The Girls in the Snow (Nikki Hunt #1) - Stacy Green Page 0,39
knew how monsters worked. Leave me alone.”
She stalked over to help Courtney with her equipment.
“What’s going on? Why is the owner giving you so much grief?” Courtney asked.
“It’s Mark Todd’s brother.” Nikki put her hands in her pockets to hide their shaking. She wasn’t going to be pushed around while she was trying to do her job. “If you find anything questionable, Miller has people on standby who can impound the vehicle for you.”
Courtney’s head moved up and down, but her gaze focused over Nikki’s shoulder. “He’s coming over here.”
Nikki turned around, bracing for another nasty remark.
“Mark was never a monster until you made him one.” Rory’s voice cracked and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t mean to disrespect you. I’m just asking for ten minutes of your time. Please.”
She wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he be mean to her instead of compassionate? Dealing with killers was easy. But instead of coming at her loaded with anger and ego, Rory seemed almost contrite. He jammed his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and looked down at her with a far softer gaze than she deserved.
“I know what it’s like to have people constantly coming at you. Everyone wants a piece of you. It’s like they thrive off of the most miserable moments in other people’s lives. We’re not all that different, if you think about it.” He flushed a new shade of red. “I mean, what happened to your parents is worse than anything I went through, but the attention and all…” Rory looked down at his boots. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“I do.” Nikki had been thinking the same thing on the drive from the station. She sighed. “Listen, I do have to prioritize this case, and forensics are on the clock. I’ll probably be at the government center late this afternoon. If you see my jeep, ask the front desk to speak with me. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” Rory’s voice sounded tight. “Thank you.”
Nikki nodded curtly and then turned her back to him. “Test for blood and any bodily fluids. And keep an eye out for anything that looks like it might belong to a teenaged girl.”
Plenty of seasoned experts would be offended at Nikki giving them basic instructions even a new CSI would know to do.
Courtney murmured her agreement and kept working.
“Thanks, Court.”
“Anytime.”
Thirteen
Nikki sat with Sergeant Miller in the staff room at Stillwater High School, flanked by the principal and assistant principal. The office decor and the faces were new, but the room was familiar to Nikki. Her freshman year, Nikki had skipped her last classes to walk to the ice cream parlor with Scott Taylor, a boy she’d had a crush on since grade school. She hadn’t made it off campus when one of the teacher’s aides spotted her. Nikki’s parents had been furious, and she’d endured in-school suspension for three days. Sophomore year, she’d been caught making out with a boy in the copy room; a couple of months later, she’d started a food fight in home economics. She wondered if schools even taught that now, but thinking about junior year would only bring more misery, and she wasn’t certain she could keep a calm façade after the encounter with Rory. She refocused on the case and the students she and Miller had come to see arrived.
“Okay, girls.” The principal’s soft voice and laidback manner were reserved for this sort of occasion. “You’ve spoken with Sergeant Miller already, but this is Agent Nikki Hunt with the FBI. She has some questions about Kaylee and Madison.”
The four girls sat in a row across from Nikki. Despite varying skin tones and haircuts, they all looked alike: expensive wool boots—the brown shade every girl seemed to own—skinny jeans or leggings, form-fitting shirts and too much makeup.
A tall, willowy girl with silky, black hair crossed her legs and eyed Nikki. She was confident and well-aware of it. Nikki checked her list of names. “Are you Jade?”
The girl nodded. “My mom went to high school with you.”
“Oh, really? What’s her name?” As much as Nikki needed to make a connection with these girls, delving into her high school years was a slippery slope. The last two had been nothing but misery and grief.
“Connie. Her maiden name was Butler. I think you graduated the same year.”
Connie Butler had been the stereotypical popular girl loved by all the teachers and loathed by most of the school because of her bullying. The confidence