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The sheriff returned with three stacked boxes and put them on the counter. “I think that’s all of it,” he said. He pointed at Holmes and Poe. “Keep me in the loop.”

“Absolutely,” said Holmes with a straight face. How many times had he made that promise, with no intention of keeping it?

As Gregson started his car and pulled away, Marple arranged her purchases. A heavy-duty mixer. An immersion blender. A new set of sheet pans. A sous vide kit for vacuum cooking. Assorted gadgets and utensils.

“What’s all this, Margaret?” asked Poe. “Are you opening a restaurant?”

Marple shook her head. “Too risky. But you never know. Maybe I’ll go work in one.” She paused. “Of course, I’d have to quit the firm first.”

She looked right at Holmes as she said it.

CHAPTER 23

A QUARTER MILE away, in the snowy woods behind the lodge, Helene Grey was lumbering along a narrow trail, walking stick in her right gloved hand. She worried that she’d ventured too far this time. She huffed and puffed with every step. Christ! Would she even be able to make it back?

“You’re doing great, Detective!” Virginia, her walking companion and cheerleader, came up beside her. “And you really need the exercise.” Baskerville bounded ahead of them, widening the path with his massive paws.

“I keep telling you, I’m not a forest creature,” said Grey, her words coming in short bursts. “If I was back in the city, I could walk a block, rest on a bench, pop into a Starbucks…”

“Right,” said Virginia. “And you’d be breathing toxic exhaust, stepping over garbage, and dodging delivery bikes. Trust me, the twins will thank you for this.”

Grey shuffled forward a few more steps, then arched her back as a sharp pain shot down her right leg. “Hold up,” she groaned. “I need to stop for a minute.”

Virginia led her off the trail to a fallen tree, lodged at a slight angle a few feet from the ground. Grey brushed snow from the bark and then turned and eased her butt down. She rested her walking stick against the log and leaned back, taking a deep breath. The pain in her leg eased slightly.

“Keep breathing,” said Virginia. “Let your chest expand.”

“It’s already expanded,” said Grey. “Along with everything else.”

Grey had to admit that the fresh air felt good. And maybe the walking would hurry the pregnancy along. She was just about done with carrying all this extra weight. She was tired of the breathlessness, the constipation, the nausea. She wanted these babies out.

“How are things with Mr. Poe these days?” asked Virginia.

It was an impertinent question. Virginia was just an assistant. She had no right to pry into Grey’s private life. But truthfully, Grey didn’t mind. She was used to Virginia pushing boundaries, and she was an easy person to talk to. A lot easier than Poe.

“I think he’s still worried that he’s not father material,” said Grey. “Whenever I bring up cribs or baby supplies, he changes the subject, like it’s not really going to happen. Or like Mary Poppins will suddenly float in to help.”

“I think a lot of men are in denial for the whole nine months,” said Virginia. “I mean, a woman’s body and mind adjust, right? We’ve got no choice. Maybe he just can’t wrap his head around how much this is about to change his life.” Virginia put her hand on Grey’s arm. “Give him a chance, Detective.”

“To be honest,” said Grey, “I think he’s more interested in cars than kids.” She didn’t mention that she thought Poe might still be in love with a woman from his past. Or maybe even infatuated with the pretty mechanical wizard standing beside her.

Baskerville was back from his latest excursion, panting and waving his tail. He jumped up and planted his snowy front paws on Virginia’s leg. “Mr. Poe will come around,” said Virginia. “I’m sure of it.”

Suddenly Grey saw Virginia’s head whip to the left. Baskerville started growling.

As Grey turned, a figure emerged from behind a tree. Heavy overcoat. Hooded eyes. Hands tucked into his pockets.

“Hello, Helene. It’s been a while.”

Virginia gripped Baskerville’s collar as he strained toward the intruder. “Stop right there!” Virginia shouted. “Show me your hands or I’ll turn the dog loose.”

Helene Grey pushed off from the log and grabbed Virginia’s arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s an old friend.”

CHAPTER 24

THE MAN APPROACHED slowly, hands raised, eyes on Baskerville. “Is that a dog or a horse?”

“He’s a mastiff,” said Virginia, “with six hundred pounds of bite force.”