Rizzoli & Isles 8-Book Set

Cathy. On the raw, wind-chapped hands now clutching the gun. Though any cop in that room could have fired on her, no one did. They all stood paralyzed by the prospect of taking down this young woman.
We never imagined she’d be armed. Why would we?
    “Cathy, please,” Jane said quietly. She was standing closest to the woman. Almost close enough to reach out and take the gun, if only Cathy would hand it to her. “This doesn’t solve anything.”
    “But it does. This ends it.”
    “That’s what the courts are for.”
    “The
courts
?” Cathy’s laugh was bitter. “They won’t touch him. They never have.” Her grip tightened, and the barrel tilted higher, yet Jeremiah did not flinch. His gaze remained serene, almost amused.
    “You see, my friends?” he called out. “This is what we face. Irrational anger and hatred.” He gave a sad shake of the head and looked at Cathy. “I think it’s clear to everyone here that you need help, Katie. I feel only love for you. That’s all I’ve ever felt.” Once again, he turned to leave.
    “Love?” Cathy whispered.
“Love?”
    Jane saw the tendons in Cathy’s wrist snap taut. Saw the woman’s fingers tighten, yet her own reflexes refused to kick in. Her hands froze around her weapon.
    The blast of Cathy’s gun sent a bullet flying into Jeremiah’s back. He lurched forward and stumbled to his knees.
    The room exploded in gunfire. Cathy’s body jerked and twitched as a hail of police bullets punched into her flesh. Her weapon thudded to the floor and she went sprawling. She landed facedown beside the body of Jeremiah Goode.
    “Cease fire!” shouted MacAfee.
    There were two final, stuttering shots, and then silence fell.
    Jane dropped to her knees beside Cathy. From the congregation came a woman’s wail, a high and eerie keening that did not even sound human. Now others joined in, a chorus of shrieks that soon became deafening as hundreds of voices cried out in grief for their fallen prophet. No one mourned Cathy Weiss. No one called out her name. Only Jane, kneeling on the bloody floor, was leaning in close enough to stare into the woman’s eyes. Only Jane saw the light in those eyes fade out as her soul tumbled away.
    “Murderer!” someone screamed. “She’s a Judas!”
    Jane looked at the body of Jeremiah Goode. Even in death, he was smiling.

H ER BIRTH NAME WAS KATIE SHELDON,” SAID JANE, AS SHE AND Maura drove toward Jackson. “At age thirteen, she became one of Jeremiah’s so-called spiritual brides, expected to submit herself completely to his desires. For six years, she belonged to him. But somehow, she managed to pull together the courage to escape. And she fled The Gathering.”
    “That’s when she changed her name?” asked Maura.
    Jane nodded, but kept her eyes on her driving. “She became Catherine Sheldon Weiss. And she devoted her life to bringing down Jeremiah. The problem is, no one was listening to her. She was just a voice in the wilderness.”
    Maura stared ahead at what was now a familiar road, one she’d traveled every day to visit Rat at the hospital. This would be her last visit. Tomorrow, she was flying home to Boston, and she dreaded this goodbye. Dreaded it because she still did not know what kind of future she could offer him, what promises she could realisticallykeep. Little Katie Sheldon had been deeply poisoned by The Gathering; was Rat similarly damaged? Did Maura really want to take such a scarred creature into her home?
    “At least this answers a few questions,” said Jane.
    Maura looked at her. “What questions?”
    “About the double homicide at the Circle B Guest Ranch. The couple killed in their motel cabin. There was no forced entry. The killer simply walked in and proceeded to bash the husband’s head, completely obliterating his face.”
    “A rage killing.”
    Jane nodded. “They found the murder weapon in Cathy’s garage. A hammer.”
    “So there’s no doubt she did it.”
    “It also explains another thing that puzzled me about that crime scene,” said Jane. “There was a baby left alive in the crib. Not only was she unharmed, there were four empty bottles in the crib with her. The killer wanted that baby to survive. Even removed the DO NOT DISTURB sign, so housekeeping would be sure to come in and find the bodies.” She glanced at Maura. “Sounds like someone who cares about kids, doesn’t it?”
    “A social worker.”
    “Cathy kept constant tabs on The Gathering. She knew when any