“No. Windows were all latched. Either the victims left the door unlocked, or they let the killer in themselves.”

“And this victim’s so surprised that he doesn’t defend himself? Even while his head’s being bashed in?”

“That bothered me, too,” said Dr. Draper. “No obvious defense wounds. He just let the killer in, turned his back, and he got whacked.”

The knock on the door made them all turn. The deputy stuck his head into the cabin. “We just got confirmation on those plates. Car registration matches up with the victim’s ID. Name is John Pomeroy. Plain of Angels, Idaho.”

There was a silence.

“Oh my,” Dr. Draper said. “Those people.”

“What people?” asked Jane.

“They call themselves The Gathering. Some kind of religious commune out in Idaho. Lately they’ve been moving into Sublette County.” The coroner looked at Fahey. “These two must have been headed up to that new settlement.”

“That’s not where they were going,” said the deputy.

Dr. Draper looked at him. “You sound pretty sure of yourself, Deputy Martineau.”

“Because I was up there just last week. The valley’s completely deserted. They’ve all packed up and left for the winter.”

Fahey frowned at the dead man. “Then why were these two people in town?”

“I can tell you they weren’t going to Kingdom Come,” said Deputy Martineau. “That road’s been closed since Saturday. And it won’t be open again till spring.”

HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE. THAT WAS THE MANTRA THAT KEPT going through Maura’s head as she coaxed Arlo to drink water, ever more water. She mixed a pinch of salt and a tablespoon of sugar into every cup-a poor man’s version of Gatorade. By forcing the fluids into him, she’d keep up his blood pressure and flush his kidneys. It meant repeatedly changing his towels as they got saturated with urine, but urine was a good thing. If he stopped producing it, it meant he was going into shock, and he was doomed.

He may be doomed anyway, she thought as she watched him swallow the last two antibiotic capsules. Against the infection now raging in his leg, amoxicillin was little more than a magical charm. Already she could smell the impending gangrene, could see the creeping edge of necrotic tissue in his calf. Another day, perhaps two at the most, and she would be left with no choice, if she wanted to save him.

The leg would have to come off.

Can I really bring myself to do it? To amputate that leg without anesthesia? She was familiar with the anatomy. She could hunt down the necessary instruments from kitchens and garages. All she really needed were sharp knives and a sterilized saw. It was not the mechanics of amputation that made her hands sweat and her stomach clench at the prospect. It was the screaming. She thought of relentlessly sawing through bone while her patient shrieked and writhed. She thought of knives slippery with blood. And through it all, she would have to rely on Elaine and Grace to hold him down.

You have to bring help soon, Doug. Because I don’t think I can do it. I can’t torture this man.

“Hurts so bad,” Arlo whispered. “Need more pills.”

She knelt down beside him. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of Percocet, Arlo,” she said. “But I have Tylenol.”

“Doesn’t help.”

“There’s codeine coming. Elaine’s gone up the road to look for her purse. She says she has a bottle of it, enough to last you until help comes.”

“When?”

“Soon. Maybe even tonight.” She glanced at the window and saw that it was now afternoon. Doug had left yesterday morning. By now, he was surely down the mountain. “You know him. He’ll probably swoop back up here in style, with TV cameras and everything.”

Arlo gave a tired laugh. “Yeah, that’s our Doug. Born under a lucky star. Always manages to skate through life with hardly a scratch, whereas I…” He sighed. “I swear, if I live through this, I’m never going to leave my house again.”

The front door flew open and cold air swept in as Elaine came stomping back into the house. “Where’s Grace?” she said.

“She went outside,” said Maura.

Elaine spotted Grace’s backpack in the corner. She knelt down and unzipped the pack.

“What are you doing, Elaine?”

“I can’t find my purse.”

“You said you left it up in the Jeep.”

“That’s where I thought it was, but Doug said he never saw it. I’ve been looking all up and down the road, in case it got dropped somewhere in the snow.” She began digging through the backpack, scattering the contents on the floor. Out came Grace’s iPod, sunglasses, a sweatshirt, a cell phone. In frustration, she turned the backpack upside down, and loose change clattered onto the floor. “Where the hell is my purse?”

“You really think Grace would take it?”

“I can’t find it anywhere. It had to be her.”

“Why would she?”

“She’s a teenager. Can anyone explain teenagers?”

“Are you sure you didn’t leave it somewhere in the house?”

“I’m sure.” In frustration, Elaine threw down the empty backpack. “I know I had it with me in the Jeep when were driving up the road. But after the accident, we were all panicking. I was just focused on Arlo. The last time I remember seeing it, it was on the backseat, next to Grace.” She scanned the room, searching for any hiding place where the purse might be concealed. “She’s the only one who had the chance to take it. You ran down the hill to get the sled. Doug and I were trying to stop the bleeding. But no one was watching Grace.”

“It could have fallen out of the Jeep.”

“I told you, I looked all up and down the road.”

“Maybe it got buried in the snow.”

“It hasn’t snowed for two days, and everything’s crusted over in ice.” Elaine suddenly jerked straight as the front door opened. She was caught in an unmistakably guilty pose, kneeling beside the empty backpack, the contents strewn on the floor.

“What are you doing?” said Grace. She slammed the door shut. “That’s my stuff.”

“Where’s my purse, Grace?” said Elaine.

“Why are you looking in my backpack?”

“It has my pills. The bottle of codeine. Arlo needs it.”

“And you thought you’d find it in my stuff?”

“Just tell me where it is.”

“How would I know?” Grace snatched up the backpack and began thrusting her belongings back into it. “How do you know she didn’t take it?” The girl didn’t have to name names; they all knew she was referring to Maura.

“Grace, I’m just asking you a simple question.”

“You didn’t even stop to think it could be anyone else. You just assumed it’s me.”

Elaine sighed. “I’m too tired to have this fight. Just tell me if you know where it is.”

“Why should I tell you anything? You wouldn’t believe me anyway.” Grace zipped up the pack and threw it over her shoulder as she headed toward the door. “There are eleven other houses here. I don’t see why I have to stay in this one.”

“Grace, we need to stick together,” said Maura. “I promised your father I’d look after you. Please stay here.”

“Why should I? I came to tell you what I found, and the first thing I hear when I come in the door is, You’re a thief.”

“I didn’t say that!” Elaine protested.

Maura rose and calmly approached the girl. “What did you find, Grace?”

“As if you’re interested.”

“I am. I want to know what you found.”

The girl paused, torn between injured pride and her eagerness to share her news. “It’s outside,” she finally said. “Near the woods.”

Maura pulled on her jacket and gloves and followed Grace outside. The snow, earlier churned up by all their comings and goings, had crusted over into knobby ice, and Maura navigated carefully over the slippery surface as she and Grace circled to the rear of the house and started across the field of snow, toward the trees.

“This is what I saw first,” the girl said, pointing to the snow. “These tracks.”