Tess Gerritsen - Ice Cold

As they journeyed west, Cathy predicted what they would face at Plain of Angels. “The women won’t talk to you. Nor will the children. They’ve been conditioned to be silent around outsiders. So don’t expect cooperation from any of them, even when you get them away from the compound.”

“What about the men?”

“They’ll have designated spokesmen, handpicked by Jeremiah to deal with the outside world. In return for their loyalty, they enjoy special privileges in the cult.”

“Privileges?”

“Girls, Detective. The more trusted you are, the more young brides you get as your reward.”

“Jesus.”

“All cults work in similar ways. It’s a system of reward and punishment. Make the Prophet happy, and he’ll let you take another new wife. Piss him off, and you’re banished from the sect. These spokesmen are men he trusts, and they’re not stupid. They know the law, and they’ll try to snow you with legalese. They’ll hold us at the gate forever while they examine the warrant with a fine-tooth comb.”

“Will they be armed?”

“Yes.”

“And probably dangerous,” Jane muttered in the backseat.

Cathy turned to look at her. “When they’re facing years in prison for raping underage girls? Yeah, I’d say that makes them dangerous. So I hope you’re all prepared.”

“How big a team is moving in?” asked Jane.

Pasternak said, “Idaho’s pulling in law enforcement from multiple jurisdictions, both state and federal. The team lead is Lieutenant David MacAfee, with the Idaho State Police. He guarantees there will be a massive show of force.”

Cathy released a deep sigh. “Finally, it’s going to end,” she whispered.

“Sounds like you’ve been waiting for this a long time,” observed Pasternak.

“Yes,” Cathy said. “A very long time. I’m just glad I’ll be there to see it happen.”

“You do know, Ms. Weiss, that you’re not to take an active role in this operation. I don’t want you in danger.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jane. “And it might be better if you remain an observer as well.”

“But I’m law enforcement,” said Jane.

“From Boston.”

“I was working this case before you stepped in.”

“Don’t get all women’s libber on me. I’m just saying this is Idaho ’s show. You’ve been invited to advise and assist where necessary. If they want to keep you on the sidelines, that’s their decision. That’s just the way it works, Rizzoli.”

Jane sank back against the seat. “Okay. But just to let you know, I am carrying.”

“Then keep it holstered. If this is handled right, there’ll be no need for weapons. Our objective is to move the women and children into protective custody, and do it with a minimum of force.”

“Wait. What about Jeremiah?” said Cathy. “If you find him, you are arresting him, aren’t you?”

“At this point, it’s just for questioning.”

“Forty-one dead followers isn’t enough to charge him?”

“We haven’t proven that he’s responsible for those deaths.”

“Who else would be?”

“We need more than that. We need witnesses, someone who’ll step forward and talk to us.” He glanced at Cathy. “That’s what I need you to do. Talk to those women. Convince them to cooperate.”

“That won’t be easy.”

“Help them understand that they’re victims.”

“Remember Charles Manson’s women? Even after years in prison, they were still Charlie’s girls, still under his spell. You can’t deprogram in a few days what’s been pounded into your head for years. And if they insist on going back to the compound, you can’t hold them indefinitely.”

“Then do it another way,” said Jane. “DNA tests on the babies. Find out which men are the fathers. Find out if the mothers were underage when they gave birth.”

“That’s like cutting the branches to kill a tree,” said Cathy. “There’s only one way to bring it crashing down. You have to destroy the root.”

“Jeremiah,” said Pasternak.

Cathy nodded. “Lock him up and throw away the key. Without the Prophet, the cult implodes. Because Jeremiah Goode is The Gathering.”

CLOAKED BY A VEIL OF FALLING SNOW, THE ARMY STOOD ASSEMBLED. Jane stamped her feet, trying to stay warm, but already her toes had gone numb and even the scalding cup of coffee she’d just gulped down could not ward off the bitter chill of that Idaho dawn. If she were a member of the strike team, the cold would not matter to her, because adrenaline made you immune to discomforts as minor as subzero temperatures. But on this morning, relegated to the status of mere observer and forced to stand idly by, she felt the chill gnaw deep into her bones. Cathy, standing beside her, seemed not to care at all about the weather. The woman was utterly still, her face heedlessly exposed to the wind. Jane heard the rising pitch in the voices around her, could feel the tension in the air, and she knew that action was imminent.

Pasternak came striding back from the huddle of command officers. He was carrying a two-way radio. “We’re ready to move, as soon as they pull the gate down.” He handed Jane the radio. “You stay with Cathy. We’ll need her advice once we get in there, and you’re her escort. So keep her safe.”

As Jane clipped it to her belt, an alert came over the speaker.

“We have activity inside the compound. Looks like two men approaching.”

Through the falling snow, Jane saw the figures walking closer, identically dressed in long black coats. They moved without hesitation, striding directly toward the lawmen. To Jane’s surprise, one of the men produced a set of keys and unlocked the gate.

The law enforcement team leader stepped forward. “I’m Lieutenant MacAfee, Idaho State Police. We have a warrant to search the compound.”

“There’s no need for a warrant,” the man with the keys answered. “You are welcome to enter. All of you.” He swung the gate wide open.

MacAfee glanced at the other officers, clearly taken aback by the welcome.

The greeter beckoned the visitors forward. “We’ve gathered in the assembly hall, where there’s room for everyone. We ask only that you keep your weapons holstered, for the safety of our women and children.” He opened his arms wide, as though inviting in the whole world. “Please join us. You’ll see that we have nothing to hide.”

“They knew,” Cathy muttered. “Goddamn it, they knew we were coming. They’re prepared for this.”

“How did they get word of it?” Jane asked.

“He can buy anything. Eyes, ears. A cop here, a politician there.” She looked at Jane. “You see what the problem is? You see why he’ll never have to face justice?”

“No man’s untouchable, Cathy.”

“He is. He always has been.” Cathy’s gaze returned to the open gate. The law enforcement team had already walked into the compound, their figures fading beyond the falling snow. Over the radio, Jane listened in on the chatter. Heard calm voices, matter-of-fact responses.

“First building checked and clear…”

“All clear in number three.”

Cathy shook her head. “He’ll outsmart them this time as well,” she said. “They don’t know what to look for. They can’t see what’s right in front of their goddamn eyes.”

“No weapons. All clear…”

Cathy stared at the distant figures, now receding to little more than ghostly shapes. Without a word, she, too, walked through the open gate.

Jane followed her.

They moved between rows of buildings that stood silent and dark, following in the boot prints of the police team. Ahead, Jane saw candlelight glowing warmly in the assembly hall windows, and she heard music, the sound of many voices raised in song. It was a sweet and ethereal hymn that soared heavenward on notes sung by children. The scent of wood smoke, the promise of warmth and fellowship, beckoned them toward the building.