Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

by Tess Gerritsen

  “You really think Grace would take it?”

  “I can’t find it anywhere. It had to be her.”

  “Why would she?”

  “She’s a teenager. Can anyone explain teenagers?”

  “Are you sure you didn’t leave it somewhere in the house?”

  “I’m sure.” In frustration, Elaine threw down the empty backpack. “I know I had it with me in the Jeep when were driving up the road. But after the accident, we were all panicking. I was just focused on Arlo. The last time I remember seeing it, it was on the backseat, next to Grace.” She scanned the room, searching for any hiding place where the purse might be concealed. “She’s the only one who had the chance to take it. You ran down the hill to get the sled. Doug and I were trying to stop the bleeding. But no one was watching Grace.”

  “It could have fallen out of the Jeep.”

  “I told you, I looked all up and down the road.”

  “Maybe it got buried in the snow.”

  “It hasn’t snowed for two days, and everything’s crusted over in ice.” Elaine suddenly jerked straight as the front door opened. She was caught in an unmistakably guilty pose, kneeling beside the empty backpack, the contents strewn on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” said Grace. She slammed the door shut. “That’s my stuff.”

  “Where’s my purse, Grace?” said Elaine.

  “Why are you looking in my backpack?”

  “It has my pills. The bottle of codeine. Arlo needs it.”

  “And you thought you’d find it in my stuff?”

  “Just tell me where it is.”

  “How would I know?” Grace snatched up the backpack and began thrusting her belongings back into it. “How do you know she didn’t take it?” The girl didn’t have to name names; they all knew she was referring to Maura.

  “Grace, I’m just asking you a simple question.”

  “You didn’t even stop to think it could be anyone else. You just assumed it’s me.”

  Elaine sighed. “I’m too tired to have this fight. Just tell me if you know where it is.”

  “Why should I tell you anything? You wouldn’t believe me anyway.” Grace zipped up the pack and threw it over her shoulder as she headed toward the door. “There are eleven other houses here. I don’t see why I have to stay in this one.”

  “Grace, we need to stick together,” said Maura. “I promised your father I’d look after you. Please stay here.”

  “Why should I? I came to tell you what I found, and the first thing I hear when I come in the door is, You’re a thief.”

  “I didn’t say that!” Elaine protested.

  Maura rose and calmly approached the girl. “What did you find, Grace?”

  “As if you’re interested.”

  “I am. I want to know what you found.”

  The girl paused, torn between injured pride and her eagerness to share her news. “It’s outside,” she finally said. “Near the woods.”

  Maura pulled on her jacket and gloves and followed Grace outside. The snow, earlier churned up by all their comings and goings, had crusted over into knobby ice, and Maura navigated carefully over the slippery surface as she and Grace circled to the rear of the house and started across the field of snow, toward the trees.

  “This is what I saw first,” the girl said, pointing to the snow. “These tracks.”

  They were animal footprints. A coyote, thought Maura, or perhaps a wolf. Although blowing snow had obscured the prints in places, it was obvious that they moved in a direct line toward their house.

  “It must have left these prints last night,” said Grace. “Or maybe the night before. Because they’re all frozen over now.” She turned toward the woods. “And there’s something else I want to show you.”

  Grace headed across the field, following the tracks toward a snow-covered mound. It was just a white hillock, its features blending into the vast landscape of snow, where everything was white, where bush and boulder were indistinguishable beneath their thick winter blankets. Only as they drew closer to the mound did Maura see the streak of yellow peeking through, where Grace had swiped away the snow to reveal what was underneath.

  A bulldozer.

  “It’s just sitting out here in the open,” said Grace. “Like they were in the middle of digging up something and they just … stopped.”

  Maura pulled open the door and looked into the driver’s cab. There was no key in the ignition. If they could somehow get it started, they might be able to plow their way up to the road. She looked at Grace. “You wouldn’t know how to hot-wire an engine, would you?”

  “If we had Google, we could look it up.”

  “If we had Google, we’d be long gone from this place.” With a sigh, Maura swung the door shut.

  “See these tracks?” said Grace. “They go right past here and head toward the woods.”

  “We’re in the wild. You’d expect to find animal tracks.”

  “It knows we’re here.” Grace looked around uneasily. “It’s been sniffing around us.”

  “Then we’ll just stay inside at night, okay?” Maura gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. It felt so thin, so fragile through the jacket sleeve, a reminder that this girl was, after all, only thirteen. A child with neither her mother nor her father to comfort her. “I promise, I’ll fight off any wolf that comes to the door,” said Maura.

  “There can’t be just one wolf,” Grace pointed out. “They’re pack animals. If they all attacked, you couldn’t fight them off.”

  “Grace, don’t worry about it. Wolves rarely attack people. They’re probably more scared of us.”

  The girl didn’t look convinced. To prove she wasn’t afraid, Maura followed the tracks toward the trees, into snow that was deeper, so deep that she suddenly plunged in over her knees. This was why deer so easily fell prey in the winter: Heavy animals sank deeply into the snow, and could not outrun the lighter and nimbler wolves.

  “I didn’t do it, you know!” Grace called out after her. “I didn’t take her stupid purse. Like I’d even want it.”

  Suddenly Maura spotted a new set of impressions, and she paused at the edge of the trees, staring. These prints had not been left by wolves. When she realized what she was looking at, a sudden chill lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

  Snowshoes.

  “What would I want with her purse, anyway?” said Grace, still standing by the bulldozer. “You believe me, don’t you? At least you treat me like a grown-up.”

  Maura peered into the woods, straining to make out what lurked in the shelter of those pines. But the trees were too dense, and all she saw were drooping branches and tangled underbrush, a curtain so thick that any number of eyes could be watching her at that moment, and she would not be able to see them.

  “Elaine acts all sweet and concerned about me, but that’s only when Dad’s around,” Grace said. “She makes me want to barf.”

  Slowly, Maura backed away from the woods. Every step seemed alarmingly loud and clumsy. Her boots cracked through the snow crust and snapped dead twigs. And behind her, Grace continued.

  “She’s only nice to me because of him. Women always start off being nice to me. Then they can’t wait to get rid of me.”

  “Let’s go back to the house, Grace,” Maura said quietly.

  “It’s just an act, and Dad’s too blind to see it.” Grace paused as she suddenly saw Maura’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” Maura took the girl’s arm. “It’s getting cold. Let’s go inside.”

  “Are you pissed at me, or what?”

  “No, Grace, I’m not.”

  “Then why are you squeezing me so hard?”

  Maura instantly released the girl’s arm. “I think we should get in before it’s dark. Before the wolves come back.”

  “But you just said they don’t attack people.”

  “I promised your dad I’d look after you, and that’s what I’m trying to do.” She managed a smile. “Come o
n, I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

  Maura did not want to make the girl any more fearful than she already was. So she said nothing to Grace about what she had just seen in the woods. Elaine, though, would have to be told. They needed to be prepared, now that she knew the truth.

  They were not alone in this valley.

  IF SOMEONE’S OUT THERE, WHY HAVEN’T WE SEEN HIM?” ASKED Elaine.

  They sat awake late in the night, alert to every creak, every rustle. On the sofa, Grace slept deeply, unaware of their tense whispers, their anxious speculation. When Maura barred the door and propped a chair against it, Grace had assumed it was to keep out the wolves. But tonight it wasn’t four-legged predators that Maura and Elaine were afraid of.

  “The prints are recent,” said Maura. “Any older than a day or two, and the wind and blowing snow would have covered them.”

  “Why haven’t we seen any other prints?”

  “Maybe he’s managed to erase them. Or he’s watching us from a distance.”

  “Which means he doesn’t want us to know he’s out there.”

  Maura nodded. “It would mean that.”

  Elaine shivered and looked at the hearth. “Well, he’d certainly know we’re here. He could probably spot our light from a mile away.”

  Maura glanced at the window, at the darkness outside. “He could be watching us now.”

  “You could be all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a snowshoe.”

  “It was, Elaine.”

  “Well, I wasn’t there to see it.” She gave a sudden, hysteria-tinged laugh. “It’s like you’re making up some crazy campfire story, just to freak me out.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “She would.” Elaine pointed at Grace, who slept on, unaware. “And she’d get a kick out of it. Was this her idea, to play a practical joke on me? Because I don’t think it’s very funny.”

  “I told you, she doesn’t know about it. I didn’t want to scare her.”

  “If there is someone out there, why doesn’t he just come up and introduce himself? Why’s he hiding out in the woods?” Her eyes narrowed. “You know, Maura, we’re all going a little crazy out here. Arlo’s seeing ghosts. I can’t find my purse. You’re not immune. Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, and those weren’t snowshoe tracks. There’s no watcher in the woods.”

  “Someone else is in this valley. Someone who’s known about us since we arrived.”

  “You only found those tracks today.”

  “There’s something else I haven’t told you about. It happened the first night we got here.” Maura glanced at Grace again, to confirm that the girl was still asleep. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I woke up in the middle of the night and there was snow scattered on the floor. And a footprint. Obviously, someone opened the door, letting in the wind. But all of you were sound asleep. So who opened that door, Elaine? Who came into this house?”

  “You never mentioned this before. Why are you only telling me about it now?”

  “At the time, I assumed that one of you had stepped outside during the night. By the next morning, the footprint was gone, and there was no evidence left. I thought maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing.”

  “You probably did. You’ve built up this paranoid fantasy over nothing. And now you’re freaking me out because of some footprint you thought you saw in the woods.”

  “I’m telling you this because we both need to be alert. We need to watch for other signs.”

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who else could possibly be out here, the abominable snowman?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If he’s been inside this house, if he’s been skulking around watching us, why haven’t any of us seen him?”

  “I have,” a soft voice said. “I’ve seen him.”

  Maura had not noticed that Arlo was awake. She turned and saw that he was watching them, his eyes dull and sunken. She moved closer to him, to speak in a whisper. “What did you see?” she asked.

  “I told you yesterday. Think it was yesterday …” He swallowed, wincing with the effort. “God, I don’t know anymore how long it’s been.”

  “I don’t remember you saying anything,” said Elaine.

  “It was dark. Face looking in.”

  “Oh.” Elaine sighed. “He’s talking about those ghosts again. All those people he keeps seeing in the room.” She knelt beside Arlo and tucked in his blanket. “You’re just having bad dreams. The fever’s making you see things that aren’t here.”

  “Didn’t imagine him.”

  “No one else sees him. It’s those pain pills. Honey, you’re confused.”

  Again, Arlo tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry and he couldn’t quite manage it. “He was there,” he whispered. “Saw him.”

  “You need to drink some more,” said Maura. She filled a cup and tilted it to his lips. He managed to swallow only a few sips before he started coughing, and the water dribbled down the sides of his mouth. Weakly he pushed the cup away and collapsed back with a groan. “Enough.”

  Maura set the cup down and studied him. He had not urinated in hours, and the sound of his breathing had changed. It was coarse and rattling, a sign that he was aspirating fluid into his lungs. If he grew much weaker, it would be dangerous to force him to drink, but the alternative was to let him sink into dehydration and shock. Either way, she thought, we are losing him.

  “Tell me again,” she said. “What you saw.”

  “Faces.”

  “People in the room?”

  He took in another rattling breath. “And in the window.”

  Is someone there now?

  An icy breath whispered up her spine, and Maura spun around to look at the window. All she saw beyond the glass was darkness. No ghostly face, no demonic eyes stared back at her.

  Elaine burst out in scornful laughter. “You see? Now both of you are losing it! I’m beginning to think I’m the only sane person left in this house.”

  Maura crossed to the window. Outside, the night was as thick as a velvet drape, concealing whatever secrets lurked in the valley. But her imagination filled in the details she could not see, painting with splashes of blood and horror. Something had caused the previous occupants of this settlement to flee, leaving doors unlocked, windows open, and meals uneaten. Something so terrible it had caused them to abandon cherished pets to cold and starvation. Was it still here, the thing that drove them from this place? Or was there nothing at all out there except her own dark fantasies, born of fear and isolation?

  It’s this place. It’s playing with our minds, stealing our sanity.

  She thought of the relentless sequence of catastrophes that had stranded them here. The snowstorm, the wrong road. The Suburban’s slide into the ditch. It was as if they were fated to end up here, lured like innocent prey into the trap of Kingdom Come, and any attempt to flee would meet only with more misfortune. Hadn’t Arlo’s accident proven the folly of trying to escape? And where was Doug? Nearly two mornings ago, he had walked out of the valley. By now, help should have arrived.

  Which meant he had not made it. Kingdom Come had not allowed him to escape, either.

  She gave herself a shake and turned from the window, suddenly disgusted with herself for entertaining thoughts of the supernatural. This was what stress did to even the most logical minds: It created monsters who didn’t exist.

  But I know I saw that print in the snow. And Arlo saw a face in the window.

  She went to the door, pulled away the chair she’d propped there, and slid open the bolt.

  “What are you doing?” said Elaine.

  “I want to find out if I am imagining things.” Maura pulled on her jacket and zipped it up.

  “You’re going outside?”

  “Why not? You’re the one who thinks I’m going insane. You keep insisting there’s nothing out there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Arlo saw a face at the window. It hasn’t snowed in three d
ays. If someone was standing outside, their prints might still be there.”

  “Will you just stay inside, please? You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “I’m proving this to myself.” Maura picked up the kerosene lamp and reached for the door. Even as she grasped the knob, she had to beat back the fear that was screaming at her: Don’t go out! Lock the bolt! But such fears were illogical. No one had tried to harm them; they themselves had brought on all their misfortunes, through a series of bad decisions.

  She opened the door and stepped outside.

  The night was still and silent. No wind blew, no trees rustled. The loudest sound was her own heart, pounding in her chest. The door suddenly opened again and Elaine emerged, wearing her jacket.

  “I’m coming, too.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “If you find any more footprints, I want to see them for myself.”

  Together they circled around to the side of the house where the window faced. They had not tramped this way before, and as Maura scanned the snow by the light of the kerosene lamp, she saw no footprints, only unbroken snow. But when they reached the window she stopped, staring down at the unmistakable evidence revealed by the lamplight.

  Now Elaine saw it, too, and she sucked in a breath. “Those look like wolf tracks.”

  As if in answer, a distant howl pierced the night, followed by an answering chorus of yips and wails that sent shivers racing across Maura’s skin. “These are right under the window,” she said.

  Elaine suddenly burst out laughing. “Well, that explains the face that Arlo saw, doesn’t it?”

  “How?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Elaine turned toward the woods, and her laughter was as wild and uncontrollable as the wails coming from the forest. “Werewolves!”

  Abruptly, the howls ceased. The silence that followed was so complete, so unexplainable, that Maura felt her skin prickling. “Back inside,” she whispered. “Now.”

  They ran through crusted snow, back to the porch and into the house. Maura slid the bolt home and dragged the chair against it. For a moment, they stood panting, saying nothing. In the hearth, a log collapsed into the bed of glowing ashes, and sparks flew up.