by Stacy Green
“Kaylee’s mom works long hours at a nursing home,” Miller said. “She was at work all day. Madison’s mother went to visit her parents in Northfield. Her stepdad works for a pharmaceutical company. He had a business meeting with a client in downtown Minneapolis. Restaurant receipts verified a lunch meeting around the time Madison and Kaylee left for their friend’s.”
The stepdad had at least an hour’s drive time both ways, and probably more. “You’re certain the stepdad was in Minneapolis?”
“At the time they left the house, yes. We have security-camera footage of the girls leaving shortly after Madison sent the text to her friend,” Miller said. “And a witness saw them on the trail not far from Madison’s house. They disappeared at some point after that.”
“When did the stepdad come home?” Nikki asked.
Miller handed her a dog-eared evidence file. “He went to the office. Entered at 3:00 p.m., left shortly after 7:00 p.m. Kaylee’s mother went to the Hansons’ to pick up Kaylee. When she realized the girls had never arrived, she called him, and he rushed right out of the office.”
Nikki sifted through the notes. Miller’s neat handwriting was easy to read, and his records appeared to be thorough. “What about her real father?”
“Left when she was little and lives in California. His alibi is rock solid. He was in the hospital with kidney stones.”
“What about the other kids Kaylee hangs out with?”
“She was kind of a loner. Her cousin lives in Hudson, and Kaylee started hanging out with her and her friends over the summer,” Miller said. “Everyone she was known to hang out with was accounted for.”
“But Kaylee didn’t come around much after they got caught partying. Her cousin hadn’t talked to her since before she got her phone taken away.” Hardin shrugged. “I’d like to think she would have told us that Kaylee had a secret phone, but…” He spread his hands wide. “You know teenagers.”
Nikki chest tightened, but she didn’t look up from her notes. Everyone drove across the river to Hudson for fireworks and Wisconsin beer. “Teenagers lie to police all the time. And they’re a lot smarter than we were. Most of them know you can’t look at their phone without a warrant. And you’d never get one without a lot more evidence.”
“Madison had a decent-sized social circle at the high school,” Miller said. “None of their friends had anything bad to say about either girl.”
“Which is suspect in itself.” No matter how fast the world changed, the behavior of teenage girls remained predictable. There was no way some other girl didn’t have a grudge against one or both of them.
“Teachers were a different story,” Miller added. “Madison was the golden kid, but Kaylee was a problem child who didn’t live up to her potential and had a smart mouth. She spent a couple of afternoons in detention.”
“If it were just Kaylee, I’d have suspected she ran away when she was first reported as missing. But Madison isn’t the type,” Hardin said. “Lots of similarities to your Frost murders. That’s why I invited you to check things out.”
Hardin wasn’t an idiot. He’d known the chances of Frost committing these murders were slim. He’d more than likely used the case as a reason to get her back to Stillwater and defer some of Newport’s attention away from him and onto Nikki. “Evidence suggests it isn’t him.”
Hardin nodded. “That was my thinking, but Sergeant Miller thought differently.”
Miller’s face heated. “I agreed with you that we shouldn’t ignore the possibility.”
Nikki resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I believe we’re looking for someone who knew the girls. Not a serial killer. However, as I told Sergeant Miller earlier, if we let the public believe Frost is an option, then the killer might feel safe and make a mistake.”
“Good strategy.” Hardin’s narrow eyes studied her. “You catch serial killers, though, right? If this isn’t Frost, you have no reason to stay.”
Staying likely meant having to deal with Caitlin Newport as well as the scrutiny of Mark Todd’s appeal. Was Nikki really ready for that? Probably not, but she couldn’t walk away now. “That’s not all I do. I’d like to stay and help.”
Miller’s phone buzzed. His face turned ashen. “Madison’s family is here. God, I hate this part.”
So did Nikki. She saw herself in every family member’s face. “I’ll go with you, if you’d like. Sometimes it’s easier if you don’t know the family well.”
Hardin cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Miller. “She doesn’t know?”
“I wasn’t sure how to tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
“Madison’s stepfather is John Banks. He’s raised her since she was little, after her real dad split.”
Nikki’s chest tightened. John Banks had been her first everything, until her parents died and she shut out the world. He was the one she’d been with the night her parents had been murdered. She hadn’t seen him in years, and his face would be a stark reminder of the things she’d run away from.
Three
“I meant to mention it earlier,” Miller said as soon as they left Hardin’s office. “I hope it doesn’t stop you from helping us out.”
Nikki walked briskly down the hall, her composure already in hand. Like every other damned thing about Stillwater, her and John’s relationship was in the past. “It’s okay. You don’t mind my coming with you?”
“Not at all.” Miller glanced at her sheepishly. “This is bad timing, but I guess you don’t remember me.”
She stopped and stared at him, mentally running through her admittedly sparse memories of high school. “Should I?”
“I was a couple of years behind you in school. I remember how crazy things were after that night.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve forgotten a lot of stuff from high school.”
They walked to the family area in awkward silence. Nikki sifted through her memories, trying to place Miller. He was several inches taller than her, in good shape. She’d spotted a pair of running shoes in the back of his car.
“Wait. Kenny Miller who broke the school’s single-season rushing yards record?”
Miller grinned. “That’s me.” He glanced at the closed door. “Thanks again for coming with me. Just to warn you, Madison’s mother has gotten more aggressive since the case went cold. That’s why I ended up telling them over the phone that we’d found the girls instead of waiting until they got here. She wouldn’t accept anything else. She’s grieving, so I try to give her the benefit of the doubt. But she can be pretty blunt. Just don’t take it personal.”
“It’s likely easier for her to channel her grief into anger,” Nikki said. “And I’ve got pretty thick skin, so don’t worry about me.”
The door flew open before Miller could reach for it, and John Banks filled the space. Nikki had forgotten how John towered over most people. His height had been one of the things that made him so successful in track.
“John, I’m so sorry,” Miller said.
“You’re certain it’s our daughter?” Amy Banks looked like the perfect Stepford wife, right down to the manicured nails and blond hair. She hovered behind John, her arms wrapped around her petite frame. The fierceness in her eyes was every bit as intimidating as John’s stature. He stared down at Nikki, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. “That’s why the FBI’s been called in, isn’t it?”
Sergeant Miller nodded. “You’ll need to make official identifications, but yes, I’m certain it’s Madison. I’ve seen her body myself. Kaylee’s too.”
Amy stepped back as though she’d been slapped. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “It can’t be her.”
“I’m sorry, Amy.” Miller’s soft voice seemed to shatter the last of her resolve.
“Excuse me.” Amy bolted from the room, her sobs echoing down the hall.
“Give her a minute.” John sat down. He still looked lean and fit, his blond hair flecked with gray. Diamond cufflinks deco
rated his designer shirt. John stared at the table, lost in his grief.
“I’m sorry for your loss, John.”
He looked at her with bleary eyes. “It really is you, isn’t it? I thought I was going crazy.”
“Yes, it’s me.” Nikki down sat across from him, the tragic irony of the moment nearly rendering her speechless. Twenty years ago, their roles had been reversed. Almost. The idea of burying your child was unfathomable. John clearly thought of Madison as his own.
“It’s just not real. I know it’s been weeks, but I still had this hope that she would come home. Who would do this?”
“The worst kind of monster,” Nikki said. “I know this is extremely difficult, but can I ask you a few questions?”
He nodded. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you that the sergeant hasn’t already asked.”
“How long had the girls been friends?”
“Just a few months.” John cleared his throat. “They played volleyball together, until Kaylee was kicked off the team for fighting.”
“This is all Kaylee’s fault.” Amy Banks had returned, her grief weaponized into rage. “That girl barely had any adult supervision. I told Madison to stay away from her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
John took his wife’s hand. “Kaylee wasn’t a bad kid. Her mom worked all the time, so she was on her own a lot. She spent a lot of time at our house.”
Amy’s mouth tightened. “Not because I wanted her to.”
Nikki hadn’t missed the angry glances Amy gave to John every time she said Kaylee’s name. She blamed Kaylee for her daughter’s death, but he didn’t seem to share her sentiments. Perhaps that had driven a wedge between them.
“Kaylee’s mother’s on her way,” Sergeant Miller said.
John looked at Nikki. “I’ve followed your career with the FBI. Maddie, too. She was fascinated by the killer from the Ivy League schools. She wanted to go into criminal justice and when she found out I’d known you in high school, she begged me to email you so she could talk to you as part of her project for career day. I kept putting it off.” John’s mouth trembled and his hands fisted on the table. “Now you’re investigating her murder.”
Throughout grad school and her first few years with the FBI, Nikki kept her head down and worked her way up the food chain. Only a select few of her colleagues knew about her past. Six years ago, while working for the BAU at Quantico, her profile helped track down Marshal Weathers, better known as the Ivy League Stalker. Weathers had terrorized the elite schools for nearly a decade, with murders at Princeton, Brown, Yale and Harvard. Nikki hadn’t been the lead agent, but luck put her right in Weathers’ crosshairs. His dramatic capture at Harvard’s famed Memorial Hall made national news, and so did Nikki, along with her past.
After the capture of the Ivy League Stalker, Nikki had been offered the chance to start a behavioral analysis unit in St. Paul that would serve not only Minnesota but be available to assist law enforcement in Iowa, Wisconsin and Michigan. She’d hesitated to take the job because it could eventually bring her back to Stillwater, but heading a new unit was an opportunity the bureau probably wouldn’t offer her again. Her team made the news that summer after catching the resort murderer.
“To be fair, the Ivy League Stalker helped us. I don’t think we would have ever caught him if his ego hadn’t gotten involved,” Nikki said. “They always make mistakes, eventually.”
“And yet the Frost Killer is still out there.” Amy’s bitter tone matched the anger in her eyes. “You’ve failed to catch him and now he’s killed our daughter.”
“We can’t be sure that the Frost Killer did this.”
“Sergeant Miller said—”
“Sheriff Hardin was right to suggest the Frost Killer,” Nikki said. “And it’s important that we continue to consider him a suspect, but I’m not concentrating my investigation on just Frost.”
Sergeant Miller gave her an appreciative glance. “Agent Hunt will know more after the medical examiner is ready to report her findings.”
“Did she suffer?” John asked.
Nikki hated lying to grieving families but knowing the grim details of their loved one’s death, especially if the victim was a child, served no purpose. “She looks like she’s sleeping.”
John’s stoic expression crumbled. “My poor little girl. It’s my fault.”
Nikki could see that John’s love for Madison was sincere, but she was still surprised he’d married a woman with a child. The John she’d known would have never settled down and had a family. But time changed people.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nikki said.
“It is,” John replied. “I wasn’t home. I was supposed to be, but a client I’ve been trying to land called and had time to meet with me. The guy is so busy, it’s nearly impossible to get a meeting. I met him for lunch in Minneapolis. If I had been at home, then maybe she wouldn’t have gone into the woods that day.”
“Kaylee was already at your house with Madison when you left?”
He shook his head. “She was on her way over.”
“And they would have asked to go to their friend’s, and you would have said yes.” Amy rubbed his shoulder. “It still would have happened.”
“I need to see her,” John said. “I can’t answer your questions until I’ve seen her.”
Nikki had dealt with enough parents to know the Bankses would need to see Madison before they could truly accept she was gone. “I understand. My questions can wait until morning. I assume you’ll both be home?”
“Yes.” John stood and looked down at her. His smile was a ghost of the one she remembered waiting for days to see. His smile always had an edge, as though he’d been starved to see her. He probably thought the same about her. “I’m so glad you’re here. To work the case, I mean.”
Twenty years later, John still wore the same cologne. A single whiff brought back all the memories she’d worked so hard to forget. She’d been sitting on his lap at the party, drink in hand. He’d whispered in her ear about “later,” and Nikki had flushed with excitement. She’d finished her drink and then stood up to make another, but her head swam from the alcohol. John had told her to go lie down before she passed out on the floor…
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nikki turned and headed down the hall before John could say anything more. She ducked into the ladies’ room and locked the door. Acid coated her tongue, and she dry-heaved over the sink until her throat burned. She splashed water on her heated face and tried to catch her breath.
She wondered if she could really work this case. The longer she stayed in town, the more emotions she’d be dredging up. But turning her back on Madison and Kaylee would haunt her, and she already had enough regrets for a lifetime.
She retrieved her bag from Miller’s dark office and popped a mint into her mouth. Her smart watch vibrated with a text.
Help. In break room.
What sort of trouble could Courtney possibly get into in the break room? Nikki wondered. She hurried down the hallway, following the scent of stale coffee that followed Courtney everywhere and skidded to a stop at the open door.
“Court!” Nikki said, spotting Courtney before she even entered the room.
Courtney sat on the floor with her snow pants trapped around her ankles. She’d managed to get the drawstring at the bottom of her right pant leg tangled with her boot lace. Nikki knelt beside her and went to work on the string.
She loved Courtney dearly, but it never ceased to amaze Nikki how someone so intelligent wound up in the silliest situations. Courtney had started at St. Paul at the same time as Nikki, and during the first sixty minutes of meeting her, Courtney had managed to get herself locked in a supply closet.
“How did you get this into such a knot?” Nikki asked.
“I have no idea, but I’m about ready to cut myself loose.”
“Hang on.” Nikki found her nail file in her back pocket and wedged it into the knot. After the fourth try, she loosened the string enou
gh to untie it.
Courtney stood up and shimmied out of the pants, and then wiped her face with her sleeve. Tiny white skulls polka-dotted her black leggings. “Christ, I’m sweating.”
Nikki laughed and sat down, the weight on her shoulders less crushing. “I should have taken a picture of you.”
“I’d kick your ass.” Courtney collapsed on the chair next to her. “If it wasn’t so bitter cold, I’d say we should go for a drink. God knows we deserve it.”
Courtney was one of the few people Nikki called a friend. She’d spent her last two years of high school as a social pariah, pitied and gossiped about, and she’d shut everyone out of her life to survive. College had been just the opposite: being friends with Nicole Walsh earned you a badge of coolness. Figuring out who wanted to be friends because they actually liked her took more effort than Nikki had been willing to give. By the time she joined the FBI, she’d become an expert at keeping people at a distance, and that included her ex-husband. She’d intended to do the same thing with her Minnesota unit, but Courtney’s big personality had cracked Nikki’s defenses. They’d become close friends, and Nikki was a better person because of their friendship. And she was damn lucky to have Courtney on her team. “Did you find anything on the bodies?”
“I used the UV light in the truck. No stains, and no visible trace of anything.”
Nikki had expected as much. “The sheriff’s department doesn’t have much physical evidence, either. They found nothing usable on the trail or surrounding areas. They disappeared in mid-October. The weather had been good, so no footprints. No sign of fibers or any sort of struggle, which makes me think the girls might not have been forced off the trail.”
Liam appeared in the doorway, still wearing his floppy hat. “Why didn’t I take that job in the Florida office?”
“Because you wanted to work with the best.” Courtney tossed her discarded snow pants at him. “You’re lucky to have us.”
“Some days I wonder,” he replied, looking her up and down. “Why are you sweating?”
