Killer Dreams Ch. 11-15

He laughed. "You got that right. I'll contact you if anything changes."

The press was waiting for us when we got home. I refused to make a statement, but the cameras were all over our car as we waited for the Deputy to let us through. I'd have to do something for the neighbors sometime; I'm sure they didn't expect to deal with this crap.

My cleaning lady had come while we were gone, and the mess in the office was gone. Larry helped me set up the new computer, and I spent a lot of time that afternoon getting it up and running. When I downloaded my emails, there were a bunch from my editor begging me to call her. I started up one of the burner phones, used a Sharpie to label it "Valerie," and called the office. "New Line Publishing, Valerie Nolan's office; this is Jennifer."

"Jennifer, it's David Hardin returning Valerie's call."

"David! Hold on, please!" A few moments later, Valerie picked up. "David! Thank you for calling back."

"My apologies, Valerie. The police took my phones."

"You've been a little busy, David."

"I guess. Look, the BCA took my computer and my backup drive. My lawyer says it could be years to get it back."

"How much of the draft do they have?"

I thought about it for a second. "I had the whole novel outlined, some scenes written, and just under half complete."

"Shit. Tell your lawyer we want to help, and I'll have our General Counsel reach out to him. She believes that since you took an advance for the book, the draft is technically our property. If the search warrant didn't specifically name the books, we should have the files returned to us." Hey, that worked for me! I promised to call and let him know. "Meanwhile, remember that any publicity is good publicity. We've seen a big bump in your sales this week. Killer Dreams might get back on the bestseller list. Can we get you to do an interview? It would help a lot."

I hated the marketing side of writing with a passion. Valerie kept trying. "My answer hasn't changed, Valerie. I did the press conference because I had to."

"Think about it. Please?" I said goodbye and went back to work.

That evening over beers on the back deck, Larry finally asked the question. "Are you going to Tracy's funeral on Friday?"

I let out a breath. "I'd like to go, but I don't want my presence to turn it into a circus."

Larry laughed. "Shit, David, it's too late for that. After today, there are three rings, and you're in one of them."

"Do you think I should go, partner?"

He nodded. "You show up to honor Tracy and to support her family. Have you asked them what they think?"

"No."

"Then get a phone and ask them," he said.

I went back inside and called, getting their voicemail. I should have known; if the press was this bad for me, it must be hell for them. I told them I planned to attend but would stay away if that would cause any problems. I went back out and sat next to the fire ring. "They aren't answering."

"I have to head back tomorrow, David. I can't get out of the shifts this weekend."

He'd already taken time off for me. "That's fine, Larry. I'm doing better now, and I appreciate you coming up here."

"Come with me, David. You can stay at my place, and I'll get you to the funeral. Hell, we could stop by the precinct. Some of the guys there would love to see you again."

I rolled my eyes; cops and murder suspects? There was another big problem. "The funeral isn't until Friday, and your apartment doesn't allow pets. What the hell am I going to do with Rocky?"

I didn't want to kennel him. Luckily, one of the neighbors had a 14-year-old daughter who loved to play with Rocky. A quick walk to their house, and I had a petsitter for the weekend.

Larry had to work Thursday night, so he wanted to leave early and get some sleep at home. That meant getting up at three in the morning. At three-thirty, all the press guys were still in their hotel rooms, and I was still tired. I didn't wake up until we got to Minneapolis.

I didn't watch television much, but I had it on in the background this morning after Larry went to bed. The tabloids were going nuts, breathlessly publishing rumors and gossip. I saw myself on the screen more than I wanted. It was Lars they went after with a vengeance. He wasn't talking to them, and that just made things worse.

Larry brought me into the precinct that night, my first time back here since the Chief congratulated me on my retirement. Larry arranged for a few of them to take me for dinner, and I had a great time sharing stories until after midnight.

"You ready for this," Larry said as we walked towards the St. Paul Cathedral.

A half-dozen television stations had trucks outside, hundreds of people on the steps, and carried live? Half the people thought I killed her, while the other half thought I broke her heart. What, me worry? I adjusted the tie on my black suit and walked with him to the steps. The reporters spotted me well before we arrived. Cameras were in my face, and reporters shouted questions as I followed Larry through the crowd. "No comment," I said as I pushed through.

Luckily, it was an invitation-only event, so the crowds and the press couldn't follow us inside the Cathedral doors. I looked around, spotting Craig and Tori Thompson near a large photograph of Tracy in the lobby. "I have to pay my respects," I told Larry as I walked over.

I couldn't imagine what they were going through. Tracy's parents had always been good to me, even after I started treating their only daughter like crap. Tori saw me and nudged Craig. He whispered apologies and moved the guests along as I approached. "Craig, Tori, I'm so sorry."

Tori took a single step my way, looking deep into my eyes. Her grief filled her eyes, and my heart went out to her.

Then she slapped the shit out of me. "NOW you show up? Tracy never stopped loving you, and now it's too late!"

She started beating her hands on my chest as she broke down. I wrapped my arms around her as her anger turned to sorrow. "I know," I said as she cried on my shoulder. "I loved her too."