The Girls in the Snow (Nikki Hunt #1) - Stacy Green Page 0,35
they’d be able to begin examining the bodies, so her staff wouldn’t even consider trying to remove the girls’ clothes yet. The medical examiner expected to start the autopsies in five days, but she’d cautioned Courtney that she wasn’t going to rush things and risk losing evidence, no matter how hard they pushed. “I know we’re still in a holding pattern with the evidence from the bodies, but we have leads to follow now. You’ll all have read Miller’s notes from the missing persons investigation. Is there someone else who knew Madison or Kaylee who hasn’t been interviewed? And are there any holes in those stories? I think there are things we don’t know about Kaylee’s mom’s boyfriend, Ricky. Courtney, Sergeant Miller has a warrant to search his truck, so I’d like you to follow us out there.”
Courtney nodded. “I’m good to go. I’ve been going through Madison’s social media accounts, trying to come up with something. But so far, she’s the typical teenager.”
“Look for pictures of Kaylee in Madison’s social media, too. And let’s interview their friends again. Liam, I think Kaylee had a phone. She didn’t have a lot of pocket money, so likely a pre-paid phone. Madison’s phone has been off, but is there any way the cell companies could pinpoint a connection from a pre-paid phone during the time the girls were supposed to be walking to the Hansons’ house?”
“I’m not sure without the number. We don’t even know what carrier she might have had. And if it’s pre-paid, the text messages are long gone. Most carriers don’t keep records for pre-paid calls.”
“I know it’s a long shot,” Nikki said, “but I need you to visit the Stillwater carriers who provide pre-paid services. You’ll be able to work up a list easily enough. Take Kaylee’s picture around, see if someone happens to remember her. We’ll need a warrant to contact the carriers about pings, and if you can find an employee who remembers her—or a manager who’s willing to go through old security footage—we might be able to get records.”
“I’ll do my best. That’s probably going to be several locations, so it might take a couple of days to get the right contact at all of them.”
“That’s fine. I know you’ll be as efficient as possible. And let’s begin searching for places with industrial freezers—what sort of places could have held Madison and Kaylee’s bodies, and who had access to those places?” Nikki looked at Miller. “Did you find out where Ricky’s working this morning?”
“New construction by the lake,” Miller said. “I can drive, if you’d like.”
“That works for me.” Nikki preferred her own vehicle, but Miller’s cruiser offered an extra layer of protection against Newport.
Nikki sighed with relief as Miller exited the parking lot. There was no sign of the protesters or Newport. “Thanks for the ride,” she said.
“Just made sense,” Miller replied.
“It does, but I appreciate the buffer if that woman shows up.”
“I had no idea she was doing a documentary on your parents,” Miller said. “I bet money she’s brought in the protesters. They’re probably paid.”
“She’s got Mark’s family believing he has a chance at being exonerated. You think she cares about them?”
“She does as long as they’re useful,” Miller said. “If she shows up at this construction site, someone’s leaking information. I can’t believe she’s doing this when we’re trying to find out who murdered those kids.”
Nikki bit her lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. Local police often had issue with the FBI coming in and taking over, but Miller seemed to be just the opposite, and Nikki suspected that had to do with his guilt over not finding Madison and Kaylee. “I’ve gone through the case file twice. You did everything you could.”
“It wasn’t enough.” Miller sighed.
“Sometimes it isn’t,” Nikki said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re to blame. The sad truth is that we can’t save them all, especially when it comes to missing kids. You know the statistics as well as I do.”
An awkward silence fell between them.
Nikki started to ask about turning the radio on when she noticed the pictures. “Are those your daughters?”
Two wallet-sized school pictures of grinning, gap-toothed girls were taped to Miller’s radio.
“Yep. Six and nine. It’s all estrogen in my house.”
“That’s going to be rough in a few years.”
“I don’t even want to think about it. The little one’s boy-crazy, too. She kissed some boy at recess last week. My wife thought it was hilarious.”