Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

is still missing.”
    That’s a hell of a lot better than dead
. Only now, as all her fears dissipated, could Jane begin to focus on the crime scene with a cop’s eyes. Suddenly she noticed details that she’d missed earlier. The lingering odor of cigarette smoke. The puddles of melted snow and multiple boot prints tracking across the floor, left by law enforcement personnel. And something that she should have spotted as soon as she’d entered the cabin: the small portable crib, tucked into the far corner.
    She looked at Fahey. “Was there a child in here?”
    He nodded. “Baby girl. Around eight, nine months old according to the county social worker. They took her into protective custody.”
    Jane remembered the woman they’d just met outside. Now she knew why a social worker had been on the scene. “So the child was alive,” she said.
    “Yeah. Killer didn’t touch her. She was found in that crib over there. Diaper was soaked, but otherwise she was in good shape.”
    “After being left unfed for a day, two days?”
    “There were four empty baby bottles in the crib. Kid never had a chance to get dehydrated.”
    “The baby must have been screaming,” said Gabriel. “No one heard her?”
    “They were the only guests staying at the Circle B. And as you noticed, this cabin’s off by itself. Well insulated, windows shut. Outside, you might not hear a thing.”
    Jane approached the dead man again. Stood looking down at a face so destroyed it was hard to tell it had ever been human. “He didn’t fight back,” she said.
    “Killer probably took him by surprise.”
    “The woman, I can see. She was in the shower, so she might not hear someone coming in. But the man?” She looked at Fahey. “Was the door forced?”
    “No. Windows were all latched. Either the victims left the door unlocked, or they let the killer in themselves.”
    “And this victim’s so surprised that he doesn’t defend himself? Even while his head’s being bashed in?”
    “That bothered me, too,” said Dr. Draper. “No obvious defense wounds. He just let the killer in, turned his back, and he got whacked.”
    The knock on the door made them all turn. The deputy stuck his head into the cabin. “We just got confirmation on those plates. Car registration matches up with the victim’s ID. Name is John Pomeroy. Plain of Angels, Idaho.”
    There was a silence.
    “Oh my,” Dr. Draper said. “Those people.”
    “What people?” asked Jane.
    “They call themselves The Gathering. Some kind of religious commune out in Idaho. Lately they’ve been moving into Sublette County.” The coroner looked at Fahey. “These two must have been headed up to that new settlement.”
    “That’s not where they were going,” said the deputy.
    Dr. Draper looked at him. “You sound pretty sure of yourself, Deputy Martineau.”
    “Because I was up there just last week. The valley’s completely deserted. They’ve all packed up and left for the winter.”
    Fahey frowned at the dead man. “Then why were these two people in town?”
    “I can tell you they weren’t going to Kingdom Come,” said Deputy Martineau. “That road’s been closed since Saturday. And it won’t be open again till spring.”

H
YDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE .
T HAT WAS THE MANTRA THAT KEPT going through Maura’s head as she coaxed Arlo to drink water, ever more water. She mixed a pinch of salt and a tablespoon of sugar into every cup—a poor man’s version of Gatorade. By forcing the fluids into him, she’d keep up his blood pressure and flush his kidneys. It meant repeatedly changing his towels as they got saturated with urine, but urine was a good thing. If he stopped producing it, it meant he was going into shock, and he was doomed.
    He may be doomed anyway, she thought as she watched him swallow the last two antibiotic capsules. Against the infection now raging in his leg, amoxicillin was little more than a magical charm. Already she could smell the impending gangrene, could see the creeping edge of necrotic tissue in his calf. Another day, perhaps two at the most, and she would be left with no choice, if she wanted to save him.
    The leg would have to come off.
    Can I really bring myself to do it? To amputate that leg without anesthesia?
She was familiar with the anatomy. She could hunt down the necessary instruments from kitchens and garages. All she really needed were sharp knives and a sterilized saw. It was not the mechanics of amputation that made her hands