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 enough 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?”