Page 24 of The Girls in the Snow

“About a couple of weeks before.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Miller’s voice was sharp.

“Because Ricky didn’t have anything to do with it,” Jessica said flatly. “You know he was visiting his brother at Oak Park Heights when the girls went missing.” Oak Park Heights was the same prison where Mark Todd was housed. Was Nikki going to have one conversation today that didn’t have ties to that man?

“His brother’s serving eight for larceny,” Miller said. “Ricky did visit that day, but he was back by the afternoon.”

Jessica crossed her arms, both knees bouncing now. “He went back to work. His boss alibied him. Look, you guys didn’t need to be chasing dead ends. I know Ricky didn’t do it.”

Something wasn’t adding up. Jessica had been desperate to find her daughter, and keeping information from the police didn’t make sense. “Jessica, what aren’t you telling us?”

“Excuse me?”

“The only way to be absolutely certain that Ricky didn’t take the girls is knowing his whereabouts at the time of the abduction,” Nikki said. “Which means you were in contact with him.”

“If Amy Banks hears this, I guarantee you she’ll start screaming about you being involved and covering up for Ricky,” Miller said.

Jessica’s face turned red. “I would never—”

“Then you need to tell us everything,” Nikki said. “Or I’m going to start digging into Ricky’s alibi, and I will find the truth.”

The woman’s shoulders dropped. She rested her elbows on the table, head in her hands.

“I was with Ricky that afternoon. He came to my work when he got back into town. He was there during the time the police think they were abducted. And then he went to work. Clocked in and out.”

“So why didn’t you tell us before?” Miller asked.

“I need my job. And I’m just trying to help patients.”

“What do you mean?” Nikki asked.

“Do you know how expensive it is to get old and die? Medicare fights coverage on everything they don’t feel is necessary. God forbid the patient not be in so much pain. I just can’t stand seeing them suffer. So I asked Ricky to get me something to help them.”

Miller sighed. “Ricky sold you pain medication?”

“He didn’t sell it to me,” Jessica said. “I took them from him—used the pictures on his phone as blackmail.”

“Wait a minute,” Miller said. “Were those pictures of minors? Because blackmailing him with pictures of adult women makes no sense.”

“If they were kids, I would have called the police, I swear. A couple of them were taken at a construction site. He’d been screwing other girls on the site. His boss would have fired him on the spot.” Jessica’s head dropped to her hands. “I know it’s all wrong, but I swear I didn’t make a dime off it. I just snuck the pills to—”

“I don’t want to know the name, and I don’t want to know if you received compensation for the pills,” Miller said. “You realize opioids are being laced with fentanyl, right? Surely you’ve read about it on the news? The patient could have died from a bad batch; they’re all over Stillwater.”

“Ricky swore these were pure.”

“Did Kaylee know you were doing this?” Nikki asked.

“I had to tell her, because she’d overheard us arguing about the pictures and wanted to know why I wasn’t telling his boss.”

“And she didn’t negotiate to keep the secret? A phone perhaps?” A cell phone was a teenager’s lifeline. Losing it was like cutting off a hand.

Jessica shook her head. “She knows what it’s like for the residents. She said I should help them.”

Nikki left Miller to finish interviewing Jessica while she checked out Kaylee’s bedroom. She had the larger of the two bedrooms, but the twin bed and mismatched dresser took up most of the real estate, along with an old bookshelf loaded with various paperbacks from thrift stores. Nikki carefully sifted through the books in search of a phone. Mystery and science fiction dominated the collection, but a dog-eared copy ofThe Outsiderswas full of sticky notes.

Two storage containers under the bed held sweaters and other winter gear. Nothing beneath the mattress or jammed inside the rickety nightstand. A portrait-sized mirror was propped on the dresser. Hairbrush, several hair ties, along with drugstore foundation, blush, eyeshadow. Nothing over the top.

A couple of Polaroid pictures had been taped to the mirror. How in the hell were those things popular again? Their picture quality had improved but was nothing like cell phone or digital camera pictures. But the instant gratification of the Polaroid probably appealed to an impatient teenager.

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