Sean came dashing into the living room, Sherlock racing to catch him. Sean shouted, “Papa, I bet Marty my next allowance the Patriots are going to win the Super Bowl!”

There were some boos, some laughter, some “Hey, Sean, how’s it going?” To which his boy grinned and waved wildly at all the faces displayed on MAX’s monitor.

After Savich gave out assignments, Mr. Maitland ended the conference call and everyone went to catch the rest of the play-off game. Savich shut MAX down. Sherlock went to the kitchen to make Sean hot chocolate. Savich and Sean walked to the front window and looked out at the deserted street blanketed deep with snow. Savich could barely make out Mr. MacPherson’s house across the street through a veil of soft fluid white snow, with no end in sight for the moment. No way would he make his Porsche dig its way through that mess tomorrow morning. It would have to be Sherlock’s stalwart Volvo to make the trip to the Cronins’ and to Marian Lodge. He said to his son, “Hey, kiddo, you’re going to hang out with your Aunt Lilly and Uncle Simon tomorrow while your mama and I take a field trip.”

“Aunt Lilly’s going to have a baby,” Sean said, and he didn’t sound very happy about it, because Lilly’s and Simon’s attention wouldn’t be focused on their one and only precious nephew.

“These things happen, Sean,” Savich said, and he lifted Sean in his arms and hugged him. “Sometimes you’ve got to suck it up.”

“Marty’s mom is really fat now. Marty says she’s going to have a little brother in March, and I should want a sister so I’d be balanced out like her. I told her I didn’t want to be balanced. I told her I like being the only kid here.”

Now, that, Savich thought, was something to think about.

Henderson County Hospital

Early Saturday evening

“I got here as soon as I could,” Sheriff Dix Noble said, shaking off his leather coat as he came into Delsey’s room. “Ms. Freestone, you’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.” He studied her face for a moment. “I’m Sheriff Noble.”

She smiled up at the hard-faced man with heart-melting dark eyes. “Everyone in town knows who you are, Sheriff Noble. I met your wife, Ruth, today as well. You’re kind of local heroes.”

Dix waved that off. “Griffin said you remembered what you saw in your bathtub?”

“Yes, it was a dead man. I lost it and screamed my head off. Then something hard hit my head.”

“Did you see who hit you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t remember. Sorry.”

“Are you quite sure the man in the bathtub was dead?”

Delsey shuddered. “Oh, yes, his eyes were staring straight up, and there was blood all over his chest.”

“Had you ever seen him before?”

“Yes, but I don’t know who he was. I saw him around town during the past week or so. Once on the Stanislaus campus, maybe three or four more times here in Maestro.”

“Where?”

“On the sidewalk once near the Holcombe Bank, and a couple of times at Maurie’s Diner, sitting in the back, where you’d walk past him to get to the restrooms. He always smiled at me and nodded; once he even asked me how I was doing and we chatted for a few minutes. He seemed like a nice man. No, he never came on to me, nothing like that, and we never really visited, if you know what I mean.”

Griffin asked, “Did you see him speaking to anyone in particular?”

“No, not really. He seemed quiet, like he was marking time, maybe waiting for someone, but he was always alone. He spoke to Anna, of course, since she was his waitress. I heard her laugh once, I guess at something he said to her.”

Dix said, “Did you ever think he was ‘off’ somehow? Maybe paying too much attention to you, watching you?”

Delsey shook her head. “I didn’t get any vibe like that. He never told me what his name was or why he was here, but I did wonder what he was doing on campus that time I saw him going into the administration building.”

“We don’t have a police artist on staff,” Dix said, “but we do have Miss Mavis. She’ll do a sketch with you, and then we can show his photo around town, find out where he was staying, who he was and what he was doing here. It’s only logical, Ms. Freestone, that he has to be somehow connected to you, or else why would his body have been in your bathtub?”

Delsey shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sheriff, I can’t think of any connection between us other than those few times I saw him. Maybe if you can tell me who he was I can make some sense of it.” Her breathing hitched. She again felt the punch of shock at seeing him lying there when she’d whipped back the shower curtain, and the terror that had screams ripping out of her throat. Griffin took her hand. “It’s okay, Delsey, now it’s okay.”