The Girls in the Snow: A completely unputdownable crime thriller (Nikki Hunt Book 1)

by Stacy Green

  “Mostly. Nice place,” Nikki replied.

  “John works for a large pharmaceutical company. He’s pretty high up in the food chain. Amy works part-time as a bank teller so she can be here when the kids get home from school.”

  “Madison had one sibling?”

  “A little brother. Second grade, I think.”

  A tall, sturdy-looking woman came out the front door, pulling it shut behind her. She started sprinkling ice melt on the wide steps.

  Nikki glanced at Miller. “Housekeeper?”

  He shook his head. “Family friend. Good morning, Mindy.”

  “Sergeant Miller, I didn’t realize you were already here. I wanted to make sure these steps weren’t so icy.”

  “Mindy Vance, this is Special Agent Nikki Hunt with the FBI.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, despite the horrific circumstances.” Mindy’s heavy winter coat added to her plump girth and she was nearly as tall as Miller. “I stopped by to check in on John and Amy.”

  “How long have you known the Bankses?” Nikki asked.

  “Oh, for a long time,” Mindy said. “Everyone’s just in shock. I guess I’m a bit of a Pollyanna, but I still hoped the girls would come home safe. Amy’s just a wreck. And John’s, well, John.”

  “Stoic,” Nikki said. “He was never great at showing his emotions.”

  “I think that’s the case with most men in our generation.” Mindy’s smile quickly faltered. “Madison was a good kid. She had such a bright future.”

  Miller took the ice melt and started sprinkling it onto the sidewalk.

  “Thank you,” Mindy said.

  “Did you know Kaylee as well?” Nikki asked.

  “No,” Mindy replied. “I don’t visit as often as I should since my husband died, but I wanted to check in on Amy.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Nikki said. “You and Amy are close?”

  “Not exactly close. Amy’s very private. But she was a rock after my husband’s death. I just can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

  Nikki glanced around at the snow-covered houses. “Is this a tight-knit area?”

  “I think so,” Mindy said. “The Burns family at the end of the cul-de-sac throws block parties in the summer. Pays for a live band and funhouses for the kids.”

  “People look out for one another,” Nikki said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Would they notice a strange person or vehicle hanging around?”

  Mindy thought about it for a moment. “Maybe, but there are always visitors. I can’t see anyone paying much attention unless there was some kind of commotion.” She zipped up her coat and pulled on gloves. “I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to get to work.”

  “Of course.” Nikki handed her a business card. “I know you already gave a statement, when the girls disappeared, but if you think of anything else that you think could help, give me a call.”

  Mindy nodded. “It was nice to meet you.”

  The door opened once again. Dressed in sweats and an old Vikings shirt, Nikki thought John looked more like the slightly wild college kid she remembered.

  “Thought I heard your voice.” Circles lined his bloodshot eyes.

  “Did you get any sleep?” Nikki asked.

  “A little.” John glanced over her shoulder and waved at Mindy. “I was going to take care of the sidewalk.”

  “I think she just wanted to help,” Nikki said. “No one really knows what to do in these situations.”

  Miller joined them, finishing off the last of the ice melt, and she and Miller followed John inside. Nikki slipped her boots off, discreetly admiring the house. The entry flowed into a massive great room that offered spectacular views of the iced-over lake. Family pictures lined the mantle over the fireplace, and the entire room had a definite Dollanganger vibe. Fair-skinned and blond-haired Amy and John could have been related, and Madison and the small boy sitting on her lap were doll-like replicas of their parents. Madison easily passed for John’s biological child.

  “What’s your son’s name?” Nikki asked.

  John sat on the couch, staring into the fire. “Bailey. He’s with Amy’s parents.”

  “How did he take the news?”

  “We haven’t told him,” John replied.

  “I understand it’s going to be hard,” Nikki said, “but you shouldn’t wait much longer. The worst thing that could happen is his finding out from someone else. If you need a victim’s advocate who specializes in kids—”

  “We’re fine.” Amy Banks sat down next to her husband. The black-framed glasses she wore didn’t hide her red eyes or the dark circles beneath them.

  “How are you doing this morning, Mrs. Banks?”

  Amy stared at her for a moment. “Fucking awful. How do you think I’m doing?”

  “Jesus, be polite,” John said. “She’s here to help.”

  Nikki wasn’t fazed by the woman’s rudeness. She’d endured much worse from grieving family members. They needed someone to lash out at, and cops were often the easiest people to focus on. “We just met Mindy Vance. It was nice of her to stop by.”

  Amy’s expression softened. “She’s very kind. She’s gone through her share of grief.”

  “Yes, she mentioned her husband. Your families spent a lot of time together?”

  “Not in recent years,” Amy said. “Madison was younger than Mindy’s son, so they didn’t hang out much. We just didn’t have much in common.”

  “Were you and your daughter close, Mrs. Banks?”

  “Of course we were. Aren’t all mothers and daughters?”

  Nikki remembered that she and her mother had argued for hours on end when she was Madison’s age, and her father usually had to send them both to their respective corners.

  “I’ve gone over your original interviews after the girls disappeared. I just have a few questions. They may seem repetitive, but it’s important that I ask since this has become a homicide investigation,” Nikki explained. “Did Madison ever mention anyone following her or Kaylee? Anybody new in their lives?”

  “You should start with Jessica Thomas’ boyfriend,” Amy said. “Everyone knows he’s a drug dealer.”

  “That doesn’t make him a kidnapper,” John said.

  “Ricky Fillinger,” Miller confirmed. “He’s been convicted of some minor drug offences, but he works as a mechanic and I’ve told you he does have an alibi.”

  There was something so familiar to Nikki about that name. “Ricky Fillinger, as in all-state football?” Nikki asked.

  “Yep,” John said. “He blew out his knee. I heard he got addicted to the painkillers.”

  “His buddy alibied him, Sergeant Miller.” Amy’s harsh tone matched the hateful glare she gave her husband. “And guys never lie for each other, do they?”

  John’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing. Nikki wasn’t sure if this tension was a sign of marital problems, or just the soul-crushing anger that came with losing a child.

  “Our daughter was a good girl who followed the rules,” Amy continued. “Whoever did this came from Kaylee’s life.”

  “You don’t know that.” John’s blue eyes flashed.

  “Are you defending that girl?” she said, her voice rising. “She exposed Madison to things she never should have seen. And her mother’s never home. How’s the girl supposed to have any moral compass?"

  Nikki let Miller take notes while Amy and John volleyed back and forth. Amy looked like a tiger ready to spring, and John leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, almost in a protective stance.

  “She works fourteen-hour shifts at the nursing home,” John said. “Not everyone has a husband who provides everything. You should remember that more often than you do.”

  Nikki tensed at his manipulative tone, struggling to keep her mouth shut. Amy was a grieving mother who deserved some leniency. Nikki had forgotten about John’s fragile ego, but when they were dating, John had demanded gratitude for the smallest acts of kindness. Nikki r
ealized now that he’d been just as insecure as everyone else.

  After her parents’ murders, she’d pushed John away. She wondered if his insecurities would have eventually caused their relationship to end if the murders hadn’t happened.

  Amy’s fair skin turned red. “How dare you—”

  “Okay.” Nikki shook off the heaviness that had started to settle over her. “Let’s focus on what you know about the girls’ last day.”

  “We’ve told you everything already,” John said.

  Nikki had memorized the file the night before. “Madison texted you at 12:07 p.m. that she and Kaylee were walking the lake trail to the Hansons’. It’s a ten-minute walk. She said she would text you when she arrived.”

  “She didn’t.” John put his head in his hands. “But I totally forgot to check. It didn’t dawn on me until hours later that she’d never texted me.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t spend all your time at the office, she might still be here.”

  John’s knuckles turned white, but he said nothing.

  “Listen,” Nikki said. “You’ve both experienced a terrible loss, and you want someone to blame. But that isn’t going to help you get through this. The only person who can comprehend your loss is sitting beside you.”

  “She was my daughter. My flesh and blood—”

  “I loved her like she was my own,” John exploded. “You know that.”

  Amy’s jaw tightened, her lips thinned to an angry line, but she remained silent.

  “Let’s get back to the questions so we can get out of your hair,” Miller said. “You both need rest.”

  Nikki continued. “Miles Hanson and his father confirmed the girls never arrived, and that Madison didn’t answer the boy’s text. The weather was nice that Saturday, especially for November. A jogger saw the girls on the trail between here and the halfway point.”

  “We know the details, for Christ’s sake,” Amy said. “Why aren’t you out there looking for this monster?”

  “We are,” Nikki replied. “The neighbors were interviewed, but is there any chance they might have stopped at someone’s house prior to the Hansons’?”

  “Every house near the trail has either retired people or young families,” Amy said. “Madison didn’t know any of them. I highly doubt Kaylee did, either.” Amy glared out the window, shaking her head. She clearly blamed Kaylee for her daughter’s death, but something else brewed beneath the surface. Nikki needed to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later.

  Nikki glanced at Miller, who nodded and said, “We found the pepper spray in her room. Probably figured she didn’t need it during the day.”

  “Both girls were athletic, both were capable of fighting and it’s unlikely that someone was able to take them by force. My notes say that officers found no evidence of a struggle along the trail,” Nikki added. “We’re looking for someone the girls knew. Someone they may have left the trail with willingly.”

  “Sergeant Miller said the same thing when they first went missing,” Amy said. “You aren’t telling us anything new.”

  “Jesus, Amy,” John said. “Let her talk.”

  Amy’s pallid face turned red. “Excuse me?”

  Nikki cleared her throat. “I’ve gone through all of the witness statements, including Miles Hanson’s and Madison’s other friends. Miles said that the girls texted to say they were headed over—and phone records show that’s true. But when Sergeant Miller spoke to the rest of the friends, they seemed surprised that the girls would hang out with Miles outside of school.”

  “They’re wrong,” John said flatly. “Maddie had gone to the Hansons’ more than once.”

  Nikki nodded. “We’re headed to speak with Miles next. Maybe they did intend to go to his house and then changed their minds.”

  “They were seen on the trail—” Amy began.

  “Before the halfway point,” Nikki said. “They could have exited it at any time after that. There were other people on the trail, and no one reported seeing them or hearing any sort of a struggle. There’s little chance they went into someone’s house, especially since they were all canvassed, and most had security footage. I think we have to consider someone with a car was waiting for them, and the girls got into the car willingly.”

  “So, what now?” John asked.

  “Every kid keeps secrets from their parents. We need to know what Madison and Kaylee kept to themselves.”

  John’s sad eyes met hers. He knew exactly what she meant. “You think there’s a boy involved?”

  “We don’t know, which is why we need access.”

  “What sort of access?” Amy said. “The police already went through Madison’s social media accounts and her computer when they first went missing. They didn’t find anything.”

  “Teenagers are smarter than us when it comes to technology. They know how to hide things,” Miller suggested. “My people went through everything, but the FBI has better resources. I’m hoping they will find something we couldn’t.”

  “In the meantime, we’ll talk to friends, the school, any known acquaintances. My hope is that someone in their social circle has information—and chances are, they don’t even realize it can help. I’d like to take a look at Madison’s room.”

  “Sergeant Miller already did.” Amy glared at her.

  “Mrs. Banks, fresh eyes and a new perspective can make a big difference,” Miller replied.

  Amy sighed. “Fine, but I’m going with you. I don’t want anything changed from the way she left it.”

  It wasn’t the ideal situation, but Nikki could tell it was the only way the woman was going to cooperate. When her parents were murdered, Nikki hadn’t let anyone else go through her mother’s collection of Precious Moments figurines or set foot in their bedroom. “I’ll let you lead the way, then.”

  The big staircase opened into a large common area with a flat-screen television and toys scattered around overstuffed chairs. Various artwork decorated the walls, ranging from finger-paint blobs to an impressive sketch of one of the big Victorian houses in the historic district. Madison’s name was scribbled on the bottom right.

  “She was a talented artist.”

  “Yes, she was. Maddie’s room is over here.” Amy turned left at the far end of the hall. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the doorknob. “Please don’t move things around.”

  “I won’t.” Nikki opened the door, and a flicker of envy swept through her. Her own room in the big farmhouse had been painted in bright yellow, and she’d covered one wall with various posters. Her vanity and bedside table had been her parents’ castoffs, and they didn’t match her dresser. Nikki had delighted in making Lacey’s room pretty, but Madison’s room made it look drab in comparison.

  A mural of a beach with white sand and a sparkling ocean covered the largest wall. Various quotes covered the adjacent wall, along with dozens of doodles. Nikki was sure Madison had decorated her own room.

  “A dry-erase wall,” Nikki said. “That’s very cool.”

  A large art table sat beneath the big window that overlooked the neighborhood. All the supplies were organized and labeled, stored in containers under the desk.

  “She liked things neat. She was a very good organizer.” Sadness laced Amy’s tone.

  “It’s a lovely room. May I look in the dresser drawers?”

  Amy nodded, and Nikki worked her way through the dresser, searching for anything hidden. It was just as organized as the rest of the room, and she made sure to leave it that way. Madison’s nightstand had several books, and a large jewelry box sat on top.

  Amy hovered over Nikki’s shoulder as she examined the walk-in closet. “What exactly are you looking for? If she did have any big secrets, they would have been hidden on her phone.”

  “Most likely,” Nikki said. “Honestly, I’m not just looking for something tangible. I want to get a feel for the type of person Madison was. Now I see that she was very methodical, am I right?”

  “Yes, and she wa
s driven. She was in the top five percent of her class. She excelled at everything she tried.”

  And probably knotted up with tension and anxiety. Feeling the need to be the best and have things exactly as a person wished was exhausting.

  “Madison didn’t make snap decisions,” Nikki said.

  “No, at least not until she met that girl. Kaylee was always telling her to loosen up and live a little. Look where that got her.” Amy rubbed her temples. “John says I have to get it together. Put on a good front for Bailey. I’ll be strong for our son, but John just wants to make sure we don’t embarrass ourselves with public outbursts and displays. We should grieve in private.”

  John had been the same way when she dated him. Their relationship was volatile at times, and he’d always been more concerned with his image than her feelings. Still, Nikki saw her opening. “Is that why you’re so angry at him?”

  “I never said I was angry—”

  “You didn’t need to,” Nikki said.

  “It’s not meant for him. I’m just angry at the world for what’s happened to my child.”

  Nikki tried to steer the conversation back to the couple’s relationship. “That’s absolutely normal, but I can see how much it bothers you when John talks about Kaylee.”

  Amy bristled. “He never should have allowed that girl into our home. I told him she was trouble. She just brought too much baggage into Madison’s life.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Are you finished?”

  Nikki knew she wasn’t going to get anything more out of Amy, but she sensed that Amy was still holding something back. “I don’t want to cause problems between you two. But I know this about grief: it does what it wants, when it wants. Everyone grieves in their own way, and any person who thinks they can control the process is in for a big surprise. Asking for help when you need it is crucial.” She walked back into the hall, trying to give Amy some space.

  Amy followed her and closed the door. “Tell John that.”

  “I will.” Nikki was certainly no marriage counselor, but she’d seen enough families torn apart by death to know what not to do, especially when kids were involved. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you justice.”