“My instincts tell me you’ve been selling prescription drugs on job sites. It’s hard to imagine you only sold them to Jessica. But I’m not really interested in that, I’m trying to find a murderer and I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“And I’m supposed to believe this guy won’t haul me in if I talk?” Ricky pointed to Miller.
“He’s more concerned about finding a killer.” Nikki played her trump card. “I, however, will call your parole officer if you don’t answer my questions. He’ll look at your phone, and they’ll find out all of your dirty secrets.”
“You were a cold bitch in high school and you’re still one.” Ricky crossed his thick arms over his chest. “She showed up at my job site a few days before she disappeared. Gave me the same spiel her mother did. But I told her I wasn’t giving her money for whatever she was trying to buy.”
Nikki had a hard time imagining Ricky as the type to care about Kaylee’s well-being.
“You’re lying,” Nikki said. “She left here with something. Either you tell me what it was, or I call your parole officer.”
Ricky looked more nervous than ever, and Nikki could tell she was getting somewhere. “I gave her fifty bucks, okay? Jessica barely makes ends meet and Kaylee’s phone was going to get shut off. She didn’t need to be going around without a cell phone—” Ricky drew an unsteady breath. He ducked his head and rubbed his eyes. “I thought her phone would protect her. Did she suffer?” Ricky asked.
“We won’t know anything until after the autopsy.” Nikki softened her tone. The sadness in his voice was real. He’d actually tried to look out for her. “How did Kaylee get to your job site that day?”
“Some guy in a van.”
“You get a look at him?”
Ricky shook his head.
“License plate?”
“Wasn’t paying attention. It was a plain grey minivan and had a Stillwater High School bumper sticker.”
“You’re certain?” Miller asked.
“Yep. Got no more to say.”
“Don’t leave town,” Nikki said.
Ricky huffed and disappeared into the half-built house.
“Drew Hanson drives a grey minivan with that bumper sticker,” Miller said. “His father-in-law owns Grinnell Farms. They raise cattle and pigs for farm to table.”
“Industrial freezer access?” Nikki said.
“I would assume so. They slaughter their own animals and sell the meat locally to grocery stores. And farmers’ markets during the summer.”
“You think we could find a judge to sign a warrant to search?”
“No way,” Miller said. “No judge is going to piss off a business like Grinnell Farms without strong evidence. Hanson doesn’t work at the farm, and he says he was home all evening with Miles.”
“Kaylee was a little taller, so from head to toe curled up and secured with the rope, she measured forty-two inches. Assuming they were put in a chest freezer, we’re looking for at least eight cubic feet.”
“That’s some fast math.”
“Can’t take credit for it. Liam’s the math whiz.” Nikki was already headed back to the car. “We already planned to stop at the high school to talk to the girls’ friends. We can pay Hanson a visit, too. Pulling him out of his class will catch him totally off guard. He’ll want to answer our questions and get us out of there as soon as possible. And if he’s got a chest freezer, I want it torn apart. We need—” The words died in her throat as a truck stopped next to Miller’s car, blocking the drive, and Rory Todd’s angry gaze locked on Nikki.
Twelve
Rory shoved open the truck door and stalked towards them, his heavy boots smacking against the hardened snow. His heavy work pants were covered in dried paint, and he hadn’t bothered to put a coat on over his hooded sweatshirt. His blazing green eyes locked on Nikki, and she wasn’t sure if the adrenaline pumping through her veins was driven by the anxiety of dealing with him or the thrill of seeing him again. “What’s going on?”
“We had questions for your employee regarding Kaylee Thomas.”
“He’s already been alibied,” Rory snapped. “Just because he’s an ex-con doesn’t mean he’s a suspect.”
“Thank you so much for clarifying that. A decade in law enforcement has taught me nothing.”