Tess Gerritsen - Ice Cold

“There,” said Jane.

For a moment, there was silence as everyone focused on the dark-haired woman standing beside the man. There was no doubt about her identity.

It was Maura, and she was smiling.

“That’s your gal, I take it?” asked Queenan.

“Yes,” said Jane softly.

“She doesn’t seem particularly distressed. That looks like a woman who’s headed out to a nice restaurant, wouldn’t you say?”

Jane stared at the image of Maura and the nameless man. Queenan’s right, she thought. Maura looked happy. She could not remember the last time she’d seen such a smile on her friend’s face. Over the past months, Maura had grown wan and increasingly private, as though, by avoiding Jane’s questions, she could also avoid confronting the truth: that love had made her unhappier than ever.

And the reason for that unhappiness now stood beside Jane, staring at the video of that smiling pair. They were a startlingly attractive couple. The man was tall and lean, with boyishly tousled blond hair. Even though it was not a high-resolution image, Jane imagined she could see a twinkle in his eye, and she knew why the clerk would remember this encounter. Whoever the man was, he knew how to attract a woman’s attention.

Abruptly Daniel walked out of the room.

That sudden departure made Queenan stare after him thoughtfully. “Was it something I said?” he asked.

“He’s taking it hard,” said Jane. “We were all hoping for answers.”

“I think this video may be your answer.” Once again, Queenan stood and reached for his jacket. “We’ll continue to field any calls that come in. And hope that your friend decides to surface on her own.”

“I want to know who that man is,” said Jane, pointing to the monitor.

“Good-looking fella. No wonder your friend’s got a big smile on her face.”

“If he’s a hotel guest,” said Gabriel, “we could winnow down the names.”

“We had a full house last week,” the manager said. “We’re talking about two hundred and forty rooms.”

“We eliminate the females. Focus on men who booked singles.”

“It was a medical conference. There were a lot of men who booked singles.”

“Then we’d better get started now, don’t you think?” Gabriel said. “We’ll need names, addresses, phone numbers.”

The manager looked at Queenan. “Don’t these people need a warrant? We’ve got privacy issues here, Detective.”

Jane pointed to Maura’s face on the monitor. “You’ve also got a missing woman who was last seen in this hotel. In the company of one of your guests.”

The manager gave a disbelieving laugh. “It was a bunch of doctors! You really think one of them-”

“If she was abducted,” said Jane, “we have only a short time to work with.” She moved toward the manager, close enough to make him retreat against the doorway. Close enough to see his pupils dilate. “Don’t make us waste a single minute.”

The ringing of Queenan’s cell phone cut the silence. “Detective Queenan,” he answered. “What? Where?”

The tone of his voice made them all turn to watch the conversation. His face was grim as he disconnected.

“What’s going on?” Jane asked. Afraid to hear the answer.

“You folks need to drive down to Sublette County. The Circle B Guest Ranch. It’s not my jurisdiction, so you’ll have to talk to Sheriff Fahey when you get there.”

“Why?”

“They’ve just found two bodies,” said Queenan. “A man and a woman.”

IN ALL HER YEARS AS A HOMICIDE DETECTIVE, JANE RIZZOLI HAD never felt so reluctant to walk into a death scene. She and Gabriel sat in their rental car across from the Circle B Guest Ranch, watching as yet another Sublette County Sheriff’s Department vehicle pulled up, joining the cluster of official cars and trucks parked in front of the guest reception cottage. In the driveway, a woman with a microphone stood talking to a news camera, her blond hair hopelessly tangled in the wind. It looked like the usual scrum of cops and reporters that Jane was accustomed to wading through at every crime scene, but this time she viewed that gantlet with dread. Thank God we convinced Daniel to stay at the hotel. This is not an ordeal he should have to face.

“I can’t imagine Maura ever checking into a place like this,” said Gabriel.

Jane stared across the road at the sign advertising SUPER SAVER WEEKLY AND MONTHLY RATES AVAILABLE! INQUIRE INSIDE! There was desperation in that sign, a last-ditch appeal to stay in business. No, she could not imagine Maura checking into one of those tired-looking cabins.

Gabriel took her arm as they crossed the icy road. He seemed eerily calm, and that was exactly what she needed from him at this moment. This was the Gabriel she’d met two summers ago, when they’d worked their first homicide together, a man whose cool efficiency had made him seem remote and heartless. It was merely the persona he adopted when situations turned grim. She glanced up at her husband, and his resoluteness steadied her own nerves.

They approached a sheriff’s deputy, who stood arguing with a young woman.

“I need to talk with Fahey,” the woman insisted. “We need more information or we can’t do our jobs.”

“Sheriff’s kind of busy right now, Cathy.”

“We’re responsible for her welfare. At least tell me their names. Who’s the next of kin?”

“You’ll know when we know.”

“The couple’s from Plain of Angels, aren’t they?”

The deputy frowned at her. “How’d you hear that?”

“I keep track of those people. I make it my business to know when they show up in town.”

“Maybe you should mind your own business for a change and leave those folks alone.”

She snorted. “Maybe you should try doing your job, Bobby. At least pretend to follow up on my complaints.”

“Leave. Now.”

“You tell Sheriff Fahey I’ll be calling him.” The woman huffed out a breath so fierce that steam clouded her face as she spun around. She halted in surprise to find Jane and Gabriel standing right behind her. “Hope you have better luck with these people,” she muttered, and stalked off down the driveway.

“Was that a reporter?” Gabriel asked, with the sympathy of a fellow lawman.

“Naw, county social worker. Those bleeding hearts are a real pain in the ass.” The deputy looked Gabriel up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Sheriff Fahey is expecting us. Detective Queenan called to let him know we were coming.”

“You the folks from Boston?”

“Yes, sir. Agent Dean and Detective Rizzoli.” Gabriel struck just the right note of respect to emphasize that he knew whose jurisdiction they were in. And who was in charge.

The deputy, who looked no older than his midtwenties, was young enough to be flattered by Gabriel’s approach. “Come with me, sir. Ma’am.”

They followed him to the Circle B check-in cottage. Inside, a wood fire crackled in the hearth, and low pine beams overhead made the space feel as claustrophobic as a dark cave. The cold wind outside had numbed Jane’s face, and she stood near the fire as the heat slowly brought sensation back to her cheeks. The room was a time capsule from the 1960s, the wall adorned with bullwhips and spurs and muddy-colored paintings of cowboys. She heard voices talking in the back room-two men, she thought, until she peered through the doorway and saw that one of them was a blond woman with weather-beaten skin and a smoker’s hacking cough.

“… never did lay eyes on the wife,” the woman said. “He’s the one who checked in.”

“Why didn’t you ask for his ID?”

“He paid cash and signed in. This ain’t Russia, you know. Last I checked, folks are free to come and go in this country. Besides, he looked like good people.”