100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 165: Red lace

Sunday, 7 Eastbourne Rd.

Marco was sporting a frown on his face, jaw clenched firmly. A hiss passed his mouth gracelessly as the medic applied antiseptic on his wound. The two of them sat inside the ambulance. He was on another case with the blond psychologist, one that almost got them both killed.

It started only as a missing person case that turned into some international debacle.

Marco thanked the medic as he got off the ambulance, holding his shoulder, where a bullet grazed him. His eyes drifted to Levi a short distance away, who was having a brief conversation with Anna, the two seemingly finished in their usual annoying sibling rivalry way. Levi walked towards him with the same confident swagger; lips were cracking into a self-satisfied grin.

"You called Anna." Marco commented, earning a non-committal nod from the blond, "Of course, I’d hate to deal with Lisa if I get you accidentally killed," he said.

"How did you know he was a Prince?" the bearded man asked as the two made their way towards the blond’s car.

"His cat." was Levi’s simple reply. Marco simply shook his head, lost at his statement. He decided to keep quiet; it had been a long day after all, and he would never understand some things even if he tried.

The two drove back to Eastbourne, where Mrs. Whitehall greeted them worriedly after seeing their slightly disheveled appearance. The old woman tottered away to prepare the tea and biscuits in hopes it will help comfort them. Marco slumped to the armchair, careful with his battle wound. At the same time, Levi made a beeline to the kitchen to check on his ongoing experiment in the refrigerator.

Marco huffed in his seat and begrudgingly stood from his seat, feeling too many cushions on the chair for his liking. He pulled one out, threw it on the sofa, and sat back down to test it. He huffed again, annoyed, feeling the same discomfort again; Marco pulled the remaining cushion to prop it perfectly, for the badly needed comfort. However, he was taken aback at what he saw under it.

With wide eyes, his eyes darted from the blond psychologist who was writing something on the paper fastened on the refrigerator to the item on the chair, then back again a few times till it dawned on him completely.

"Levi," Marco stated, holding the grin from appearing on his lips.

"Hmmm," Levi responded in a grunt, not bothering to look at the man as he continued writing notes on the paper. "Sam slept over again, I see," Marco said, watching the Irishman from the kitchen; he had heard of this from Mrs. Whitehall. Sam sleeping over hasn’t been anything new since the two tend to experiment (innocent experiments, that is) till the wee hours of the night from what he was aware of.

Levi gave him a look now, noticing his odd tone.

"Yes." Levi replied, looking straight to the bearded man’s eyes, "why?" He asked seconds later, intrigued by the look Marco was sending him. Marco’s brows were raised in an expecting manner as if saying, ’Do you want to tell me something, mate?’; But the Irishman didn’t budge; more likely, Levi didn’t understand his so-called ’knowing gaze.’

Defeated, Marco picked up the ’item’ stuck in the chair, red lace underwear with the ends of his fingertips.

"Unless you’ve had some sudden life choices, mate," Marco commented.

’So, that’s where it was.’ Levi thought.

Levi simply strutted towards Marco, hand open, and Marco handed Levi the underwear with a smirk on his face. Levi simply closed his palm and pocketed it in his breast pocket, like he would do a handkerchief.

"So..." Marco started, wanting his best friend to share something...anything. Like maybe, acknowledge the elephant in the room, but Levi remained silent and casually took a seat on the sofa with his legs crossed.

The two turned to the door when Mrs. Whitehall came in with tea, and there was silence till the older woman left the room.

Marco pursed his lips, his mood completely turning a 180. "You and Sam...." he continued, grinning now, causing Levi to frown while he sipped his tea like an aristocrat would. Honestly, the Irishman wanted not to address any of it, even as obvious as it already was now. Marco need not ask; in his perspective, it was obvious what was going on. It only takes a small amount of observational skills.

Levi recalled the evening before, how the piece of clothing found its way, well, not with the wearer. Sam had walked in his flat in corporate attire---which was a rarity; she was in a pencil skirt, high heels, and was wearing a fair amount of makeup.

...

Yesterday

"This stockholder meeting reminds me of why I didn’t talk to my brother for ages." She said, walking in, heels clicking against his wooden floors. "Tea?" She added, walking to the kitchen before he could even answer with yes. He watched her stand there waiting for the water to boil impatiently in the kitchen, eyes glued to her ankles then above. He didn’t understand it himself, but his body started to grow war, and he loosened the tie around his neck.

The redhead returned shortly, heels clicking on his floors; each sound felt like a taunt to him. She stopped at the side of his chair, complaining about how she wasted a day to deal with corporate things she didn’t give a damn about. She bent over as she placed the tray on the coffee table, pouring each of their cups. He had honestly considered jumping her when she did but decided otherwise, gritting his teeth. He turned subtly away from her, looking at the ceiling as he felt blood rushing through his veins.

"What?" Sam asked with furrowed brows, when he simply stared at thin air for a good 5 minutes, pondering his next move. By that time, she was already halfway through her cup of tea, looking at him oddly while she sat on the sofa with her legs crossed. She wondered what was going in his mind; he hadn’t exactly acknowledged any of her complaints like he usually did.

The Irishman turned to look at her and decided he waited long enough. He stood and removed his suit jacket, draping it carefully on his chair. Then moved towards her, passing the front door on the way he twisted the lock. She arched a brow at his action.

He stopped before her, his eyes piercing hers, and he suddenly knelt in front of her. Causing her green eyes to widen, he hated creasing and unnecessarily dirtying his suits. But there he was. Knelt before her, eyeing her feet.

He reached down and wrapped his hand gently around one of her ankles, lifting it from the floor and removed her heels. A move she did not anticipate at all. She leaned forward to place her teacup on the table, and her eyes bounced from the closed door to his piercing eyes. Sam sighed, leaned back comfortably,

"I’m tired...You have to work for it," she said.

Needless to say, the second thing he removed was now in his breast pocket.

The morning after that, Sam walked out of his bedroom,

"I can’t find my knickers." She whispered to his ear as he ate at the kitchen table. Whispered, because Mrs. Whitehall was present in the flat. She had looked in his bedroom repeatedly but failed to find it.

"I have to go to work in 30 mins. I have a board meeting at Guy’s." Sam added, moving around the flat, checking under the seats.

Mrs. Whitehall tilted her head, noticing the redhead searching around. "Lost something, Dear?" the old woman asked, causing Sam’s cheeks to flare red. The embarrassed look on her face caused Levi to chuckle in his seat. "Yes? Lost something?" he inquired teasingly. Sam looked at the woman, "Aaaahhh...just my...watch?" she lied.

"it’s around your wrist, Dear." Mrs. Whitehall pointed out, good-heartedly. Levi snorted in her pathetic attempt of a lie, earning a glare from her, "Oh. My bad. Thanks, Mrs. Whitehall." Sam replied, walking back to the kitchen to sip her cup of coffee and pinching Levi skillfully away from the old woman’s eyes.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!!" Levi jerked, rubbing his waist where her hand was.

The old woman smiled, "You two are just adorable." she commented, retreating downstairs.

"Do, please find it before someone else does," Sam said, accepting defeat after rechecking her watch.

20mins, to get to her flat, shower, change, and go to Guy’s. She was definitely going to be late, and she hated being late.

"It’s your underwear." Levi pointed out, unfolding the newspaper on the table.

Sam turned to him, "Yes, which you removed if I recall correctly, and last time I checked, my memory is perfect." she stated, finishing her coffee. In his seat, Levi huffed in defeat, a newspaper in hand like every morning; she did make a perfect point. Sam stood up from her chair about to leave; she looked down at him with a smile on her face.

Her hand found its way to his right cheek, and he looked at her; her lips crashed against his seconds later, softly and longer than they both planned. She left soon after, muttering, ’find it’ on her way out the door.

....

"So...you and Sam..." Marco said, humor in his voice.