100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 151: The Reunion IX

A week later, West End.

Levi surveyed the scene with the body in the corner of the room, Davies, Jones, and Marco watching him move to and fro like a bomb-sniffing dog. It had been a week since the two geniuses saw each other.

Marco sighed, seeing the absolute irritation in the psychologist’s gait. He had been in an awful mood after the redhead from what the Irishman had shared refused to answer any of his calls and text messages. "Whatever happened, it’s your fault. Apologize." the bearded man advised, earning a glare from Levi and a curious look from Jones. In contrast, Davies nodded silently in the corner of the room.

"Wasp sting, highly allergic." Levi thought out loud after looking at the body sprawled on the tiled floor; Jones nodded but was more intrigued with what Marco had said. He enjoyed a good gossip; after all, one can’t always chat with the dead.

Levi turned to Marco, "It’s not my fault." He insisted.

Marco sighed, "Trust me--" the bearded man started, as he followed behind the now departing psychologist. "It’s always your fault, even if it’s not. But honestly, I think it’s your fault." Marco said, amused. Marco had been aware of the fight between the two ’friends,’ Sam made it clear a few days ago when he came by Guy’s to visit, and Sam greeted him with a ", please tell me your ungrateful piece of fecal matter best friend is not with you."

Taken aback, Marco nodded, relieved Levi wasn’t there. He just came by to drop a banana cake his wife asked him to give to the redhead. Furthermore, thinking back, the Irishman had insisted he was "busy" with a nonexistent case when he asked if he wanted to tag along as he delivered said banana cake.

When Marco asked Sam what was going on between Levi and her, Sam narrowed her eyes at him, "I rather not speak of it. Please, it sends me into the foulest mood. I have a body to examine, and I don’t want to note the post mortem bruisings I might cause." she said, earning a wary nod from him—and taking it as his cue to leave.

Marco got in the Shelby cobra, "It’s been a week, mate. The more you wait, the longer the agony." he said. Levi scoffed, starting the car. "I am not in agony." he retorted, wanting to end their conversation. His friends and colleagues should really stop poking their noses into his personal business.

"I can invite her to dinner with you, Lisa, and me," Marco suggested while he drove. The Irishman shut his trap, considering the idea. Maybe a week was long enough for her to cool down after what he did and said. "Tomorrow night, good?" Marco asked, earning silence from the slicked blond. Taking his silence as a yes, Marco sat quietly next to him.

...

Evening After, Restaurant.

The next day came quickly; Sam and Levi sat across the couple. Neither of them had acknowledged each other, nor did they turn in either one’s direction. The whole dinner was torture; Lisa and Marco could feel the tension in the air. And eating was difficult when their throats felt constricted.

When the waiter asked if they wanted dessert, the group was happy to decline. Sam turned to the couple and sat across her, "I appreciate you inviting me to Dinner, Marco, Lisa." she said, wanting to just get out of the restaurant. "But I must go, I have a meeting with Mr. Jones early tomorrow morning," she said. Levi’s eyes narrowed at the redhead sitting next to him, "You hate Mr. Jones." he commented, catching her lie.

Sam rolled her eyes, "That statement is clearly my way of saying I want to leave." she said, not bothering to spare the slicked blond a look. "Thanks again for dinner," she said, making her way out after the two muttered an awkward reply.

Levi followed behind her, his long coat billowed against the wind. At least she didn’t hail a cab when she stepped out; thus, he was able to catch up with her. "Please tell me you’re still not mad about what happened during the reunion," he said.

"I am not mad about the reunion." She said sarcastically, sarcasm he missed, and he said with a furrowing his brows, "Then why are you avoiding me?"

Sam stopped in her tracks and whiplashed to face him, her eyes shooting daggers at him,

"Shut up." She spat, baffled at how clueless he was at times.

"Shut up." She repeated when he opened his mouth to say something. Convinced that he will not interrupt when she’s talking, she sighed, "Apologise" she instructed.

Levi frowned; he didn’t want to apologize; he saw no fault in what he did or said before. She shouldn’t have been making out with a criminal in the first place. "I don’t--" he started, and she began to walk away again, leaving him. "This is childish; you don’t expect me to apologize when I see no fault at my previous actions," he said.

"No-fault!" She scoffed, "You criticize me for something I did for you." She started, "I didn’t ask you to snog the man." He pointed out, earning a pointed look from her.

Sam narrowed her eyes at him, "Interrupt me again, Levi, and I will smack you." She warned, stretching her dominant hand. Levi thought it out, picking the less painful option; his jaw still aches after all, and so he shut his mouth.

"I have done all plausible ways to give you time in your plan, I have danced with him, took him to a more private location away from you and your schemes, he had been weary--anxious, he wanted to leave, what must I do to keep him in place so your plan can continue without flaw? Yes, I snogged the man. Engaged, I am well aware. Something I did for you!" She said, poking him with her finger forcefully as if to make a perfect point.

"Now, apologize for putting me in that situation. Making out with a killer, and a horrible kisser too!" She added more sternly.

Levi exhaled a breath; defeated, he stood straighter, fixed his suit jacket in place. And said, "I’m sorry." He said she looked in those orbs--saw the sincerity in them.

"Okay, dessert?" Sam said, earning an arched brow from the psychologist.

"PMS?" He shot back, "Don’t push it." Sam warned, walking ahead. "I have vanilla ice cream in the freezer." He offered, "To your freezer then." She said in a heartbeat, and Levi ushered her to follow him towards his car’s direction.

The two sat next to each other as the slicked blond drove to his flat; Sam shifted to him, "By the way." she started catching his attention, and he hummed in reply, a way to tell her he was listening. "Kiss me again; I will castrate you," she warned, causing Levi to shoot her an alarmed look. Hearing the seriousness of her tone, he nodded in reply, but at the back of his mind, he determined he needed to be more creative with his future approach. Something cunning.

....

7 Eastbourne Rd

Sam sat in the chair opposite Levi eating ice cream and the fish n’ chips they bought on their way to his flat.

"Perfect." She told herself, cravings satisfied. "By the way, why’d you get mad in the first place?" She asked Levi. The slicked blond who was eating chips paused, cocking his brow at her. "Well?" She pushed, licking the spoon clean.

He thought for a moment, "We never really got the chance to dance." He said, recalling the fact that the two of them just sat there gawking at people like stalkers. Sam broke into an amused smile, then placed the pint of ice cream on the center table. She wiped her hands on her pants clean. Levi gave her a curious look when she offered her hand to him, "Can I have this dance, Mr. Jackson? Believe me when I tell you I only ask once." She said, pulling her mobile phone from her back pocket and clicking a song on her playlist. Norah Jones’ "Come Away With Me" started to play in the background.

’Come away with me in the night.

Come away with me

And I will write you a song.’

Levi snorted, amused at her antics, but nevertheless, he smiled. Like he predicted, his plan was going smoothly. He took her hand, allowing her to pull him to the vacant spot in the flat.

’Come away where they can’t tempt us.

With their lies

I want to walk with you.

On a cloudy day.’

He wrapped his arm around her waist, and Sam shot him a surprised look at how good he was leading. "You’re brilliant. No way." She said, taken aback; in her opinion, she thinks dancing is her weakest skill. She never did enjoy it like she did self-defense classes, but right at that moment, she did enjoy it. Levi guiding her, leading the steps, she followed in sync, and she was surprised to feel light on her feet with him as her partner.

The song continued playing and Levi gazed back at her green eyes and made her smile, her teeth exposed in glee. His left-hand clasps with her right. Their backs straight, upright, and knees lose. Chest to chest, and both laughed when she accidentally stepped on his foot.

"Not half bad. Could get better with some practice." He tells her when the song finished, her laughter filling his flat--reaching even Mrs. Whitehall, who was now cooped up on the sofa beside her husband watching The Graham Norton Show.

"Young love." She whispered, leaning close to her husband.