Rizzoli & Isles 8-Book Set

other prints?”
    “Maybe he’s managed to erase them. Or he’s watching us from a distance.”
    “Which means he doesn’t want us to know he’s out there.”
    Maura nodded. “It would mean that.”
    Elaine shivered and looked at the hearth. “Well, he’d certainlyknow
we’re
here. He could probably spot our light from a mile away.”
    Maura glanced at the window, at the darkness outside. “He could be watching us now.”
    “You could be all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a snowshoe.”
    “It was, Elaine.”
    “Well, I wasn’t there to see it.” She gave a sudden, hysteria-tinged laugh. “It’s like you’re making up some crazy campfire story, just to freak me out.”
    “I wouldn’t do that.”
    “
She
would.” Elaine pointed at Grace, who slept on, unaware. “And she’d get a kick out of it. Was this her idea, to play a practical joke on me? Because I don’t think it’s very funny.”
    “I told you, she doesn’t know about it. I didn’t want to scare her.”
    “If there
is
someone out there, why doesn’t he just come up and introduce himself? Why’s he hiding out in the woods?” Her eyes narrowed. “You know, Maura, we’re all going a little crazy out here. Arlo’s seeing ghosts. I can’t find my purse. You’re not immune. Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, and those weren’t snowshoe tracks. There’s no watcher in the woods.”
    “Someone else is in this valley. Someone who’s known about us since we arrived.”
    “You only found those tracks today.”
    “There’s something else I haven’t told you about. It happened the first night we got here.” Maura glanced at Grace again, to confirm that the girl was still asleep. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I woke up in the middle of the night and there was snow scattered on the floor. And a footprint. Obviously, someone opened the door, letting in the wind. But all of you were sound asleep. So who opened that door, Elaine? Who came into this house?”
    “You never mentioned this before. Why are you only telling me about it now?”
    “At the time, I assumed that one of you had stepped outside duringthe night. By the next morning, the footprint was gone, and there was no evidence left. I thought maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing.”
    “You probably did. You’ve built up this paranoid fantasy over nothing. And now you’re freaking
me
out because of some footprint you
thought
you saw in the woods.”
    “I’m telling you this because we both need to be alert. We need to watch for other signs.”
    “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who else could possibly be out here, the abominable snowman?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “If he’s been inside this house, if he’s been skulking around watching us, why haven’t any of us seen him?”
    “I have,” a soft voice said. “I’ve seen him.”
    Maura had not noticed that Arlo was awake. She turned and saw that he was watching them, his eyes dull and sunken. She moved closer to him, to speak in a whisper. “What did you see?” she asked.
    “I told you yesterday. Think it was yesterday …” He swallowed, wincing with the effort. “God, I don’t know anymore how long it’s been.”
    “I don’t remember you saying anything,” said Elaine.
    “It was dark. Face looking in.”
    “Oh.” Elaine sighed. “He’s talking about those ghosts again. All those people he keeps seeing in the room.” She knelt beside Arlo and tucked in his blanket. “You’re just having bad dreams. The fever’s making you see things that aren’t here.”
    “Didn’t imagine him.”
    “No one else sees him. It’s those pain pills. Honey, you’re confused.”
    Again, Arlo tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry and he couldn’t quite manage it. “He was there,” he whispered. “Saw him.”
    “You need to drink some more,” said Maura. She filled a cup and tilted it to his lips. He managed to swallow only a few sips before he started coughing, and the water dribbled down the sides ofhis mouth. Weakly he pushed the cup away and collapsed back with a groan. “Enough.”
    Maura set the cup down and studied him. He had not urinated in hours, and the sound of his breathing had changed. It was coarse and rattling, a sign that he was aspirating fluid into his lungs. If he grew much weaker, it would be dangerous to force him to drink, but the alternative was to let him sink into dehydration and shock. Either way, she thought, we are losing him.
    “Tell me again,” she said.