“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. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I was invited,” Nikki said. “Unlike yourself.”
Caitlin shrugged. “Don’t be so sure of that. How’s the hunt for the Frost Killer coming along?”
Nikki had encountered the reporter twice in the last two years, both times during a Frost investigation. Caitlin knew the serial killer wouldn’t suddenly change his methods. “Well, it is his favorite time of year.”
“Surely the police don’t think he suddenly changed his M.O. and took two high-school girls?” Caitlin’s surprised tone wasn’t fooling Nikki.
“How do you know anything about the victims?” Nikki asked.
“Stillwater’s grown since you left, but it’s still a relatively small town. News travels fast.”
“Fantastic,” Nikki said. “I’m still not giving you information on this case.”
“You’re working it, then?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Caitlin slid her sunglasses on top of her head. Colored contacts made her eyes a chilling blue. “It’s just surprising.”
Nikki chewed the inside of her cheek. She’d become a household name in Stillwater. Everyone in town recognized her as the girl who found her parents murdered, and she’d been the star witness at the trial. She’d encountered Mark Todd in the house that night and was the reason he’d been convicted so quickly. Everyone in Stillwater either looked at her with pity or didn’t look at her at all. And after the trial she’d just wanted to finish school and get out of town.
Caitlin was resourceful enough that she had to know bad memories weren’t the only reason for Nikki to stay out of town. After all, she’d been recognized as soon as she’d left anyway—the case wasn’t just famous in Stillwater—and she’d had to cut her hair, dye it blond and ask her professors at the University of Minnesota to refrain from using her last name just so she could attempt a normal life. Caitlin was trying to bait her into talking about new developments in her parents’ murders. Nikki had ignored all media requests over the past month, and she wasn’t about to give Caitlin Newport an exclusive.
Two death investigators approached the barricade carrying the equipment they needed to collect the bodies.
“Down the hill, cornfield’s around the corner.” Nikki’s patience was running thin. “Newport, you need to leave. Or I’ll have you escorted away from the area.”
“Have the police identified the bodies?”
If Caitlin wanted information, she would have to get it from the local police. “No comment. Have a nice day.”
Nikki turned her back on the woman and followed the guys from the medical examiner’s office. Stillwater may have grown in the years since she’d left, but like the filmmaker said, it was still a small town, and news traveled fast. How long did Nikki have before everyone found out she was here and she had to deal with a barrage of questions she didn’t want to answer?
She trudged over the hill and into the field. Courtney knelt next to one of the bodies while Liam concentrated on photographing the scene. She and her team had worked enough cases in the snow and Nikki didn’t have much hope for any trace evidence. “I assume you haven’t found anything?”