Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

bleeding. You need to hold him still, Elaine. Because he’s going to wake up.” He glanced at Maura and nodded.
    She barely loosened the tourniquet and a spurt of blood exploded from the wound, splattering Doug’s cheek.
    “It’s the anterior tibial,” said Doug. “I’m sure of it.”
    “Tighten the belt!” Elaine said, panicking. “He’s bleeding too much!”
    Maura refastened the tourniquet and looked at Doug. He took a breath and began to cut.
    At the first slice of the knife, Arlo jolted awake with a scream.
    “Hold him! Hold him still!” Doug yelled.
    Arlo kept screaming, battling them away, the tendons on his neck so taut they looked ready to snap. Elaine wrestled his shoulders back to the floor, but she could not stop him from thrashing and kicking at his torturers. Maura tried to pin his thighs, but blood and sweat had made his bare skin slippery, so she threw her weight across his hips. Arlo’s scream rose to a shriek that penetrated straight to her bones, a shriek so piercing it felt as if the sound were coming from her own body, as if she were screaming as well. Doug said something, but she couldn’t hear him through that scream. Only when she glanced up did she see that he had set down the knife. He looked exhausted, his face gleaming with sweat even in that cold room.
    “It’s done,” he said. Rocking back on his knees, he wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “I think I got it.”
    Arlo gave an agonized sob. “Fuck you, Doug. Fuck all of you.”
    “Arlo, we had to do it,” said Doug. “Maura, loosen that tourniquet. Let’s see if we got the bleeding controlled.”
    Slowly Maura released the belt, half expecting to see another gush of blood. But there was no trickle, not even a slow ooze.
    Doug touched Arlo’s foot. “The skin’s still cool. But I think it’s starting to pink up.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t see any perfusion.”
    “No, look. It’s definitely changing color.” He pressed his palm against the flesh. “I think it’s warming up.”
    Maura frowned at skin that looked every bit as dead and pale as it had before, but she said nothing. It made no difference what she thought; Doug had convinced himself that the operation was a success, that they’d done exactly what they should have. That everything was going to be fine. In Doug’s world, everything always turned out fine. So be bold, jump out of planes, and let the universe take care of you.
    At least the tourniquet was now off. At least he was no longer bleeding.
    She rose to her feet, the sour stink of Arlo’s sweat on her clothes. Exhausted by his ordeal, Arlo was now quiet and drifting to sleep. Massaging her aching neck, she went to the window and stared out, relieved to turn her attention to something else, anything else but their patient. “It’s going to be dark in an hour,” she said. “We can’t get out of here now.”
    “Not in the Jeep,” said Doug. “Not with that broken tire chain.” She could hear him rattling through all the pill bottles. “We have enough Percocet to keep him comfortable for at least another day. Plus Elaine says she has codeine in her purse, if I can just find it.”
    Maura turned from the window. Everyone looked as drained as she felt. Elaine sat slumped against the couch. Doug was staring listlessly at the array of pill bottles. And Grace—Grace had long ago fled the room.
    “He needs to get to a hospital,” said Maura.
    “You said you’re expected back in Boston tonight,” said Elaine. “They’ll be searching.”
    “The problem is, they won’t know where to look.”
    “There was that old guy in the gas station. The one who sold you the newspaper. He’ll remember us. When he hears you’re missing, he’ll call the police. Eventually
someone’s
going to show up here.”
    Maura looked down at Arlo, who had sunk back into unconsciousness.
But not soon enough for him
.

W HAT DID YOU WANT TO SHOW ME?” ASKED D OUG .
    “Just come with me,” whispered Maura. Pausing at the door, she glanced back at the room, where the others had fallen asleep. Now was the time to slip away. She picked up the kerosene lamp and stepped outside, into the night.
    A full moon had risen, and the sky was awash in stars. She did not need the lamp to see the way; the snow itself seemed to luminesce beneath their boots. The wind had died, and the only sound was their footsteps crunching through the icy glaze that coated the snow like meringue. She led the way up the row