Page 91 of The Girls in the Snow
“She worked at the club he frequented. He could have easily found out she was new and down on her luck. He uses her to mislead us, but he has some fun along the way.” Disgust rolled through her.
“We need to get his fingerprints,” Liam said.
“And his DNA,” Miller said. “But without a court order—”
“That will take too long,” Nikki said. “But I have an idea.”
Thirty-Nine
Nikki sent a text to Courtney and told her to expect to have John’s fingerprints by the end of the day. She fidgeted in the passenger seat and wished she’d taken the jeep. Miller drove too slowly. She needed to get control of her emotions. John would sense her weakness and exploit it. Nikki had to approach him just as she would any other suspect. They had enough circumstantial evidence to scare John into talking, and she intended to push him into letting his guard down and making a mistake.
“How do you want to play this?” Miller asked as they approached the Bankses’ front door.
“You lead with Liam’s information. I’ll follow up about the pictures.” Nikki jammed her hands in her coat pockets. She couldn’t allow John to see her anger.
He finally opened the door after Miller rang the bell three times. The reek of vodka threatened Nikki’s gag reflex.
John looked at them in confusion. “You have news.”
“Developments,” Miller said.
“Is Bailey in bed?” Nikki asked.
“He’s upstairs watching TV.”
“Where’s Amy?”
“She’s resting in the living room.”
“Good. She should hear this too.” Nikki held her breath as she walked past him into the living room.
Amy looked up from the couch, her eyes glazed. “Agent Hunt?”
“Did you take more painkillers?”
“No, just my sleeping pills.” Amy slowly sat up. Her hair was matted, and she hadn’t showered in a couple of days.
Miller caught Nikki’s eye and then looked at the kitchen. Empty takeout boxes covered the counter, empty liquor bottles in the sink. Nikki clenched her fists to keep herself from saying something she’d regret. “Sergeant Miller has some questions for you.”
“Yeah? Does he have information about who killed our daughter?” John took a long drink from the porcelain Disney World souvenir cup on the table next to him.
“Some of Roan’s dock workers said you like to use the emergency stairwell and take long walks,” Miller said. “We’ve got a warrant for the security footage from the Saturday Kaylee and Madison disappeared.”
John stilled. “You won’t find me on it.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve lied to us so many times I don’t know what to believe,” Nikki said. “I heard you like to take pictures.”
John stared at her a beat too long. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Tension simmered in the air between them. “Did you take Polaroids of me at the party when I was knocked out?” Nikki made sure to emphasize the last two words. She was counting on John losing his temper.
“What are you talking about?” John shifted in his chair, not meeting her gaze.
“You took pictures and showed them to your buddies. Asked them if they wanted a turn. Mark got to me before anyone else could.”
Contempt shined in his eyes. “Who told you that ridiculous story?”
“Mark Todd.”
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