Page 31 of Rhythm Of Redemption

The weight of the ongoing investigation bore down on her, burdening her shoulders, especially with Serena Rice's unexpected arrival. Serena held the power to make or break Lou's business, leaving her anxious about Serena's reaction if she discovered her unintentional involvement in an international money laundering ring. And to make matters worse, the prime suspect was now living in her own home.

Uncertainty clouded Lou's mind as doubts resurfaced about allowing Logan to stay with her, casting a dark shadow over the intimacy they had shared the previous night. It felt as though an invisible veil of deceit had descended upon them, tainting their connection with a bitter aftertaste that persisted in her heart. Doubts crept in, eroding Lou's confidence in the decisions she had made since Logan had entered their lives.

Wearing a polite smile, she graciously welcomed Detective Russell into her home, skilfully masking her annoyance beneath a thin veneer of hospitality. As they settled into the living room, an undercurrent of tension hung in the air, fuelling Lou's growing impatience as time ticked away. “I assume you're here to speak with Logan?”

But to her surprise, Detective Russell's nonchalant response sent a chilling shiver down her spine. “No, actually, it's you I wanted to speak to,” he stated, his eyes scanning the room with an unsettling intensity.

A twinge of uncertainty gnawed at her insides. “Me? I'm not quite sure what you think I can tell you.”

The detective shrugged nonchalantly, as if their conversation was a mere formality. “Just routine,” he assured her, his words offering little comfort. “How long have you lived here?”

She hesitated, her unease swelling. “It's been about five years,” she reluctantly disclosed, her mind racing with apprehension.

His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding as he continued his probing. “And you moved here with your husband and daughter, correct?” he inquired, his tone suggesting there was more to his line of questioning than met the eye.

Her stomach twisted with a knot of fear mingled with irritation at the detective's unwavering persistence. She nodded, avoiding direct eye contact, her unease intensifying with each passing moment. “Yes, that's correct.”

Detective Russell's brows furrowed, a spark of curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “But you're divorced now?” His words carried a subtle undertone, hinting at a deeper significance behind his seemingly mundane questions.

Lou's irritation prickled, her impatience teetering on the edge. With a curt nod, she shifted her gaze slightly away from his piercing stare. “Yes, we're divorced.”

The detective's gaze remained fixed, his scrutiny growing more intense. “And does your husband still live on the island?” he probed further, delving into personal territory.

Lou felt her irritation surge, impatience simmering just beneath the surface. “No, he left about a year ago. He's with his girlfriend, somewhere in Norway or perhaps Sweden. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure.”

Detective Russell persisted, his questions relentless like crashing waves against her dwindling patience. “But you share a daughter, so surely you would know where her father is living?” he pressed, his voice accusatory.

Lou's frustration bubbled up, annoyance seeping into her words. “We're divorced, Detective, and keeping tabs on the man who abandoned us isn't exactly at the top of my priority list,” she snapped back.

He arched an eyebrow, shifting his focus to another topic. “And your daughter, Daniella,” he paused, consulting his notes. “She's sixteen?”

Lou's apprehension heightened, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes, she is,” she replied. The significance of Dani's age within the investigation eluded her, leaving her with a growing sense of unease.

Seeking to regain control of the conversation, she challenged the detective's motives head-on. “But why all these questions? Neither Dani nor I have any connection to this money laundering investigation.”

Detective Russell maintained his composed demeanour, his gaze steady. “Unlike Logan Meyer? Is that what you're implying?” he probed, his words hanging in the air, laced with a lingering suspicion.

“That's not what I said; you're twisting my words,” she countered, , refusing to let her words be misconstrued.

The detective's unwavering stare held her captive, his persistence unrelenting. “How long have you known Logan?” he pressed further, his eyes boring into hers.

“Not long, just a few months,” Lou replied, her tone guarded yet honest, unwilling to offer more than necessary.

Detective Russell's questioning gaze remained fixed upon her, his voice retaining its probing yet composed quality. “And how did you two meet?” he inquired, his words lingering in the air, demanding an unvarnished truth.

Lou hesitated, her mind racing as she weighed the consequences of her response. It felt as though Detective Russell already possessed knowledge of what had transpired at Logan's club that fateful night with Dani. The truth hung heavily in the air, and she understood that if she didn't come clean, it would only fuel suspicions and make her appear guilty. With a flicker of nervousness in her eyes, she mustered the courage to explain. “As you’re probably already aware, my daughter had a severe allergic reaction that triggered her asthma, Logan administered an EpiPen, saving her life,” she admitted, realising it was true. Who knows what could have happened if he hadn’t been there.

Detective Russell arched an eyebrow sceptically, doubt etched on his face. “But you mentioned Dani is sixteen. Doesn't Spanish law clearly state that one must be eighteen to enter a nightclub?”

Lou attempted to diffuse the gravity of the situation, injecting a touch of humour despite the weight of his implication. “Come on, Detective, we've all snuck into bars or clubs when we were underage, haven't we?”

The detective's gaze remained unyielding, his persistence unwavering. “This isn’t about me. Is Mr Meyer in the habit of admitting underage individuals into his club?” he asked.

Each option she considered carried its own set of risks and potential harm. She knew that regardless of what she said, the repercussions could be far-reaching, leaving her with a sinking feeling of being trapped between an insurmountable rock and an unforgiving hard place.

“No, he does not,” Logan's voice resounded through the room, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. A surge of relief coursed through her veins as Logan's firm words shattered the focus on her, redirecting the attention towards himself instead. In that moment, a burden lifted from her shoulders, replaced by a rush of gratitude.

“Lou has nothing to do with this investigation or what goes on at my club. If you have any questions regarding either, you can address them to me or my lawyer,” her asserted, effectively closing the door to any further questions.

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