Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

scavenging.”
    “Chased a buncha teenagers out of that ravine last night. They were hunting for souvenirs.”
    “We’re law enforcement,” said Jane.
    The man shot a dubious glance at their rental car. “From out of town?”
    “One of the victims was our friend. She died in that ravine.”
    That seemed to take him aback. He stared at her for a long time, as though trying to decide whether to believe her. He kept his gaze on them, even as a Sublette County Sheriff’s Department vehicle rounded the curve and pulled to a stop behind the pickup truck.
    A familiar police officer stepped out of the vehicle. It was Deputy Martineau, whom they’d met at the double homicide a few nights earlier. “Hey, Monty,” he called out. “So what’s going on here?”
    “Caught these people trespassing, Bobby. They claim they’re law enforcement.”
    Martineau glanced at Jane and Gabriel. “Uh, actually, they are.”
    “What?”
    He gave a polite nod to Jane and Gabriel. “It’s Agent Dean, right? And hello, ma’am. Sorry about the misunderstanding, but Mr. Loftus here’s been a little jumpy about trespassers. Especially after those kids came by last night.”
    “How do you know these people?” Loftus demanded, clearly not convinced.
    “Monty, they’re okay. I saw them over at the Circle B, when they came by to talk to Fahey.” He turned to Jane and Gabriel, and his voice softened. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your friend.”
    “Thank you, Deputy,” said Gabriel.
    Loftus gave a conciliatory grunt. “Then I guess I owe you folks an apology.” He extended his hand.
    Gabriel shook it. “No apologies needed, sir.”
    “It’s just that I spotted your car and thought we had more ofthose souvenir hunters down there. Crazy kids, all into that death and vampire nonsense.” Loftus looked down at the charred Suburban in the ravine. “Not like it used to be when I was growing up here. When folks respected property rights. Now anyone thinks they can come hunting on my land. Leave my gates wide open.”
    Jane could read the look that flickered across Martineau’s face:
I’ve heard him say this a thousand times before
.
    “And you never show up in time to do anything, Bobby,” Loftus added.
    “I’m here now, ain’t I?” protested Martineau.
    “You come by my place later, and I’ll show you what they did to my gates. Something has to be done.”
    “Okay.”
    “I mean
today
, Bobby.” Loftus climbed into his pickup truck, and the engine rattled to life. With a gruff wave, he called out, grudgingly, “Sorry again, folks,” and drove away.
    “Who is that guy?” asked Jane.
    Martineau laughed. “Montgomery Loftus. His family used to own like, a gazillion acres around here. Double L Ranch.”
    “He was pretty pissed at us. I thought he was going to blast us with that rifle.”
    “He’s pissed about everything these days. You know how it is with some old folks. Always complaining it ain’t the way it used to be.”
    It never is, thought Jane as she watched Martineau climb back into his vehicle. And it won’t be the same in Boston, either. Not with Maura gone.
    As they drove back to the hotel, Jane stared out the window, thinking about the last conversation she’d had with Maura. It was in the morgue, and they’d been standing at the autopsy table as Maura sliced into a cadaver. She’d talked about her upcoming trip to Wyoming. How she’d never been there, how she looked forward to seeing elk and buffalo and maybe even a wolf or two. They’dtalked about Jane’s mother, and Barry Frost’s divorce, and how life always kept surprising you. You just never know, Maura had said, what lies around the corner.
    No, you never do. You had no idea you’d be coming home from Wyoming in a coffin
.
    They pulled into the hotel parking lot, and Gabriel shut off the engine. For a moment they sat without speaking. There was still so much to do, she thought. Make phone calls. Sign papers. Arrange for the coffin’s transportation. The thought of it all exhausted her. But at least they’d be going home, now. To Regina.
    “I know it’s only noon,” said Gabriel. “But I think we could both use a drink.”
    She nodded. “I second that.” She pushed open her door and stepped out, into the softly falling snow. They held on to each other as they walked across the parking lot, their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s waists. How much harder this day would have been without him here, she