Rizzoli & Isles 8-Book Set

they move into Kingdom Come, the new settlement that The Gathering is building here in Wyoming. A few months later, Absolem dies, and Sharon’s the only adult left in Julian’s life.” Cathy’s voice took on a razor-sharp edge. “And she betrays him.”
    “She threw him out?”
    “Like a piece of trash. Because the Prophet demanded it.”
    The two women stared at each other, a gaze of shared rage that was broken only when the waitress returned with the coffeepot. In silence they both sipped, and the hot brew only worsened the angry burn in Jane’s stomach.
    “So why isn’t Jeremiah Goode in jail?” Jane asked.
    “You think I haven’t tried? You saw how they reacted to me at that meeting. I’m just the town scold, the annoying feminist who won’t stop talking about abused girls. And they don’t want to listen anymore.” She paused. “Or they’re getting paid not to listen.”
    “Jeremiah’s bought them off?”
    “That’s how it worked in Idaho. Cops, judges. The Gathering has loads of cash to buy them all. His settlements are cut off from outside communication—no phones, no radios. Even if a girl wanted to call for help, she wouldn’t be able to.” Cathy set down her coffee cup. “There’s nothing I want more than to see him, and the men who follow him, in shackles. But I don’t think it’s ever going to happen.”
    “Does Julian Perkins feel the same way?”
    “He hates them all. He told me so.”
    “Enough to kill?”
    Cathy frowned. “What do you mean?”
    “You were at the double homicide at the Circle B lodge. That dead couple belonged to The Gathering.”
    “You aren’t thinking Julian did it.”
    “Maybe that’s why he went on the run. Why he had to kill the deputy.”
    Cathy gave a vehement shake of the head. “I’ve spent time with that boy. He hangs out with this stray dog, and you’ve never seen anyone so gentle with an animal. He doesn’t have violence in him.”
    “I think we all have it in us,” said Jane quietly. “If we’re pushed hard enough.”
    “Well, if he did do it,” Cathy said, “he had justice on his side.”

T HE SNOW CAVE WAS RIPE WITH THE ODOR OF WET DOG AND mildewed clothes and the sweat of two filthy bodies. Maura had not bathed in weeks, and the boy had probably gone far longer. But the shelter was cozy as a wolf den, just large enough for them to stretch out on the pine-branch floor, and the fire that Rat built was now bright and crackling. In the light from the flames, Maura surveyed her down jacket, once white, but now soiled with soot and blood. She imagined the horror that would greet her in a mirror. I’m turning into a wild animal, like these two, she thought. An animal hiding in a cave. She remembered accounts that she’d read of children raised by wolves. Brought back to civilization, they remained feral and impossible to tame. Now she could feel her own transformation beginning. Sleeping and eating on hard ground, living for days in the same clothes, curling up every night beside Bear’s furry warmth. Soon no one would recognize her.
    I might not recognize myself
.
    Rat threw a bundle of twigs into the fire. Smoke swirled in the snow cave, stinging their eyes and throat. Without this boy, I would not survive one night out here, she thought. I would already be dead and frozen, my body vanishing under the blowing snow. But the wilderness was a world Rat seemed to feel comfortable in. Within an hour, he had dug out this cave, choosing a spot on the lee side of a hill and tunneling upward to hollow out the cavity. Together they’d gathered firewood and pine boughs, racing the darkness and the killing chill of night.
    Now, huddled in surprising comfort beside the fire, she listened to the wind moan outside their pine-branch door, and watched him root around in his backpack. Out came powdered dairy creamer and a box of dried dog kibble. He shook out a handful of kibble and tossed it to Bear. Then he held out the box to Maura.
    “Dog food?” she asked.
    “It’s good enough for him.” Rat nodded at the dog, who was happily devouring his meal. “Better than an empty stomach.”
    But not by much, she thought as she bit resignedly into a chunk. For a moment, the only sound in the cave was three pairs of jaws crunching away. She stared across the guttering flames at the boy.
    “We have to find a way to surrender,” she said.
    He kept chewing, his attention ferociously focused on filling his belly.
    “Rat, you know as well as