The Girls in the Snow (Nikki Hunt #1) - Stacy Green Page 0,3

the girls’ heads, her nose within an inch of their faces.

“What’s she doing?” Miller asked.

Courtney looked at Nikki and slightly shook her head. Frost always used bleach to wipe his victims clean, including their clothes. They’d smelled bleach on every Frost victim so far, and Nikki firmly believed Frost wouldn’t deviate from that routine. Like the body position, that crucial detail had been kept out of the media, and Nikki could count on her team not sharing the information until they were certain about trusting Miller. Nikki didn’t know Miller well enough yet.

“I’m just trying to figure out how long they were covered with snow,” Courtney said. “What do you think?”

“A few days, at least,” Miller said. “This nasty wind helped expose them.”

Liam glanced at Sergeant Miller. “No offense, but I don’t think this is the Frost Killer’s work.”

“Neither does he,” Nikki said. “Sergeant, what do you know about the farmer who owns the ground?”

“He’s around our age, inherited the family farm. No record of any sort. Son’s fourteen, never been in any trouble.”

Nikki looked at Liam, who shivered in the brisk wind. “Is the truck almost here?”

“The rolling freezer?” Liam asked. “Yeah.”

“First time I’ve seen it used,” Sergeant Miller said. “Never dreamed it would be for two little girls instead of some poor soul who fell through the ice.”

Courtney crouched beside Madison, using her high-powered magnifier on the girl’s jeans. “God, this wind is a bitch. Any trace evidence is probably long gone unless it’s frozen in the clothes.”

“Boss, why don’t you go warm up in your car and wait for the morgue truck? I’ll stay with them.” Liam circled the bodies, taking pictures with the digital camera.

Nikki would normally refuse, but her damned feet and hands ached from the cold.

Her mind raced ahead as she and Miller walked back in silence. Given the frozen state of the bodies, Nikki understood why Sheriff Hardin wanted to inform her. But with her family’s name in the news again, Nikki wondered if Hardin hadn’t jumped at the chance to bring her into town. She hadn’t set foot in Stillwater in nearly twenty years, and despite the desolate location, it felt like the town was already suffocating her.

Now that she was sure it wasn’t Frost, she could hand the investigation back to the local police. Nikki could go back to St. Paul and keep Stillwater in her past, where it belonged. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to get the image of the two girls lying dead in the snow out of her head.

“Shit,” Miller hissed. “Someone must have tipped her off.”

Nikki shielded her eyes against the blowing snow. A four-door pickup had parked in front of Nikki’s jeep. The woman behind the wheel watched as the refrigerated truck ambled down the drive and came to a stop behind the sergeant’s cruiser. She typed something into her phone, and then checked her reflection in the rearview mirror.

“It’s Caitlin Newport,” Miller said. “She’s—”

“I know who she is.” Caitlin’s last true-crime documentary had helped get a death-row inmate a new trial. In 2000, Fred Elwood was convicted of the brutal murder of his sixty-eight-year-old mother-in-law. His young niece testified she’d hidden in the closet and was certain her uncle had committed the murder, but she later recanted her story. DNA evidence had finally exonerated Elwood last year.

Caitlin hopped out of the pickup and pulled a hat over her honey-colored hair. She scanned the scene before zipping her coat to her chin and striding through the snow as though she had every right to intrude on a crime scene.

Instead of designer snow boots and a figure-flattering coat, Caitlin had opted for bulky snow pants and a well-worn parka. Caitlin didn’t usually dress so sensibly, and Nikki could tell she was trying to blend in with the locals. Sunglasses hid her shrewd eyes, but Nikki still felt the weight of the filmmaker’s stare.

“My guys will take care of her.” Miller motioned to the two pink-cheeked deputies tasked with standing in the frigid weather and keeping the scene clear.

The taller deputy blocked the reporter’s path, shaking his head. Caitlin looked up at him with a bemused expression and then pointed toward Nikki.

“It’s okay, deputy.” Nikki eyed the reporter.

Caitlin smiled at the deputy as he stepped aside. She strode through the snow like a prize fighter, her attention squarely on Nikki.

Nikki raised her hand in warning. “Don’t step over that crime scene tape.”

“I know the rules, Agent.” Caitlin’s friendliness was about as real as her hair color.