He started to walk in that direction, and Mikhail stepped into his path. “I’m sorry you came out here for nothing, Sheriff,” he said with smooth grace, “But Baba . . . er . . . Barbara isn’t here now. She stepped out for a bit of fresh air. No telling when she’ll be back, I’m afraid.” He put one muscular arm around Liam’s shoulder and started to usher him back toward the door.
Liam ducked around him and placed both his packages on the countertop. “Really? She went for a walk at ten o’clock at night. After a big storm? That seems a little strange.” An eyebrow emphasized his skepticism.
Gregori lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You know our Barbara,” he said, his lilting accent more noticeable than Mikhail’s, who sounded as if he had practiced hard to remove it. “She is rarely predictable.”
“I doubt I know her at all,” Liam muttered. “But yes, she is that.” He faked a bright smile as he looked around at the three men. “Not to worry—I brought pie from Bertie’s and a little something for Chudo-Yudo. Is he here, or out walking too?”
Alexei perked up. “What kind of pie?” he asked, sitting up straight. Mikhail scowled at him, but the big man just grinned. “What? I can’t help it, I love pie.”
“Chocolate pecan pie,” Liam said, opening the box and pulling it out so they could see the glistening mound of whipped cream on top. “If it’s not the best thing you ever tasted, I’ll eat my sheriff’s hat.” Which he laid on the counter next to the pie, in case they hadn’t figured out yet that he wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon.
A large head nudged the top of his thigh, and he looked down to see Chudo-Yudo, mouth gaping in what Liam hoped was benign curiosity.
“There you are,” he said, pulling his secret weapon out of the bag he’d carried it in. “I told Bertie about you, so she gave me this.”
“This” was a huge bone from that night’s roast, with large meaty shreds still clinging to it. Chudo-Yudo’s eyes widened and he stood up on his hind legs, almost knocking Liam down as he bestowed a wet doggy tongue wipe on the sheriff’s face before grabbing the bone and wandering off to sit in a corner, gnawing on it. A rumble almost like a purr emanated from his broad white chest.
Mikhail looked from the dog to Alexei, who was hovering over the pie, sniffing hopefully. One suspiciously finger-shaped section of whipped cream was missing, and the big man was making a noise not unlike that coming from Chudo-Yudo.
The blond man’s mouth curved into a reluctant grin. “You seem to have solved the riddle that gets you past the door keepers,” he said, shaking his head. “I suppose you might as well stay, although Baba could be gone a long time.”
“I’m in no hurry,” Liam said cheerfully. He moved over toward the coffeemaker sitting on the counter. “Why don’t I make us some coffee to go with our pie? I’m sure Barbara wouldn’t mind.”
He reached one hand out toward the container marked Coffee that sat on the counter, but a slim beige hand already rested on it. Liam blinked. He hadn’t even seen the other man move, but somehow Gregori had gotten there before him.
“Why don’t you allow me to make the coffee,” Gregori said easily, edging into Liam’s personal space so he was forced to move out of the way. “This coffeemaker is a little . . . temperamental . . . best to let me do it.”
“Uh, okay,” Liam said. “Point me to the cupboard where she keeps the plates, and I’ll slice us each a piece of pie.”
He turned around, and Alexei already had a huge chunk lying in the middle of one equally large hand and was eating it with his fingers.
“I’m good, thanks,” the big man said around a mouthful of chocolate and nuts. Whipped cream fringed the edges of his mustache like ice on a pond.
Mikhail handed over plates and forks for the rest of them with a dramatic eye roll. “Just ignore our ill-mannered friend,” he said. “He was raised by wolves.”
Chudo-Yudo raised his head and barked.
“Good point,” Mikhail responded. “I didn’t mean to insult the wolves. They actually have much better etiquette than Alexei.”
Liam looked from the man to the dog and back again. “You know, Barbara does that too. Talks like she is actually carrying on a conversation with the animal.”
“Does she?” Mikhail drawled, eyes a deep, guileless blue. “Fancy that.”
Liam took his pie and slid into the banquette table, with Mikhail across from him. Gregori brought over a steaming cup of coffee and placed it in front of the sheriff, then stood next to Alexei at the counter to eat his own piece with considerably more dignity.
Liam lifted his mug, a heavy pottery creation decorated in shades of deep purple and carved with symbols he didn’t recognize, and took a deep sniff. “Hey, does anyone else smell roses?” he asked.