Page 11 of Her Frozen Heart

“Would you mind letting us look in the toolbox in the back of your truck?”

His eyes widened. “Yes, I would. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I understand, and we don’t mean to offend you, but a teenaged girl was brutally murdered. I’d really like to cross you off the suspect list before we go any further.”

A muscle in Stanton’s cheek twitched. “What happens if I say no?”

“You have the right to do that,” she said. “But since the substance on the bottom of the truck bed looks like blood and you have a box of black trash bags similar to the kind her remains were placed in, not to mention the Drano, we need to look more closely at the truck.”

“The hell you do.” Stanton glared at her. “I know my rights.”

“Your bag of weed and pipe are on the driver’s side floor, in plain sight,” Nikki said. “That’s enough for us to search.”

Stanton put his head in his hands. “I already admitted to the weed, man.”

“I’m aware the legislature passed a law allowing medical marijuana in flower form this year, but most people who use for medical prefer pills or oil,” Nikki said. “Gives them relief a lot faster.”

“It’s also a lot more expensive,” Stanton said. “You really going to arrest me on Christmas Eve for that?”

Nikki seized her chance to earn his trust. “We can legally search the truck with drug paraphernalia in plain sight, especially since you admitted to smoking. Normally we’d already be doing that after we saw the drugs, but given the circumstances, we wanted to speak with you first. Is the red substance in the truck bed blood?”

“It’s deer blood,” Stanton said. “You can do a rapid test to prove that it’s animal blood, right? I saw that on TV.”

“Most of what you see on TV is wrong when it comes to actual police investigations,” Nikki said. “Although that kind of test is being developed, it’s not ready for the field.”

“The blood looks recent,” Reynolds said. “Like it hasn’t had time to fully freeze yet. When did you shoot the deer?”

“Yesterday,” Stanton said, sighing. “Brought it home and skinned it in my garage and was too lazy to clean the truck, okay?”

Nikki wasn’t a hunter, but she knew the deer season was over for most weapons. “I assume you’re using something other than a muzzleloader?”

“Rifle,” Stanton said. “I know it’s illegal, but I’m out of work, and we eat the meat. I didn’t kill him for the rack.”

Nikki wasn’t sure she believed him yet, but the scenario he painted was definitely plausible. “We have evidence technicians on the way to take a sample of the blood and anything we find in the vehicle. What’s in the toolbox?”

“Old tools and junk. The rifle,” he said. “But I have a permit for it. That’s in the truck too.”

“Is the toolbox locked?” Nikki asked.

Stanton crossed his arms over his chest, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Nikki decided to try another tactic. “No one wants to drag this out, Mr. Stanton. It’s a pain in the ass for all of us. What’s important is finding out who killed Kesha, but we have got to clear you first. We’re going to search the toolbox and the inside of the truck. Is there anything we might find that we need to be careful of, like a knife or a needle?”

“I don’t do drugs,” Stanton said.

Miller appeared in the doorway, bringing a blast of cold air with him. “Got it.”

Stanton looked between Miller and Nikki. “Got what?”

“The warrant to search your truck based on everything I just told you,” Nikki said. “We just need to clear you so we can move forward with the investigation. Sheriff, he says the blood is deer blood and admitted to illegally hunting yesterday. I told him we’ll have to collect a sample and confirm the blood type.”

“Is the toolbox locked?” Miller repeated.

“Lock’s broken.” Stanton’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

Nikki glanced at Miller. “Why don’t you and Reynolds go search, and I’ll hang out here.”

Miller checked his phone. “We’ll try to be quick, Mr. Stanton.”

“Am I in trouble for the pipe and the deer?” he asked.

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