The detective watched Simons' face as the man examined his water glass. The expression was priceless; no doubt it was in the dictionary next to the word "revulsion". The ADA was wound incredibly tight. Logan wondered exactly what was necessary for the man to unwind, and what would happen when Simons finally let go and got down and dirty. Yeah, down and dirty and sweaty and tasty. Logan wouldn't mind being center stage when that happened.<br/><br/>The grime didn't seem to bother Noah, but then Logan didn't think it would since the man dealt in bodily fluids on a daily basis. Logan had seen more than his share of dead bodies, and they all had something in common: the smell. The smell of death was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times he watched a body being bagged and tagged. Still, when the Doc teased him about the valerian, and those dark eyes gazed his way, Logan had to stop himself from leaning in and sinking his mouth onto the slick cord of sinew that stretched from Noah's neck to his shoulder, the lingering scents from the morgue be damned.<br/><br/>Ronnie, the gum snapping waitress, brought their meals and Simons gave his salad the same scrutiny he gave the water glass. Unfortunately, the salad lost this round as the ADA tried not to squirm. Logan opened a bottle of ketchup and bathed his burger in it before picking it up and taking a huge bite as he glanced over at the stage, the dancer finally losing her bikini top, the melon-sized enhanced breasts barely moving as she began to grind her pelvis right in a customer's face. Simons' eyes were on him as his jaw worked over the burger, and Logan's gaze flicked to his right as his tongue snaked out to lick a stray drop of ketchup from the side of his mouth. It was a slow lick, and Logan tried not to grin as the ADA's gaze dropped to his burger with a hungry look.<br/><br/>As the man answered his question, Logan nodded in agreement as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "Yeah, motive isn't hard to find. But opportunity could be a problem. We know the timeline on this one. Alfred was alone for at least five hours before he popped off, and there's no evidence anyone entered or left the residence during that time. Records from the company that handles the alarm system in the house indicate the alarm code wasn't entered into the system, so either the alarm was off, or whoever punk'd Alfred was already in the house." Logan reached for a napkin and wiped his lips, swiping off the grease from the burger.<br/><br/>Speaking of being punk'd, lawyer-boy seized the opportunity to get a dig in on Logan's pharmaceutical knowledge, and the detective raised a brow. "Does it really matter how I know? What you should be thinking about is where did it come from, who brought it into the house, and who fed it to the dearly departed." Logan's voice dropped an octave, and his shoulders stiffened a bit. He was about to snark some more until a flash of movement caught his eye and the detective blinked towards the front door. He dropped his head to his plate, but his eyes zeroed in on the man who just entered the bar, wearing a long trench coat and taking a seat at the end of the bar.<br/><br/>Taking two seconds to assess the situation and make a decision, Logan slid to his left and slipped a hand onto the Doc's thigh, squeezing it warmly before leaning into the man and whispering into his ear. "Get up and go into the men's room. Call 911 and tell them that a 2-11 is in progress at this address. Tell them an officer is on the scene and needs backup. Then stay in the can and don't come out, no matter what you hear. Okay?" Logan's voice was soft and silky smooth, and he was dead serious. He figured the Doc would be slightly less nervous than Simons, and he had to get one of the men out of the booth so he could disarm the unfriendly, who was currently glancing around the bar with a hand inside his coat.