A/N – sorry this took so long to post y'all but I had a helluva time figuring out the mystery myself ;-) Thanks to Stearns for letting me borrow his catchphrases, Janice for her motivation and Belize for being Watson to my Sherlock Holmes. I hope you all enjoy this installment! Luv, CW

All-nighter was right. While Logan tracked down lead after lead, Max played mommy to Sofiya until eventually both girls fell asleep on Logan's couch, unaware to Logan.

At eleven PM, he noticed that Max had not complained for over an hour nor had Sofiya. Quietly rolling into the den, he saw them conked out together, with the baby on Max's chest and Max's hand on Sofiya's back. Both were breathing softly, almost melodiously.

"Hey sleeping beauty," Logan joked, whispering into Max's ear. "Rise and shine."

Max gave no answer so he picked up a pencil and poked her in the shoulder. Hard. Still, she didn't budge. Logan gave a heavy sigh and threw the pencil across the room. He heard it smack the wall and roll across the floor.

It had been a long evening. Wherever Clio had hidden herself, she had done it well. Logan was in no mood to play hide and seek but he knew how painful it was to grow up with out a mother, even though he was not very young when his passed on. If he couldn't find Clio, he'd be crushed. Sofiya was too little to be abandoned like this, especially with Max.

A mother is a key aspect in any child's life.

Logan wheeled back into his office and stared blankly at the screen which showed the latest newspaper article involving Aurelius Parvo and the Chosen.

Why am I concentrating on Parvo?

Getting a stroke of genius, Logan logged onto a search engine and typed in Clio Belmont. Almost immediately, an interesting article popped up. It was a police file.

CLIO BELMONT

AGE: 20

BIRTHDATE: July 4, 2000

HEIGHT: 5 foot 6

WEIGHT: 110 lbs
HAIR: red
EYES: green
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: barcode tattoo on back of neck, tattoo of eagle across her back, tattoo of US flag on hip.

            Clio Belmont is wanted in Washington and Oregon for armed robbery, fraud and murder. Believed to be extremely strong. May be carrying a concealed weapon at all times. Wanted Alive. $75,000 reward

            Logan sat back, astounded. The nice, good-natured, perky little redhead he'd met four days ago with an adorable daughter was wanted in two states for armed robbery, fraud and murder?

            "MAX!" Logan called. "MAX GET IN HERE!"

            He heard her moan and grumble. "What?"

            "Max, I can't wait for you to see this … get in here!"

            She blew out a puff of air, carefully removed Sofiya who was using her breasts as a pillow, off her chest and into her bassinette. She sauntered into Logan's office and retorted with a yawn,

            "You rang, Great and Powerful Eyes Only?"

            "Read this."

            Max ground sleep out of her eyes and focused on the file Logan pulled up. After she read it a few times, her eyes widened in disbelief.

            "Are you shittin' me?"

            "It's all there in black and white, Max."

            "This is not cool, Logan. She's a fugitive! That's why she left Sofiya with me! She's on the run from the cops and I helped her escape!"

            "No you didn't. No one exactly asked you to watch Sofiya."

            Max blew a few strands out of her face and cradled her head in her hands. "What could she have done?"

            "Armed robbery I can understand. When you have a child, you'll go through anything for them. She probably held up a convenience store," Logan said quickly, trying to soften the blow and salvage Max's dignity.

            "But murder? Jesus."

            "It couldn't have been Parvo. You did that. No one would've caught you anyway."

            "What about Sofiya's father?"

            "What about him?"

            "Maybe he was the one she murdered? Maybe that's why we can't find him?"

            "Possibly."

            "This is one of the most ridiculous mysteries I've ever encountered."

            "Just remember we're also dealing with the welfare of a child."

            "Save it, Mother Goose. We may be dealing with the welfare of a child but also with the child of a wanted murderer. We can get into some deep shit."

            "Correction: just by having Sofiya here, we're already in deep shit. If Clio comes back, anyone who sees this file can turn her in like that," Logan snapped his fingers, "for that kind of money and Sofiya will either be stuck here with you or sent to an orphanage."

            "This whole situation is ri-God-damn-diculous," Max muttered to herself. "If she's wanted in Washington and Oregon, she won't be there. Maybe she's in Cali."

            "Plausible."

            "Then again there's the possibility of Idaho, Montana, Nevada and Utah. I don't think she'd go to Wyoming, for obvious reasons."

            "Well, we're not doing any good by guessing, Max."

            Max, out of absolute nervousness, began to pace, pounding her fists into her thighs to the point of bruising.

            "I'm such an idiot."

            "No you're not. Stop that. None of this is your fault," Logan reprimanded harshly. "The only idiot in this situation is Clio."

            "I'm really frustrated right now … I let a murderer get away, I have a kid who isn't mine … this is fuckin great."

            "Language, please."

            "Oh, like you care."

            "Max, you're acting like a child."

            "Well listen, I can't be held responsible for Clio's actions."

            "No one can, especially Clio in this case."

            There was an awkward silence between the two.

            "So," Max sat back. "We have a baby."

            "Supposedly," Logan retorted with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Should I start calling you Mom?"

            "Uh, how about 'no'?" Max glared at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, in a joking manner, Not unless I can call you Daddy, but it sounded like something Alec said nights ago. "So … I know if I go back to my place, OC will go berserk just for having Sofiya there. I guess I'm stuck here until something's done about Clio."

            "Guess so."

            "While I'm here," Max eyed Logan's bedroom door. "Can I wear those awesome sweatpants?"

            "You mean 'your' sweatpants? I can't really call them mine anymore—you borrow them all the time."

            Max was already there. She had slammed the door behind her and emerged ten minutes later looking like a college co-ed, with her hair all in her face, falling softly onto her shoulders and wearing Logan's sweatpants, Logan's t-shirt and Logan's socks.

            "Don't you look comfortable," Logan laughed.

            "Yeah well get used to sharing your clothes, buddy," Max said, passing the office and into the kitchen. Logan wheeled after her. "If I'm going to be staying here I sure as hell want to be comfortable. No leather for a few days," she proclaimed from inside the refrigerator.

            "I'll believe it when I see it. Hungry?"

            "Yeah. How'd you guess?"

            "Well you only stay for extended periods of time without reason for food. Tonight is no exception," Logan closed the refrigerator. "C'mon Max, I'm the one that has to pay the bills here."

            Sofiya woke up and began to bawl. Max winced. The sound of babies crying put her in distress.

            "I'll whip up something while you be Mommie Dearest," Logan said.

            She nodded, leaving the kitchen to the living room where Sofiya lay in her bassinette, wailing.

"Aw, Sofiya," Max cooed in a motherly manner. "Are you hungry, cutie?" She picked up the wailing child.

As she cradled Sofiya and rustled through the diaper bag for a bottle and some formula to feed her, a loud knocking came at the door.

            "I'll get it," Logan exclaimed, making his way towards the foyer.

            Max sauntered into the kitchen, bouncing the baby to calm her down. At least she'd stopped screaming. With one hand and much difficulty, she tried to prepare a bottle using the powdered formula. She was instantly overwhelmed with respect for all the moms that did this daily. For Max, this was only a taste.

            Man, I so don't want kids, she thought to herself as shook her head. She cocked her head and listened as Logan opened the door.

            "Can I help you?" he asked.

            "I'm looking for Clio Belmont," the deep, hard voice said.

            "Well, I'm sorry to say Clio has departed and has not been back for several days," Logan replied coolly.

            In the kitchen, Sofiya had knocked the bottle out of Max's hand and began crying again. Frustrated and blowing some escaped strands of hair out of her eyes, Max picked up the bottle and tried to put it back into Sofiya's mouth but she wouldn't take it.

            "Is that not Clio's child?" the man inquired, referring to

            "Why, what's it to you?" Logan sat back in his chair. There was something about this guy he did not like.

            "I need to see Clio," the man insisted.  "Get her for me now."

            "Listen, my wife and I," Logan said sternly, punctuating the word wife, loud enough for Max to hear. She did and blushed, "are watching Clio's daughter as a favor."

            "Sweetie," Max said syrupy sweet, coming out of the kitchen into the foyer, holding Sofiya. "Who is it?"

            "Someone looking for Clio," Logan said, playing along with Max. He glanced back at the guy in the in the doorway and back at Max, who had also taken a good look at him. A expression of abject terror had wiped over her face. "Honey? What is it?"

            Only one word escaped her lips. A word that chilled her to the very bones. It came out in an ominous whisper,

            "Lydecker."