Chapter Nine

That night Logan lay awake in her dark bedroom, she'd made it to her bedroom tonight, but her mind kept whirling.

The case kept praying on her mind. Liam had said Smiley had been stalked, what if he had? Followed to his ultimate doom with the amount of CCTV cameras along the way, they were bounty to have picked up something.

That would have to wait.

Logan sighed as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness; the light that shone in from the moon outside seemed to grow smaller until she blinked, and the game would begin again.

She remembered a story she'd been told of her Grandfather's aunt, who had been killed by the Nazis for spreading anti-Nazi propaganda.

Just a few fliers urging the people to think for themselves, and it ended in her demise.

Her Grandfather always compared Logan to her, a crusader for justice no matter the cost who flew close to the edge and was unaccountably unafraid of the dark or dangers that lurked.

It all meant nothing when her Grandfather had joined the german army, his way of showing he was loyal even though he was scared. However, he'd been captured when his plane was shot down in 1942 and sent to a prisoner of war camp.

After that, he never returned to Germany; he fell in love with the daughter of the farmer he was sent to work as manual labor for, and they were married soon after the war.

It had never been a story Logan had been particularly proud of; why would she, after all the very word was rooted in vile, disgusting hate.

It had always filled her with relief that the man himself saw his heroic sister in her and not himself. She would have done if he had said she was the spitting image of him Logan did not know, but it would not have been good.

The man had died on Logan's twenty-first birthday, was she supposed to mourn him or not? She'd been confused, wasn't, even members of the royal family who had Nazis relatives hid them carefully away from sight until it popped up in the media one day.

Her grandmother, Lillith, had told her that she loved him, and they'd endured struggles in their lives but had each other, and while Logan shouldn't be proud of the boy he was, she should be proud of the man her Grandfather became.

Now Lilith wanted her to forgive her mother, what was it with that woman and forgiveness?

Logan wondered if that darkness resides inside her, too, like a pool of doom that made her seek out disaster. Or was that just recently?

Logan turned her head on the pillow to look at the empty space next to her; with a heavy heart, she sighed.

"I need a new bed." The woman sighed, wistfully returning back to her maudlin thoughts.

July 17th, 2016

"No, turn it to the left a bit." Roisin struggled as she tried to move the mattress so that Logan was going the opposite.

"I am going left, my left." Logan puffed out.

"For Goodness sake, I meant my left." Roisin sighed; they'd been doing battle with this new bed for over an hour. It didn't help that their stairway curved in an unnatural shape, proving most challenging to maneuver anything substantial through it.

At this point, Logan was dedicated to throwing the whole bed out the window, and sleeping on the floor would be far more relaxed in the end.

"Just move it to your left, Rois." Logan huffed out as she gave one giant shove that caught her wife off guard and sent her flying up the steps until she landed flat on her bottom, her face uncertain whether to rage in anger or cry with frustration.

"OMG, Babe, I'm so sorry!" Logan gasped, trying to sneak around the large mattress only to realize it took up all the space on the stair, only a few weeks married, and Logan had already bruised her wife's perfect bottom.

"I wasn't ready at that time," Roisin said, rising to her feet and grabbing a firm hold of the annoying object. "Get a move on because I'm hungry. I want my Chicken Cacciatore."

Logan rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you are always hungry."

Roisin grinned at her wife, casting Logan a mischievous grin. "You're just jealous I'm not always hungry for you."

"Oh no, no way, married two minutes and already bored with me," Logan mumbled under her breath as she pouted like a teenager.

Roisin laughed. "Get the bed up, and I'll give you a reward."

Logan frowned; what kind of reward was she talking about? Was it Italian chicken or an actual prize worth the effort? "What kind of reward?" Logan asked suspiciously.

"Get it up, and you'll find out," Roisin replied in her voice of husky toned honey.

"Yes, Ma'am," Logan vowed as she set straight into motion; her motivation was clear, get the mattress up quicker, and she could get her reward. In no time, Logan had almost single-handedly secured the mattress and the bed in their bedroom and stood eagerly by the side of the bed proudly pointing at it.

Roisin smirked, unsure how one person could be so cute. "Excellent."

"Now, my reward," Logan said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, yes." Roisin drawled. "Extra Cacciatore for you."

"What!"

Logan pulled the chair closer to the screen; there were advantages to having quick wit and charm.

There was also the added need for a victim who was easily fooled by the wit mentioned above.

That was how Logan Luther had found her way into the surveillance room of the golf club. Discovering the police had taken the footage from that day did not disparage Logan as they kept copies.

Liam shifted nervously beside her, his eyes moving to the door.

"Liam, calm down," Logan said as she began her search; she needed to find Larry Smiley, and there should be someone following him. In her theory anyway. "I'm gonna nail that posh twat."

"I know you're a top Log, but I don't think he is much of a bottom." Liam shrugged.

Logan rolled her eyes. "As if he'd get lucky enough to get fucked by me."

"Hurry up, Logan, we really shouldn't be here," Logan whined.

"You owe me, remember that time you stormed into my office and declared you had a, and I'm quoting you here, a micropenis," Logan said with her eyes accusing Liam.

Liam's cheeks turned red. "I was excited the hormones were working."

"Yeah, I know, you practically dry jumped a lamp post that day, you horny little twit," Logan said, returning her gaze to the screen.

Liam's eyes widened with horror as the door opened slowly, and in the doorway stood the unmistakable figure of Roisin O'Connor. Her face was fixed and unamused; she had decently not come for a friendly little chat and a piece of chocolate cake.

Roisin lifted her finger to her lips as a signal for him to remain silent; Liam's wide eyes moved over to Logan before rushing towards the exit and slipping past the imposing woman.

It was strange to think that he had seen her be so sweet and fluffy.

"Not a talker today, huh Liam?" Logan mumbled. "Weird, you're a regular little chatterbox."

Roisin raised an eyebrow as she let her ex-wife continue talking to no one, and an amused little smile creased her luscious lips.

"This always was my least favorite job," Logan complained. "Looking through hours upon hours of surveillance footage."

Feeling devious, Roisin bent down, trying not to alert Logan to her presence. "You used to give this job to someone else," Roisin whispered in Logan's ear.

Logan leaped into the air; the only thing that kept her chair in place was the fact that Roisin was holding it in place. A delighted smug look on her lips as Logan clutched hold of her chest and tried to regulate her breathing back to normal.

"What the hell, Roisin?" Logan gasped.

Roisin laughed; it was always amusing to catch the ever-cool Logan off her feet. "The manager called about someone being in here. Apparently, they'd sweet-talked the lady at the front desk and slid on in."

"Ah yeah, that," Logan said as she rubbed her neck. "I was just…"

"Intruding on an ongoing investigation, you are not Jessica Fletcher Logan," Roisin told the woman, planting her hands on her hips, wondering if Logan would ever grow up and accept responsibility.

"No, I was watching some tv…." Logans face blushed when she saw Roisin's eyebrow creep up higher. "Ok, but I have a valid reason. I believe Lamb was followed here and...oh what the hell, what if he was lured here?" Logan said, rushing younger feet.

"Logan."

"That could make sense, his lady friend lured him here she was in the forest, and her husband is hiding waiting for him, he'd never have suspected it." Logan gasped suddenly. It was all making so much sense.

"And why would they kill a client?" Roisin asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's obvious, he threatened to tell her about what lord and lady Huffington do, they'd be disgraced and shamed." Logan reasoned, why else would they be reluctant to go to the police if they were rich (in theory) titled, posh white people. When did the cops ever victimize one of those?

Never.

There was definitely something wrong with those two; Logan was determined to uncover it.

Roisin shook her head. "While you were busy planning your break in here, they both came down to the station and gave a statement."

Logan's mouth fell open in shock; that was the last thing she expected to.hear.

"And their alibi checks out, so what's your next move Hetty Wainthrop?" Roisin smiled.

"You're going to run out of old women detectives and busybodies soon," Logan complained.

"I'll recycle," Roisin said. "Come on, move your little ass, you know I should be arresting you for this little move Logan."

"I'm helping a grieving client," Logan replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"You're all heart." Roisin glared at the woman. "Logan, you're not in the force anymore. This is not your job; it's ours. Go back to your little office and wait until another little girl comes in looking for her missing kitten whose actually stuck up a tree."

Logan frowned.

"Oh, I forgot you are frightened of heights." Roisin laughed.

"That's what I keep Liam around for," Logan grunted.