Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

have steak on the menu. How hard is it to cook a decent steak?”
    “We just had dinner, Arlo,” said Elaine. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about tomorrow’s lunch.”
    “You know me, I’m a planner. Like to get my ducks all in a row.”
    “Especially if they’re glazed with orange sauce.”
    “Dad,” whined Grace. “I’m
really
tired. I’m going to bed, okay?”
    “Oh, all right,” Doug said. “But I want you up by seven. I’d like to be loaded up and ready to leave by eight.”
    “I think we should be off to bed, too,” said Arlo. He stood, brushing crumbs off his shirt. “Come on, Elaine.”
    “It’s only nine thirty.”
    “Elaine,” Arlo repeated, and tipped his head meaningfully at Maura and Doug.
    “Oh.” Elaine cast a speculative glance at Maura, then rose to her feet, lithe as a cheetah. “It’s been nice getting to know you, Maura,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
    Doug waited for the trio to leave, then said to Maura: “I’m sorry that Grace was such a pill.”
    “She’s a beautiful girl, Doug.”
    “She’s also got a good head on her shoulders. An IQ of a hundred thirty. Not that you could see it tonight. She’s not usually this quiet.”
    “Maybe it’s because I’m coming along. She may not be happy about it.”
    “Don’t even think that, Maura. If she has a problem, she’ll just have to deal with it.”
    “If my coming along feels awkward in any way—”
    “Does it? To you?” His gaze was so probing, she felt compelled to tell the truth.
    “A little,” she admitted.
    “She’s thirteen. Everything about thirteen-year-olds is awkward.I refuse to let that dictate my life.” He lifted his glass. “So here’s to our adventure!”
    She returned the toast, and they sipped, grinning at each other. In the flattering gloom of the cocktail lounge, he looked like that college student she remembered, the reckless young man who’d scaled rooftops and donned ninja outfits. She felt young again, too. Daring and fearless and ready for that adventure.
    “I guarantee,” he said. “We are going to have a great time.”
    D URING THE NIGHT, it had started to snow, and by the time they loaded their luggage into the back of the Suburban, three inches of white fluff coated the cars in the parking lot, a pristine cloak that made the San Diego contingent ooh and ahh at the beauty of it. Doug and Arlo insisted on taking photos of the three ladies posed in front of the hotel entrance, everyone smiling and rosy-cheeked in their ski clothes. Snow was nothing new for Maura, but she saw it now the way these Californians did, with a sense of wonder at how clean and white it was, how softly it settled on her eyelashes, how silently it swirled from the sky. During Boston’s long winters, snow meant tiresome shoveling and wet boots and slushy streets. It was merely a fact of life that had to be dealt with until spring. But this snow seemed different; it was vacation snow, and she smiled at the sky, feeling as giddy as her companions, enchanted by a world that suddenly looked new and bright.
    “Folks, we are going to have an
amazing
time!” Doug declared as he fastened the rented cross-country skis onto the roof of the Suburban. “Fresh powder. Charming company. Dinner by a roaring fire.” He gave the roof straps one last tug. “Okay, team. Let’s go.”
    Grace climbed into the front passenger seat.
    “Hey sweetheart,” said Doug. “How about letting Maura sit next to me?”
    “But this is always my seat.”
    “She’s our guest. Give her the chance to ride shotgun.”
    “Doug, let her stay there,” said Maura. “I’m perfectly fine sitting in back.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Absolutely.” Maura climbed into a seat at the back of the Suburban. “I’m good right here.”
    “Okay. But maybe you two can switch later.” Doug shot his daughter a disapproving glance, but Grace had already inserted her iPod ear buds and was staring out the window, ignoring him.
    In fact, Maura didn’t at all mind sitting alone in the third row, right behind Arlo and Elaine, where she had a view of Arlo’s bald spot and Elaine’s stylishly clipped dark hair. She was the last-minute add-on to the quartet, unfamiliar with their stories and their inside jokes, and she was content to merely be an observer as they headed out of Teton Village and drove south, into the ever-thickening snowfall. The windshield wipers swung back and forth, a metronome sweeping away