Chapter Seven

Logan giving up the attempt to find any clues, headed back to the car with Roisin; neither spoke until they reached the car. Roisin's was parked behind them.

The blonde bid a quick goodnight and warned Logan to go home, or at least not go back to the crime scene, and was on her way.

Logan watched her leave.

"Hey, get your butt in the car!" Liam yelled, finally having the courage to open the car window.

Once inside the car, Logan turned to find Liam slouched down in the driver's seat, his coat lapels pulled up around his head visibly shaking his shoulders, hitting the back of the car seat as his teeth chattered.

"Brilliant, who knew I was working with Shaggy, such a shame we have no Scooby to keep you company." Logan sighed, rolling her eyes. "Tonight was a bust, the only thing I learned was Lord Snooty, and his slutty wife hasn't informed the police."

"What's your beef with the rich, Logan?" Liam asked, finally braving sitting up now Logan had returned; he'd been busy staring at his chin in the rearview mirror when a shadow had moved somewhere behind him.

It had been Roisin, but his heart hadn't begun beating regularly since. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he had been so scared he'd lowered himself down below the window in the hope of whoever it was passing by wouldn't there was anyone inside. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and Liam had taken a quick peek out the window to see Roisin's face looking inside. He knew it wasn't manly to scream, but what else was there to do at that moment?

"I just don't like them okay, prancing around with big massive bank accounts earning more money than they can ever spend in a lifetime while looking down their noses at the rest of us." Logan shivered; just the thought of it was too much.

"Maybe they work hard." Liam shrugged, his breathing still not back to normal.

"Work hard, my ass, they get rich on the backs of the poor, then they pay a bunch of politicians to do their bidding, who give us the illusion we vote for them. Such a capitalist society where they don't quite see the moment the great unwashed get worn out the wealthy will have to work cause they'd have exhausted their moneymakers."

"Can we please skip the lecture about socialism and all of that boring, tedious crap?" Liam rolled his eyes, he knew what was coming, and Logan would not go easy on him, especially when she had her back up. "I want to go home, I need to talk to Amelia after this."

"Sheep, and you have to catch Amelia at this time because she is awake now because it is the day time where she lives." Logan sarcastically replied, rolling her green eyes. "I did warn you about dating outside of your own time zone."

"You can't help who you fall in love with." Liam defended himself. "And it is evening where she is not daytime, thank you very much she is seven hours behind us, and don't give me advice on my love life until you have sorted out your own."

"I believe I'm winning in that area. Thank you very much, Liam, or did you forget the happy event in my office." Logan smirked.

Liam rolled his eyes; it was so strange his best friend had turned into a stereotype playboy; she'd once been married and happily so. For two years, Liam had watched with envious eyes as his friend enjoyed a healthy marriage, and then it had all fallen down around him, puzzling him to this day.

"Get driving, we need to sleep in a few hours. We will visit the weeping widow, something tells me she isn't so smiley now." Logan said.

Liam's eyes widened; he'd told her that this idiotic escapade was unnecessary and that sleep was necessary, although he ignored the fact that he wouldn't be sleeping instead of messaging Amelia ignoring his yawns and grinning ear to ear. "What did I say?"

"Get driving Goldilocks, or the three bears will eat you." Logan laughed.

XXX

Logan guiltily looked down at her feet, she should have anticipated this from the germ-phobic woman, but she hadn't; shaking her head, Logan kicked off her left boot with her right foot and then proceeded to do the same with the other.

Liam glared down at his friend's feet, shaking his head, and his eyes closed. "Why?"

Logan shrugged her shoulders and wiggled her toes; on the bare white socks, a big hole made her big toe stand out. A large hole was cut out of her heel on the other foot, and small holes dotted over her foot.

"They look like they've been attacked by a rabid gang of moths." Liam sighed.

"Easy on the sock Nazim, Liam." Logan chastised. "What are yours?"

Liam's cheeks reddened. The socks he wore were the ones that Amelia had bought him for his last birthday; he wore them often because it made him feel closer to her when he couldn't speak with her.

Logan buried her head in her hands when she saw what socks Liam wore, sky blue with a big smiling and dancing snowman on each one. This was so much worse than she had anticipated it to be. "Oh boy, what are you wearing, and how can you judge me."

"Mine has no holes, and Amelia got them for me." Liam proudly proclaimed. "It's love."

Logan winced. "Dump her now, those are a hate crime."

"And yours looks like swiss cheese," Liam replied smugly just as Mrs. Smiley entered the hallway, her eyes traveling down to the feet of her two visitors.

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Smiley said, shrinking back a little.

Liam looked up and at his friend. "See, that's you."

"That's you, you mean." Logan pointed at her friend's loud socks. "Mrs. Smiley, I am very sorry about what happened to your husband."

The woman nodded, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "Thank you, it has been a shock. The police say they have no clues at this moment."

"It is very early," Logan replied, hoping it would help the woman not despair too much.

The widow pulled out a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed it over her dry eyes, "I didn't expect this."

A dull thump sounded out from upstairs; everyone's eyes moved towards it as the silence stretched out around them.

Logan and Liam finally turned to the newly made widow, their eyes expecting an explanation.

"We have a cat." Mrs. Smiley said. "He's rather mischievous. I'm afraid Larry loved him though little Lambkins will be lost without him."

Logan's brows furrowed in contemplation as Liam closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle. "Don't say it." He whispered through gritted teeth. "Don't do it."

"Your husband was called Larry, and you called your cat Lambkin? So...Larry the Lamb." Logan rushed out the pressure of keeping it all in had become too much; she needed to get it out and now.

Liam rolled his brown eyes; why did Logan have to be such a smartass? And now of all times. "My colleague is speaking out of turn; she often ends up with her foot in her mouth or mine," Liam said, turning to his oldest friend, flashing her a warning.

"That is okay, please do come and sit down. I've put the coffee maker on." Mrs. Smiley said as she ushered the two PIs into the living room.

Logan was struck by how clean and spacious everything was; the room was white from the walls to the fluffy white carpet on the floor,

A television hung on the wall, a dust sheet carefully dangled over the screen. Few pictures hung on the walls and the sides of the room; there was no warmth found in any corner of the room that would indicate a family lived there. It was cold and clinical.

Logan frowned in confusion; it was the complete opposite of her home, a total mess. Something told her the woman would have a breakdown if she were to ever visit.

"Well, sit down," Logan whispered to Liam as he stood in the doorway, his eyes indecisively wandering to a white couch and a white armchair covered in plastic wrap.

"Err. I don't know what to do." Liam confessed hesitantly.

Logan looked at the places to sit, and she understood her friend's predicament. It was not very inviting and friendly. "Just sit on the couch, fuck knows last time I saw something like this was during a murder scene."

"Lovely," Liam muttered under his breath, hesitantly sitting down as Logan soon followed. "You really know how to lighten the mood."

"Happy to help you." Logan grinned.

The older woman soon returned carrying a tray with coffee cups and milk on it; she placed it on the coffee table as she sat down in the armchair and set about taking their perfect coffee orders and delivering it to Logan and Liam.

"No cookies?" Logan queried as his eyes landed on the tray that was empty of any kind of food. His stomach gave a little moan of despair.

"Afraid not, We've run out." Mrs. Smiley replied.

"Mrs. Smiley, now your husband is no longer with us; it seems rather redundant that we keep searching for who this other woman was," Logan said after taking a sip of her black coffee.

Mrs. Smiley nodded. "He and I met when we were so very young, I thought we'd be together forever."

Then someone put a bullet in him, and that put pay to that ambition. Logan nodded; she understood the intentions of forever love. To pledge a lifetime of love and fidelity and mean it, but sometimes life got in the way and changed people.

It had changed Logan.

Had anyone in her family stuck by any promise they'd ever given? Logan had thought her parents were the exception, then she'd discovered the truth.

If a bullet hadn't made Larry Smiley's exit from the woman's life, then he would have walked away himself into the arms of his lover, whoever she may be.

This way was more permanent and far more tragic.

"And what were you doing when he was murdered?" Logan asked.

Liam took a big gulp of his coffee.

"As I told the police, I was at the supermarket. I wanted to busy myself because I knew what you were doing that day." The older woman said, running her slender fingertips around the rim of her coffee cup, her tongue moistening her dry lips.

"That's understandable." Liam nodded.

"Hmm," Logan spoke. "So, about the case into your husband's infidelity, we didn't find anything as he was killed as we trailed him."

"You see, I find that odd." Mrs. Smiley said. "That you two did not see anything at all."

"Oh, we saw things," Liam said, his eyes boggling at his memory.

"Oh?" The woman's eyes landed on him, expectantly waiting for an explanation.

"He is dramatic," Logan said quickly. "This really is police territory and Rois...I mean DCI O'Connor is a very dedicated detective."

Liam smirked behind his cup.

A loud thud from upstairs sounded out again, forcing everyone to gaze to the ceiling as smaller thumps happened to move along the floor above them.

Logan frowned. "You have an enormous cat, Mrs. Smiley."

The woman's cheeks reddened. "Not so large, but very clumsy, I'm afraid."

"You must have a perfect cat; my grandmother has one, she rips the heck out of the sofa. She has a scratching post but prefers to destroy what my grandmother worked a lifetime to afford." Logan said as she observed the pristine perfect furniture. It was honestly impressive.

"He behaves when it counts."

"May I use your bathroom?" Liam asked.

"No!"

Liam and Logan's heads shot up at the woman's over-eager response and the force behind her words.

"I mean, I don't let strangers use our bathroom." Mrs. Smiley coughed, clearing her throat.

"Okay," Liam muttered. Bet you're fun at parties.

Logan and Liam shared a brief look before Logan turned her attention back to the woman. "Is there anyone who would want your husband dead?"

Mrs. Smiley placed her cup delicately down on the table and brushed a strand of non-existent hair from her eyes. "I couldn't think of one single soul. He was a very well-loved man."

"I'm sorry for your loss, you must have been together for a long time." Liam softly said.

"Yes." The older woman replied.

Oh, that was it. No fond remembrances, perhaps it's for the best my stomach wouldn't tolerate it. Logan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you, thank you for investigating. I really do not require a refund." Mrs. Smiley smiled as she stood abruptly to her feet.

"I wasn't going to offer one." Logan shrugged.

Mrs. Smiley ushered the two out of her front door and promptly closed the door behind her, leaving them open-mouthed on her doorstep.

"Well, that was interesting," Liam said.

"You can say that again," Logan replied, leading the way back to Liam's car.

"So, I suppose we wait for our next case," Liam said as he leaned over the roof of the car.

"Something doesn't make any sense," Logan said, tapping the palms of her hands along the car. "We didn't hear a gunshot because whoever shot him used a silencer, which means they were planning to kill him."

"And?" Liam shrugged.

"Cheating husband goes to see his bit on the side, and he ends up dead. Someone knew what he was up to and got pretty pissed. I think they stalked him." Logan said thoughtfully, it was the only thing that made sense now. It couldn't have been a chance or design.

It had all been planned.

"Stalking, it isn't the same as murder, though, is it?" Logan asked cynically.

"Stalking is murder in slow motion, Liam," Logan replied. "Murder in slow motion, and usually the prey never even sees the predator coming."