Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

from their breath. Maura eyed the winding road out of the valley. There were deep drifts in their way, and even if they did make it up to where they’d abandoned the Suburban, they still had another thirty-mile drive down the mountain. Thirty miles during which they could get stranded again.
    “We could also just stay right where we are,” said Maura.
    “And wait around to be rescued?” Doug snorted. “That’s no way out. I refuse to sit back and be passive.”
    “I’m supposed to fly back to Boston tonight. When I don’t show up, they’ll know something’s wrong. They’ll start searching for me.”
    “You said no one knows you came with us.”
    “The point is, they
will
be searching. We’ve got food and shelter right here. We can hold out as long as we need to. Why take the risk?”
    His face flushed an even deeper shade of red. “Maura, it’s my fault that we got into this mess. Now I’m going to get us out. Just trust me.”
    “I’m not saying I don’t trust you. I’m just pointing out the alternative to getting stuck on that road, where we may not find any shelter.”
    “The alternative? That we sit here and wait for God knows how long?”
    “At least we’re safe.”
    “Are we?” It was Arlo who asked the question. “I mean, I’m just throwing this out there for you all to think about, since I’m the only one who seems to be bothered by it. But this place. This
place …
” He looked around at the deserted houses and shuddered. “Something bad happened here. Something that I’m not sure is over with. I vote for getting the hell out, as soon as we can.”
    “So do I, Daddy,” said Grace.
    “Elaine?” said Doug.
    “Whatever you decide, Doug. I trust you.”
    That’s how we got into this mess in the first place, thought Maura. We all trusted Doug. But she was the outsider, overruled four to one, and nothing she could say would change the balance. And perhaps they were right. There
was
something wrong about this place; she could feel it. Old echoes of evil that seemed to whisper in the wind.
    Maura lifted her shovel again.
    With all of them working together, it took only a few more minutesto clear enough space behind the Jeep. Doug dragged over the clanking tire chains and laid them out behind the rear wheels.
    “Those look pretty banged up,” said Arlo, frowning at the rusted metal.
    “This is all we’ve got,” said Doug.
    “Some of those cross links are broken. Those chains may not make it.”
    “They only have to hold out till we reach the gas station.” Doug climbed into the Jeep and turned the ignition. The engine started up at the first crank. “Okay, we’re good!” He grinned out the window. “Why don’t you ladies pack up some supplies? Whatever you think we might need on the road. Arlo and I will work on the chains.”
    By the time Maura came out of the house with an armful of blankets, the chains were on, and Doug had the Jeep turned around and facing the road. Already it was past noon, and they scrambled to load in food and candles, shovels and the bolt cutter. When they finally all piled into the Jeep, they paused a moment in silence, as though simultaneously offering up prayers for success.
    Doug took a breath and put the Jeep into gear. They began to roll, the chains clanking noisily against the chassis, and churned ahead through the snow.
    “I think this is going to work,” murmured Doug. Maura heard a note of wonder in his voice, as if even he had doubted their chances. “God, I think this is actually going to
work!”
    They left behind the houses and began to climb out of the valley, retracing the route that they had scrambled down on foot a day earlier. Fresh snow had covered their footprints, and they could not be certain where the edges of the road might be, but the Jeep kept barreling ahead, steadily ascending. From the backseat came Arlo’s soft chant, one word repeated over and over.
    Go. Go. Go
.
    Now Elaine and Grace joined in, their voices synchronized in time with the rhythm of the tire chains slapping the truck.
    Go. Go. Go
.
    The chant was mixed with laughter now as they climbed ever higher, almost to the halfway point out of the valley. The road grew steeper, curving in hairpin turns, and they heard snow scraping the undercarriage.
    Go. Go. Go
.
    Even Maura found herself murmuring the words now, not quite saying them aloud but thinking them. Daring to hope that yes, this was going to turn out fine. Yes, they would get out of this