by Stacy Green
“She’s absolutely convinced Mark Todd was wrongfully convicted,” Mathews said. “After she presented to the judge, he not only allowed the testing but signed off on a full review of the case file.”
“What else are they testing?” Nikki didn’t want to hear the answer, but she had to know. “Obviously it’s more than some skin cells from the lamp and windowsill.”
Mathews looked at her for a moment and then sighed. “Todd’s attorney’s discovered biological samples taken from your mother that had never been tested. The deputy who collected it wanted to test for semen but was denied by his superior.”
Nikki gripped the chair arm to keep from shaking. “There was a sample that was never tested? You should have told me the minute this was found by Todd’s attorneys. You told me there was nothing to worry about.”
Mathews sighed. “The ADA in appeals has been handling it. She notified me last week, and I made the decision to withhold the details of testing from you until the judge made his decision.”
“How could you do that?”
“Because I didn’t see the need for you to hear gruesome details on what I thought to be a Hail Mary by the defense.”
“So I found out through the media instead.” Nikki was furious. “Hardin never said a word to me about another sample at the time.”
“He didn’t do the collection, and you were a kid. Given the way the case played out, he was probably trying to protect you.”
The bagel Nikki had eaten an hour ago threatened to make an appearance. “But Hardin knew they were there, and he knows about DNA advancement. He should have told me.”
“Hardin’s certain he got his man.”
“But you aren’t?” Nikki couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Mathews leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking about it. Why wouldn’t they have tested those swabs? Surely it should have just been more evidence to convict Mark.”
“The case is twenty years old, things happen. It may simply be an error,” Nikki said, not even sure she believed what she was saying. “Mark was there that night, I saw him, and he had a motive to kill me. John testified he found Mark and me alone at the party. I’d gone to lie down, and John caught Mark trying to take advantage of me. He defended me. He saved me. So John was lying? Several other people from the party verified the story. And I was there too.” Nikki remembered what Rory had told her last night. “A paramedic took my blood to test for blood alcohol level.”
Mathews’ eyebrows knitted together. “You mentioned that when we initially spoke in November. I assumed our staff would be able to locate the report. But we haven’t. Don’t you find it strange that no one could find that toxicology report? Even though John and his friends all testified that you were sober when you left the party, and Hardin stated that you passed a sobriety test,” Mathews said. “As a law enforcement officer, does it make sense to you that there’s no record of this?”
“I remember being in the ambulance,” Nikki said. She remembered sitting there trembling on the gurney while the paramedic checked her over for injuries. Despite the warm air, Nikki had shivered with cold. “I remember the paramedic having a needle.”
Mathews flipped through the dog-eared file. “You were treated for shock. Is it possible you were just given fluids?”
No, because she’d watched the blood fill the vial—hadn’t she? Or was her memory that scrambled? “I—I’m not sure.”
The weeks and months following the murders were mostly a blur, but Nikki remembered the prosecutor treating her like a star witness just as much as a grieving daughter. He’d painted her as a suffering, fragile child who needed to be handled with care. Nikki had been grateful for his kindness, but she knew it made the jury sympathize with her too. She’d been so naive, she believed that simply telling people what happened that night would be enough, but the trial taught her that everything in a prosecutor’s case had to be calculated, down to the clothing and mannerisms. The district attorney had put her through a rigorous mock cross-examination a few days before the trial.
The nightmares started after that miserable day.
Nikki had been well into her junior year in college when she realized she’d developed a skill for reading people after her parents were killed. She kept her guard up, always hyper focused on people’s body language, because everyone had an agenda.
“Nikki?” Mathews looked concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m just trying to get my head around all of this. I wasn’t impaired when I found my parents. And I’m betting the defense played up the intoxication thing to this reporter, trying to get more people on Mark’s side.”
“Public opinion might appear to influence the case, and unless the defense has proof you were intoxicated, that argument won’t hold water in court. The DNA certainly will, but Patsy Moran is absolutely certain none of the samples will match Mark’s DNA. She’s pushing for urgent testing because he’s already spent enough time in prison as an innocent man.”
Mark Todd must be one hell of a liar. “Please tell me the state is doing its own testing. If they’ve hired some independent—”
“The defense sent it to the state’s crime lab,” Mathews said. “No chance of bias or false results.”
“Good. They’re going to look like idiots when it’s a match.”
“Nikki, have you looked at the evidence?” Mathews asked. “I know it will be hard to be objective, but perhaps now is the time for you to do that. We can provide copies of the photos and all the reports—”
“I have a killer to catch first.” Nikki stood up to leave. “Please keep me in the loop from now on?”
She held her tears in until the elevator doors closed. Patsy Moran wouldn’t have taken the case if she didn’t believe Mark was innocent. Why hadn’t the biological evidence been tested? Why were there so many inconsistencies in the case she’d been told was rock solid? How many other lies had she been told?
Rory’s face flashed through Nikki’s mind. He wanted Nikki to talk to Mark and find out what really happened at the party, and Nikki understood that whatever story his brother had given him, Rory believed it. But she didn’t.
Hardin and the prosecutor believed Mark Todd had crawled in the bedroom window she’d left open, knocking a bunch of things off her dresser, including the lamp. They’d painted a detailed picture at the time. Nikki’s father had gone to investigate the noise with his .32. Nikki’s room had been a mess, her vanity knocked over and the mirror broken during a struggle, and a ligature mark on her father’s neck suggested Mark likely tried to strangle him with the lamp cord. Police believed that’s when her father lost the gun, and Mark shot him. Nikki’s mother likely tried to help her husband, at some point running back into the bedroom to call for help. The phone cord had been ripped from the wall.
It worried Nikki that Mathews was doubting the original investigation. Throughout his career, Mathews had consistently defended due process for the accused, because it was the only way to get a true conviction. A moral conviction, he’d once said in court. How hard would he fight for Mark’s guilt if he didn’t believe in it? Mark could wind up walking the streets before the DNA results even came in, and that was the last thing Nikki wanted.
Ten
Nikki listened to a playlist of supposedly calming music on the drive to Stillwater, but the repetitive, dull sounds made her sleepy. She switched to her classic rock list and blasted AC/DC as she approached the Washington County Government Center. She could do this. She wasn’t some broken teenaged kid. Nikki had worked her rear end off to get where she was, and she’d faced down far scarier things than a crowd of protesters.
Their numbers appeared to have doubled since yesterday. Nikki expected them to swarm her car, but the group stayed on the sidewalk, shouting at her. She made out the word “liar,” and several obscenities in the signs they were holding, but she didn’t let off the gas and drove into the government complex.
Nikki exhaled a shak
y sigh of relief as she circled the parking lot in search of an available space. She squeezed the jeep in between two sedans and hoped her doors didn’t get scratched. She was late, and she hated walking into a room full of people waiting for her.
Sergeant Miller had found a temporary workspace for Liam and Courtney to set up shop. Unfortunately, the location was at the far end of the complex, and Nikki had parked up front.
She pulled her hat low and then zipped her parka up. Her face burned and her eyes watered from the cold wind. She ducked her head as far into her collar as possible.
“Agent Hunt.” Caitlin Newport materialized out of nowhere. Nikki hadn’t noticed the big truck when she’d circled the lot.
“We have no new information on the murders,” Nikki said.
“The press release indicated Frost isn’t responsible. That seems pretty obvious given the differences in the crimes.”
“Thank you for clarifying that,” Nikki said sarcastically.
“Are you staying to work the case?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Hopefully that was enough to satisfy her for now.
“I assume you read the newspaper?” Caitlin’s tone had changed; she was more businesslike, her words heavy with meaning.
“No comment.”
Caitlin was undeterred. “The irony of John Banks’ stepdaughter being one of the recent victims is chilling, isn’t it?”
Nikki’s stomach dropped. She’d suspected Caitlin had more on her agenda than Madison and Kaylee’s murders. “You don’t care about those poor girls at all. You’re doing a piece on Mark Todd.”
“It’s a compelling story,” Caitlin said. “Horrible small-town tragedy, the wrong man railroaded by police and finally freed by DNA, not to mention how emotional the case was when it first came to light.”
“You mean me finding my parents dead?” Nikki glared at the cameraman she spotted trying to sneak out of the passenger seat of Caitlin’s truck unnoticed. “You do not have permission to film me, so you might as well get back inside and stay warm.”
He glanced at Caitlin, who waved him back into the truck.
“No problem.” He slammed the door.
“That includes filming from inside the truck.” She walked faster towards the entrance, but Caitlin easily fell into step next to her.
“I’m sorry to sound crass. No one should have to endure something like that. You were a traumatized kid who recounted the events as she remembered,” Catlin said. “But the revelation that you were under the influence changes things.”
“Hardin did a sobriety test. Are you the one who talked to the press?”
Caitlin shook her head. “Believe me, if I’d known, I would have come straight to you. You’re saying you weren’t intoxicated?”
“No comment.”
“Mark had a reason to be at your house that night, but the police never wanted to listen.”
“That’s on them, not me.”
“The new DNA evidence is going to prove Mark’s innocence. The police screwed this up from the start.”
“Does the Todd family know you’re doing this?”
“His parents are all for it. They want their son’s story heard.”
“What about Rory?”
“He’ll come around. I’m on their side.”
Engaging with this woman was stupid. Shortly after the Innocence Project took Mark’s case, Caitlin had approached Nikki for her side of the story. Nikki had been able to blow her off more than once, but with all this new evidence now coming to light, she was worried she’d have to speak out.
“Do you know how many times Mark changed his story?” Nikki asked Caitlin. Mark had originally told sheriff’s deputies that he’d come to talk to Nikki, that he’d seen that the front door was busted and entered the property to check up on them. When he finally admitted to being inside the house, Mark claimed that he’d accidentally stepped in her mother’s blood and the tracks were made after he discovered the bodies and went downstairs to use the phone. He said he’d been outside waiting to talk to Nikki, that he’d heard gunshots and run into the dark house, but he also said that he’d found Nikki’s mother dead, checked her pulse, gone downstairs to call for help and been hit from behind. He said he’d woken up with the pistol in his hand and Nikki walking around upstairs.
“Did you know he talked to the police for hours without any representation?”
“He was a legal adult. He probably waived his rights.”
“There’s no evidence he did that. The security cameras in the interview room didn’t record audio. Look, you’re a decorated FBI agent,” Caitlin said. “Have you gone over this investigation with a trained eye? When was the last time you looked at the files? Or the crime scene photos?”
The cops had told Nikki they may never have caught Mark if she hadn’t come home. Her version of events remained consistent, while Mark had changed his story. His prints had been on the gun, her mother’s blood on his clothes…
“No need. I got to see the real horror, up close and personal.”
“You’ve already seen the protestors. Yard signs are popping up around town, too. People are starting to believe Mark. And they want to hear from you, especially now.”
“Too bad. I have nothing to say.”
“Agent Hunt.” Caitlin stepped in front of her, blocking Nikki’s path to the front entrance. “You need to cooperate with me. I can tell your story so that you remain a victim. You were a traumatized kid. It’s the police who really screwed up here.”
“Cooperate with you?”
Caitlin nodded. “That DNA is going to exonerate him. He’ll be released within months and selling his story for millions. Not to mention he’ll have a solid lawsuit against Washington County and maybe even you. Talking to me now is going make you a lot more likable in the long run.”
Nikki closed the distance between them. “Let me make this clear, Ms. Newport. And you can consider the following a formal statement since I’m sure your phone is recording our conversation. Mark Todd’s appeal will be decided in the courts. My team and I are in Stillwater to find out who kidnapped and murdered two teenaged girls. While I understand and respect the public’s right to protest, I’m asking the media, which includes you, to stop asking for interviews regarding the appeal. We are already months behind this perpetrator, and I believe we have a very short window to catch him. We have to assume this could be a serial predator who could be looking for new victims. Please allow me to focus on Madison and Kaylee so we can bring this person to justice before he hurts anyone else.”
“Of course the murders have to be your priority,” Caitlin replied. “But don’t forget that giving your side of the story is the only thing that will stop people from getting in your way.”
“My side of the story has already been documented in court. If you continue to follow me around and bug me about Mark Todd’s appeal, I’ll charge you with harassment.”
“We both know that won’t stick. You’re fighting the wrong person here.”
“Do not follow me inside this building,” Nikki snapped.
“It’s a public building.”
“And I’m a government agent you’re harassing. Back off.”
“Nicole.” The filmmaker’s voice lost some of its sharp edge. “Please go over the files. Or have a colleague who isn’t emotionally involved do it.”
Nikki heaved the glass door open and stomped into the lobby.
The front attendant looked up from her computer. “Agent Hunt?”
Nikki’s chest heaved as though she’d just sprinted from the jeep. Her body flashed from cold to burning hot. She removed her hat and tried to tame her hair. The roots were damp with sweat, so the effort was futile. “Where are we set up?” she asked.
“Second floor, room 212. Take a right off the elevator.”
Nikki glanced at the door to make sure Caitlin wasn’t going to follow her in. “Thank you. If that woman comes inside and tries to find me, call room 212 right away.”
“Sure thing.”
Nikki peeled off her gloves and coat in the elevator. She found a brush in her bag and ran it through her hair before clipping it into a bun. Who the hell did Newport think she was, asking Nikki to cooperate, like she had done something wrong? At least she’d made a firm statement to the media, even though she hated giving it to her.
Room 212 was just a couple of doors down from the elevator. Nikki slowed her pace and took a deep breath to refocus, running through a mental list of what she needed to go over with her team.
Liam and Courtney had set up computers and makeshift workstations, along with a smart board. Half-empty boxes of bagels and donuts sat on a corner table, along with a coffee machine and bottles of water.
“Sorry I’m late.” Nikki grabbed a donut with a mound of gooey icing. “Caitlin Newport ambushed me.”
Miller looked up from his computer. “Are you serious? I ran her off this morning already.”
“She’s tenacious. And all excited about that newspaper article since she’s doing a documentary about Mark Todd’s innocence.”
“I knew she was up to something.” Courtney’s expression made it clear she’d read the article, but she’d never bring it up in a professional setting.
Liam focused on the notes scattered in front of him.
Miller glanced at Courtney, who shook her head. Her team knew better than to push her, and Miller had good survival instincts.
Nikki tossed her half-eaten donut in the trash and sat down. “Liam, did you have any luck figuring out who was in the Polaroid from Kaylee’s room?” Nikki had taken the photo for evidence, hoping to identify the person who’d taken the picture.
“I scanned it to see if we could get a better look at the man reflected in the shop window,” Liam said. “The tech geeks are running it through their advanced photo software, but I don’t think we’re going to find much.”
“I didn’t expect to.” Nikki shifted her focus. Courtney had already updated Nikki this morning. It would be at least seventy-two hours before they’d be able to begin examining the bodies, so her staff wouldn’t even consider trying to remove the girls’ clothes yet. The medical examiner expected to start the autopsies in five days, but she’d cautioned Courtney that she wasn’t going to rush things and risk losing evidence, no matter how hard they pushed. “I know we’re still in a holding pattern with the evidence from the bodies, but we have leads to follow now. You’ll all have read Miller’s notes from the missing persons investigation. Is there someone else who knew Madison or Kaylee who hasn’t been interviewed? And are there any holes in those stories? I think there are things we don’t know about Kaylee’s mom’s boyfriend, Ricky. Courtney, Sergeant Miller has a warrant to search his truck, so I’d like you to follow us out there.”