James looked down at his notebook. "I think we have all we need," he told her. "If any memories of the dungeon come back, let us know. Otherwise, you need to rest and heal up."

"You can expect more visitors starting tomorrow," the Captain said. "I held everyone back until we'd gotten your statement, and visiting hours will be over soon."

I caught her grimacing in pain. "What's going on?"

"Headache," she said. She pressed the nurse call button.

"That's our cue to leave," James said. "You're a hell of a detective, Talia. I'll stop by later for the unofficial visit."

"Thanks, partner. I'm sorry I made such a mess of it, Captain."

The two left the room, leaving me alone with her. "I'm going to spank that ass until it glows when I get you home. Santa's going to bend you over the front of the sleigh and use it instead of Rudolph's nose for the night."

"Promise, sir?"

Cheeky wench. I reached over, grasping a nipple and pinching hard. She sucked in a breath, taking the pain. "I'm going to play this hot body like a fiddle. Cum for me, my needy slut."

Talia's eyes closed, her mouth opened, and her hips rolled as the orgasm washed over her. I let go as the nurse came in, followed by her Mom. "I'll go for now, but I'll be back in the morning," I promised. "Rest up, my love."

I felt her grip my hand just a little. Looking down, I smiled. "You're going to recover, Talia. We'll make sure of it."