With snow in the forecast, however vaguely, it was cold, and the heavy cloud cover made it even darker than it usually was at night on any of the mountains surrounding the valley, especially once they were well into the heavy forest. There was no wind at all, and the utter silence was broken only by the faint noises they made in climbing.

Nobody was wasting breath on questions or comments.

Nellie had been far too busy since coming to Salem to have had time to do much hiking, and was wishing she’d done far more when her legs very quickly began to burn from the unaccustomed climbing. But she gritted her teeth and pushed on, all her concentration fixed on keeping hold of the frighteningly faint thread she could almost see glowing in her mind.

Simon.

She turned off the path at almost the same moment as Leo did, dimly aware that he was being guided by her more than by any scent he’d found. She didn’t have to wonder to know that the killer had not taken this route to wherever he had buried Simon. Probably he’d found an easier way, especially if he’d been carrying his victim. They were really climbing now, and she heard Hollis’s breathless voice behind her as she spoke, apparently to her partner.

“Add the occasional . . . mountain hike . . . to our . . . workout schedule . . . okay?”

“Good idea,” he answered, with less effort.

Hollis made a smothered sound that might have been humor or something else, then continued to climb in silence broken only by an occasional curse muttered under her breath.

The climb was far steeper now, and with no path to follow they were picking their way quickly among winter-bare saplings, through underbrush, and around granite boulders, some of them very large. Hardwood trees reared above them, bare limbs occasionally catching the light of one of the flashlights to glitter with frost, and the evergreen pine trees were heavy and still.

They had probably been climbing for half an hour or more when Nellie and her dog abruptly turned to the right, following rather than trying to get past a lateral ridge of boulders and heavy brambles. She followed it, moving faster because they were no longer climbing, until the ridge abruptly ended and there was a small clearing with what appeared to be a tangle of holly bushes at its center.

“Under that,” Nellie said breathlessly, pointing.

Willing hands very quickly pulled at the bushes, to find they were not rooted but had been cut away at some different location and used here as camouflage.

Beneath was a rectangular patch of recently turned earth.

Between the flashlights and the battery lanterns there was plenty of light, but little room for more than four of the strongest among them to begin digging. The others stood back, holding lights and trying to catch their breath from the hurried, difficult journey up the mountain.