Page 5 of Her Frozen Heart

Cursing, she cut right and squeezed into an opening between Miller’s SUV and the dive team’s van. Between the poor condition of the skinny, winding road leading to the parking lot and her apprehension over what she was about to encounter, her nerves were a jumbled mess.

Nikki grabbed her things and got out of the jeep before the media could surround her. She double-checked that her phone and latex gloves were in her coat pocket and then held up her hands at the encroaching throng.

“No comment, guys.”

“But Agent Hunt—” A young reporter emerged from the same white SUV that had whipped by Nikki minutes earlier.

“I just got here,” she snapped. “It’s Christmas. Stop looking for the big story and enjoy your holiday. And stop driving like an idiot.” Nikki brushed past all of them. As pushy as the reporters and their camera people could be, they’d worked in the area long enough to know not to challenge Nikki—yet, anyway.

Free of the crowd, she headed toward the lake access. Feet shuffled behind her, and Nikki imagined the group moving together behind her in unison like a determined pack of hunting dogs.

Several camera-mounted tripods, each from a different station, had been placed to the right of the ramp that led into the water. Fortunately, a DNR truck along with two Minnesota Department of Natural Resources deputies blocked direct access to the lake.

“Agent Hunt’s the only one who gets past this point.” The female DNR officer nodded at Nikki. “They’re waiting for you. We’ll deal with these guys.”

A football field away, crime scene tape surrounded the white tent that had been set up over the dive area. At least there wouldn’t be any footage of the remains being retrieved from the depths of the lake.

“Thanks,” Nikki said, trying to hide her nerves. This time of year, most people parked in the lot and took smaller ATVs or walked out to their ice shack, but the dive team had taken a couple of amphibious vehicles to the recovery area.

Frost had used a similar vehicle when he killed Nikki’s childhood friend and left her body up north for the rangers to find. He’d also planned to use it to escape with Nikki and Lacey after he’d kidnapped her daughter and killed Tyler. Nikki would have drowned that day if it weren’t for Liam’s girlfriend, Caitlin, and ever since, she’d been nervous around water. She still had nightmares about sinking into the deep lake, unable to save herself or Lacey. A few inches of ice made water even more terrifying.

Out on the ice, Miller waved his arms and motioned for her to join them, his bright orange winter hat a beacon in the snow. Nikki wished that Liam were here. His calming presence would make things a lot easier, but he was still recovering from post-concussive syndrome and limited to desk duty. Nikki made sure she had her cell phone, notebook and pen tucked into her coat pockets. She grabbed the life jacket the DNR officer offered and made sure it was secure. Heart pounding, she started out on the ice, penguin-style as snow whirled around her.

Just put one foot in front of the other, she told herself.Plenty of people heavier than you have walked out on this ice and been fine. Worst-case scenario, you fall on your ass and it’ll be on the evening news.

Nikki’s left foot slid, and she stuck out her arms to keep her balance. Miller walked confidently towards her, his wool hat pulled down to his eyes.

“Please tell me you have a spare set of ice cleats,” Nikki said. Miller’s family were into everything outdoors, and the back of his SUV was always loaded with seasonal necessities.

Miller held up a pair of slip-on ice cleats. “They’re medium.”

“My feet are size eight, so that should work. Thanks.” Nikki held onto Miller’s arm as she shimmied the cleats onto the bottom of her boots. She’d never worn cleats before, but Nikki could tell the short spikes gripped the ice a lot better than her regular boots. She let go of Miller and carefully fell into step next to him. “Where are they at on recovery?”

Dives were usually planned in advance, especially in sub-zero temperatures, but in Nikki’s experience, protocol was often broken for missing kids. The task might be miserable, but in cases involving children, every available diver wanted to recover the victim ASAP for the family.

“They just finished bringing her up,” Miller said grimly. “Her hands and feet have been cut off. The rest of her body was in a black bag, but the weights that had been fixed to her legs somehow slipped out of it, so the body had started to come off the bottom of the lake. That’s how the ice fisher—his name’s Stanton—managed to get her to the surface.”

Miller pointed to the crooked line of small shacks along the northeastern side of the lake. “Most people come out here for pan fish like crappie or blue gill, which is why the shacks are set up in a shallower area. Victim was left a little further out, at a depth of around thirty feet. Only reason the ice fisher found her was because he wanted to fish for bass. He went another ten to fifteen feet out onto the ice and saw an already used spot and decided to try it.”

Nikki squinted against the cold wind rushing in from the north. “In my experience, killers usually go for the deepest parts of the lake, which means Kesha must have been left after the ice came in. Not to mention you said Stanton recognized her? Is that even possible?”

Miller’s dark skin was an ashy color that Nikki had learned to associate with the very worst of moments. “I saw her. Her face is in good condition, and she has a tattoo of a frog on her hip. It’s Kesha.”

“He just happened to pick the spot she’d been left in, weighted down?” Nikki asked. “What do we know about Stanton?”

“He claims he chose that spot because it was obvious the ice had been cut recently and would be easier to access. According to the DNR, the first time the ice measured more than six inches was less than two weeks ago,” Miller said.

“It’s been a month since Kesha was taken,” Nikki said. She could only imagine what Kesha had endured in the interim, unless she’d been killed quickly and hidden somewhere else until the killer could put her body into the lake. “What a nightmare. Where’s Stanton now?”

“He’s waiting in the main building to talk to us, on the south side of the lake.” Miller worried the corner of his mouth. “Stanton’s strategy for finding a spot makes sense to me, but something about Stanton is off. You know someone started a GoFundMe a couple of weeks ago to raise money for information on Kesha’s whereabouts? As of yesterday afternoon, it was up to twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“Interesting timing, then,” Nikki said. “Is Stanton the one who told the media it was Kesha?”

Miller looked shocked. “They already have her name? I saw them piling into the parking area, but I figured someone had heard we’d found remains on a police scanner or something.”

Nikki nodded. “I heard it on The Current on the drive out.”

“I haven’t even come in off the ice since they pulled her out of the water,” Miller said. “Meaning only you, myself, and the divers know her identity.” He paced on the ice without so much as a wobble. “Deputy Reynolds is with Stanton, and he was told not to contact anyone other than to let his family know he was all right until we informed next of kin.” Miller’s voice dripped with anger. “I hope to God the local police get to her parents before they hear it on the news. I just spoke to the local police about twenty minutes ago, and they were leaving to inform the family.”

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