Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

have to face
.
    “I can’t imagine Maura ever checking into a place like this,” said Gabriel.
    Jane stared across the road at the sign advertising SUPER SAVER WEEKLY AND MONTHLY RATES AVAILABLE! INQUIRE INSIDE ! There wasdesperation in that sign, a last-ditch appeal to stay in business. No, she could not imagine Maura checking into one of those tired-looking cabins.
    Gabriel took her arm as they crossed the icy road. He seemed eerily calm, and that was exactly what she needed from him at this moment. This was the Gabriel she’d met two summers ago, when they’d worked their first homicide together, a man whose cool efficiency had made him seem remote and heartless. It was merely the persona he adopted when situations turned grim. She glanced up at her husband, and his resoluteness steadied her own nerves.
    They approached a sheriff’s deputy, who stood arguing with a young woman.
    “I need to talk with Fahey,” the woman insisted. “We need more information or we can’t do our jobs.”
    “Sheriff’s kind of busy right now, Cathy.”
    “We’re responsible for her welfare. At least tell me their names. Who’s the next of kin?”
    “You’ll know when we know.”
    “The couple’s from Plain of Angels, aren’t they?”
    The deputy frowned at her. “How’d you hear that?”
    “I keep track of those people. I make it my business to know when they show up in town.”
    “Maybe you should mind your own business for a change and leave those folks alone.”
    She snorted. “Maybe you should try doing your job, Bobby. At least
pretend
to follow up on my complaints.”
    “Leave. Now.”
    “You tell Sheriff Fahey I’ll be calling him.” The woman huffed out a breath so fierce that steam clouded her face as she spun around. She halted in surprise to find Jane and Gabriel standing right behind her. “Hope you have better luck with these people,” she muttered, and stalked off down the driveway.
    “Was that a reporter?” Gabriel asked, with the sympathy of a fellow lawman.
    “Naw, county social worker. Those bleeding hearts are a real pain in the ass.” The deputy looked Gabriel up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”
    “Sheriff Fahey is expecting us. Detective Queenan called to let him know we were coming.”
    “You the folks from Boston?”
    “Yes, sir. Agent Dean and Detective Rizzoli.” Gabriel struck just the right note of respect to emphasize that he knew whose jurisdiction they were in. And who was in charge.
    The deputy, who looked no older than his midtwenties, was young enough to be flattered by Gabriel’s approach. “Come with me, sir. Ma’am.”
    They followed him to the Circle B check-in cottage. Inside, a wood fire crackled in the hearth, and low pine beams overhead made the space feel as claustrophobic as a dark cave. The cold wind outside had numbed Jane’s face, and she stood near the fire as the heat slowly brought sensation back to her cheeks. The room was a time capsule from the 1960s, the wall adorned with bullwhips and spurs and muddy-colored paintings of cowboys. She heard voices talking in the back room—two men, she thought, until she peered through the doorway and saw that one of them was a blond woman with weather-beaten skin and a smoker’s hacking cough.
    “… never did lay eyes on the wife,” the woman said. “He’s the one who checked in.”
    “Why didn’t you ask for his ID?”
    “He paid cash and signed in. This ain’t Russia, you know. Last I checked, folks are free to come and go in this country. Besides, he looked like good people.”
    “You could tell?”
    “Polite and respectful. Drove in during that snowstorm Saturday, and said they needed a place to stay while they waited for the roads to be cleared. Sounded reasonable to me.”
    “Sheriff?” the deputy called out. “Those people from Boston are here.”
    Fahey waved at them through the doorway. “Hold on,” he said, and continued his conversation with the manager. “They checked in two days ago, Marge. When was the last time you cleaned their cabin?”
    “Never got the chance. They had the DO NOT DISTURB sign hanging on the knob Saturday and Sunday. Figured they wanted their privacy so I left ’em alone. Then this morning, I noticed it wasn’t hanging there anymore. So I went into the room around two o’clock to clean it. That’s when I found ’em.”
    “So the last time you saw that man alive was when he checked in?”
    “They couldn’t have been dead all that time. They