Eight years on the job and dozens of victims should have hardened Nikki, but seeing dead children never got easier. Her throat tightened, her hands balled into fists. Child killers deserved a special place in hell.
The two girls lay on their sides, face to face. A fine layer of snow partially covered their torsos. Frayed brown rope looped beneath their bottoms and over their necks, securing them in the fetal position. Clothing covered their necks, but lividity would show if the ropes were attached before or after death. “The killer must have roped them like that because the freezer wasn’t big enough.”
“None of Frost’s victims were like this?” Miller asked.
“So far, all of his have been laid out flat.” Each victim’s hands were always folded over their midsection, like a body prepared for funeral. That was a detail Nikki had intentionally kept from the press, instead describing them as laid out in the snow.
Miller shook his head, his attention on the dead teenagers. “I never stopped looking for them,” he muttered.
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Nikki knew that every cop had cases they agonized over, and ones like this were the kind that drove a person to the bottle.
“The darker-haired girl is Kaylee Thomas,” Miller said. “Madison Malone is the other.”
“They’re both high-school freshmen?” Frost’s youngest victim had been eighteen.
“They’re young for Frost, but Kaylee looks more like a senior. Maybe he targeted her, and Madison was collateral damage?” He sounded embarrassed at the theory. Frost’s methods hadn’t changed in five years.
“Is that the sheriff’s opinion, or yours?” Nikki would bet her savings that Sheriff Hardin hadn’t braved the weather to come to the scene.
“Sheriff’s.”
Nikki shivered from the cold. “You’re the responding officer?”
Miller nodded.
“What was your gut reaction when you first saw them?”
“Initially I wondered about Hardin’s theory, but there are no red ribbons. The scene feels staged to me. My gut tells me someone local did this, thinking the isolated location meant it would be spring before they were found.”
“I agree, but I’m sure the sheriff doesn’t like that idea,” Nikki said. “Can’t say I blame him. It’s certainly more complicated if it’s someone else.”
Wind and snow stung Nikki’s eyes as she knelt next to Kaylee. The girl’s thick, dark hair had been streaked with blond highlights. The hem of her sweater had been torn in the back, like someone had grabbed her from behind. Neither girl wore shoes. One of Kaylee’s socks had a hole in the toe, revealing her pink nail polish.
Nikki adjusted her winter gloves and carefully touched Kaylee’s arm. “Are these the same clothes they disappeared in?”
Miller nodded. “Clothes are pretty much frozen to both bodies.”
“Did Kaylee have the blond highlights?”
“She did them at home a couple of days before the girls disappeared.”
“Is there a picture of her with the highlights?” Nikki’s crime scene guru might be able to figure how much the hair had grown out—if any—before she died.
“Not that I know of,” Miller said.
Kaylee’s sweater was frozen tightly to her neck. Madison’s fisted hands were tucked under her chin, but Nikki could see the lightweight coat was zipped to her throat.
“Why is Madison wearing a coat?”
“She had a thin shirt on,” Miller said. “Her dad made her put on a coat before she and Kaylee left the house.”
Nikki wondered if perhaps the girls had been ambushed, or if they’d gone into someone’s home and taken their shoes off, intending to stay awhile.
A shout startled Nikki and Miller. A tall man with skinny legs and a Vikings wool hat trudged through the snow. The hat’s braided tassels whipped in the wind, making the ear flaps wiggle like a floppy-eared dog.
“Are your bird legs strong enough for those boots?” Nikki asked.
Agent Liam Wilson gave her the finger. “They keep my feet warm.”
