"It belonged to his wife. Aisha."

I instantly looked up at him in shock. His own wife killed him? I glanced back at the picture and slowly trailed my finger down the page. From the looks of their face, they seemed happy. Her piercing blue eyes glimmered in the sun, as she starred adoringly at her husband. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips as Yusuf kissed the side of her head.

"Chief, that makes no sense. Why would she want to have her own husband dead?" Uncle Hussien rubbed his face and closed the file.

"That's where you guys come to play boys. I need you to question her. Ask around, find as much evidence as you can. This is possibly the bigger news that happened here in the last century, and i don't trust anyone but you boys. I've taught you everything I know, and you've proven to be the best officers here. I want to stress that I don't want this news to leak out. We've covered it as much as we can as of now. I trust you boys with this case, can you do it?"

I glanced away from the picture and looked into his eyes. What puzzled me was that the girl in the picture seemed shockingly familiar to me. What also made no sense was, why would his own wife want him dead?

"Sure sir. Trust me, we'll get to the bottoms of this."

***********
I pulled the collar from my neck and sighed. It's about one hundred degrees outside, and wearing a black shirt wasn't helping either.

For the last couple of hours, we've been driving around town searching for the address written on the file. After leaving the station, my mind was jumbled and confused. None of this made sense to me, but I didn't dare say anything. Our mission in the case was to find out who killed Yusuf, and I had to stop thinking otherwise.

I squinted against the blazing sun and sighed when the house came to view. It was a huge house, with a grey gate surrounding it. The gates roared to life as we pulled in and parked.

Ahmed pulled out his gun, and stuffed it into his back pocket. I raised an eye brow at him in confusion. All we were doing was talking to Yusuf's wife, why would he need a gun.

Ahmed simply shrugged and pulled open the door. "What? This lady is the only suspect we have right now. She could be dangerous for all we know."

I got out of the car and placed my sun glasses on top of my head. My hair was pulled back slightly from the heat, and small specks of sweat glistened on my forehead. A nervous strider ran through me as the front door was opened reveling a small women throwing out the trash. Ahmed turned to me and nodded when I sighed.

It's time to do this.

I walked over to the front door when the. Lady turned to me in confusion. Right then I noticed that this wasn't the wife, but probably the house lady.

"Good morning. My name is Ibrahim, and this is my colleague Ahmed. We're from the spring field police department, can I please speak to Miss. Umar." The lady sighed and shook her head while mumbling something along the lines 'poor her' and 'Allah help her' to herself.

"Yes sir. She's right inside." I nodded and started to take off my shoes and entered the house. Instantly I noticed that the house was a dull color, with burgundy curtains and rugs. The chairs were a dark brown color and the walls were a bare cream color. Everything looked simple and well done. Almost too perfect to be a crime scene.

Ahemd followed me to the nearest chair and sat down beside me. I rested my elbows on the chairs and looked around until a small voice, barley a whisper, filled my ears.

"Can I help you?"

I looked up at the source of the voice and shot up to stand. The first thing I seen were here strikingly blue eyes. It was a crystal color and seemed to pierce into your soul. I looked down and cleared my throat.

"Miss. Umar, we're here to do the standard procedure and question you about the incident that occurred last night involving the death of your husband." She sighed heavily and wiped her eyes. With her face looking down, she sat across from us while the lady from before pulled out a tray.

"Thank you Khadijah. Would you guys like some juice?" Ahmed and I slowly nodded our heads. The second they turned away, Ahmed raised an eyebrow in question.

If she was the killer, why would she be crying? Her eyes were puffed, and her face looked absolutely flushed from all the crying she must have done.

She slowly walked towards us and handed us both a cold glass of orange juice. I gave her a small smile and sipped the drink. The cold liquid cascaded down my throat and a sigh escaped my lips. I really needed that drink.

I glanced back at Aisha and found her staring at me. Her black hijab tightly covering her face and body. Her blue eyes roamed my face until a frown formed on her forehead.

"What could I help you gentlemen with?"

"We just need to ask you a couple of questions concerning the death of your husband." I involuntarily cringed when I said 'death' because it seemed to make her feel even worse. She flinched as if the words seemed to physically hurt her.

"Oh. Okay then. Go ahead."

Ahmed sat forward and took out the notepad while I checked for facial expressions, small noticeable observations that could indicate if she was lying or not. Even though the tongue can lie, the face and body can't. If she starts fidgeting, looking away, sweating, or biting her lip or nails, then we could have a ultimate suspect.

"Okay Mrs. Umar. Where were you last night around midnight?"

"I was at my mothers house taking care of her."

"Do you have any witnesses? Someone that can verify you were there?"

"Yes. My mother and Khadijah; my good friend and helper. You could ask her if you want to."

"Why did you go to your mother?"

"She was sick with Diabetes and her sugar levels weren't good. I stayed to help her and attain to her."

"When was the last time you seen your husband?"

"Yesterday at Asar when he dropped me off at my mothers house. That was the last time I seen him."

"Did you call him? Contact him? Hear from him at anytime after that?"

"No. I did not."

I was stunned at how calm she was. She sat up with her hands firmly in her lap. She addressed each and every single questions without hesitation. I watched her again, and could tell she was getting uncomfortable with my stare. I quickly looked down and played with the glass while waiting for Ahmed to finish writing.

"Okay Mrs. Umar. I'm going to ask you a personal question but I want you to answer truly okay? Did you and your husband get into a feud before last night? Was there any tension between you to during that duration of time?"

I frowned when I realized that her fingers began to move. She hesitated before looked directly at me and averting her gaze again. I knew that there was something about that question, and I was a hundred percent sure she would be hiding something.

"No. There was no tension at all." Ahmed turned to me as if waiting for me to speak up, but my instinct told me to keep quiet. There was something fishy about that question, and I wanted to wait to find out.

"Thank you Mrs. Umar. We'll contact you again for further questioning but as of today we're done." She sighed and wiped at her eyes.

"Jazaka Allah." I simply nodded and repeated it back before grabbing my shoes and putting it on. Right then a little girl came running to Mrs. Umar and gave her a hug.

"Mommy mommy, look what I painted!" Aisha gave her a sad smile before laughing at the picture. A single tear trailed down her face as she placed her thumbs at the picture and smiled.

My heart fell when I realized it was a family picture. One with her dad, mom and her.

"Mommy, look it's daddy, you, and me!" Ahmed turned to me with a sad look before looking down. The little girl had her fathers looks and smile. Her brown hair swayed in the hair as he hugged her mothers waist.

"Mommy where dad? He didn't come home yet?" Aisha closed her eyes for a second and wiped her tears before the little girl saw. She crouched down to her size and pinched her cheeks.

"Daddy went away for a couple of days, but we'll see him again Insha'Allah. May Allah let us met him soon." She whispered the last part to herself and hugged her daughter to her chest.

I turned away and walked out of the house with Ahmed on my heels. My mood completely changed, and my heart felt heavy with sadness. That little girl looked about five years of age, and she had already lost her father.

"Ibrahim, I don't know about you but I don't think she's the one who killed her husband man. It just doesn't seem right." I nodded and started the engine.

"I don't think so either, but you can't be so sure yet. We're going to have to ask around and gather further evidence before we could make judgment like that."

***
"Sir, have you seen this man around recently?"

For the past hour we've walked around a ten mile radius from the house, asking anyone and everyone if they had seen Yusuf between yesterday morning and last night. The day was filled with nothing but failure because no one had any comments whatsoever. The hot sun beamed heat onto my back and chest, and I was quickly burning up.

"Actually yes. I seen him yesterday walking with a young lady beside him." I frowned and stared at the man with wide eyes.

"Sir. You seen him yesterday?" The man simply nodded and continued sipping his tea.

"I was working with Isa back at the shop, and this young man was bickering with the young lady. They caused so much noise, everyone in the area turned to listen until the man stormed away, and the lady ran after him." I frowned and jotted it all down on my notebook.

"Do you remember how she looked sir?"

He scratched his beard before briefly looking me in the eyes and turning away. "Nope. I forgot. I do remember something being off about her though. There was something different, but my old memory seems to fail me right now." He gave me a small smile and I sighed and ticked the notebook back into my back before giving him a smile.

"Thank you sir. Jazaka Allah for the effort. Asalamu Ala'ikum." He smiled and nodded and sipped his tea.

I sighed and pulled down my shades and wipe the sweat off my forehead. I walked to the car and sat with the air conditioner fanning my face. A couple of minutes passed before the loud ring of my phone erupted in my ear.

I groaned and patted my hand around for the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey man, you have to get to the station fast. We've got more information." I sat up and breathed out as the engine came back to life.

It was nearly asar, and soon enough I could sleep. With that thought in mind, and drove down the street with my lights full on and bellowing down the clearing streets. One of my favorite advantages of being a police officer.

***

"Ahmed that makes no sense. You're going crazy." I shook my head and stuffed it between my legs.

For the past ten minutes He's been trying to convince me that Aisha was pretending.

"Look man, if I was in her position I would've done the same. Think about it. Yusuf was a wealthy man. He was a doctor for crying out loud. All of his life saving were safely tucked away in his safe, and low and behold. The moment he died, the safe was empty. The only other person with the pass code was her." I frantically shook my head and sat up.

"No Ahmed. I know when someone is faking. I know James Stellar was faking in the last case, and I know Deborah Collins was faking her suicide in the case before that. This girl wasn't faking when she cried. Those were real tears man, I know one when I see one. Trust me." Ahmed looked me in the eyes for a couple seconds before averting his gaze and slamming the papers on the table.

"What are we suppose to do know?" I shrugged before an idea came to mind.

"How about we question Khadijah. She must have noticed something." Ahmed nodded and smiled before looking down and whistling loudly.

"Oh man. I've got to get home to Safa before she gets angry. Mom'll get even more mad. I promised I'd come by at Asar. How about you go?" I narrowed my eyes at him before breaking into a smile. This wouldn't be the first time he used his family as an excuse to get outta work.

Ahmed caught on and laughed. "I swear I'm telling the truth. Go. And take notes, I want every single detail of what she says."

***
I slammed the door shut and quietly said bismillah under my breath. On the ride here, I thought about the little girl that Yusuf left behind, and suddenly I really didn't want Aisha to be the one who killed him.

I walked up the steps to the house and was about to knock when the door opened by itself. A gasp left my lips as I looked down and took a step back.

Aisha frowned and took her daughters hand and put her behind her. "Umm....how can I help you sir?"

"Salam. I'm just here to question your house keeper, Khadijah. Is she home?"

"No. She left a while ago to her family. It's Friday and I don't like her staying away from her home for too long. Is there anything I could help you with?"

I scratched the back of my head and bit my lip. Could I question her again. If I could gain her trust, maybe she'll tell me what she was hiding.

"We're you guys going somewhere? I don't want to bother you."

"No, we were going for a walk. Want to join? We can talk on the way there." I thought about it for a second and nodded. Hopefully it's less awkward then sitting in the house.

"Sure."

Just then she gave me a half smile and took her daughters hand and closed the door behind her.

"Come on Huda. Tie your shoes, we're going with uncle here." The little girl gazed up at me and gave me a smile.

"Hi Uncle, what's your name?" I grinned sadly and crouched down to her height.

"Ibrahim. Nice to finally meet you Huda." She suddently pulled my head into a hug and laughed. Her small breathy laugh filled my ears and I couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corner of my lips.

Aisha gazed at us and looked away for a second. I cleared my throat and let Huda go. Her arms slid off my neck and soon she was running down the side walk.

"Huda don't go to far! Slow down." Huda complied and started to walk before Aisha sighed and began walking as well.

"It's getting really hard keeping her fathers death from her. He was a huge part of her life, and now he's gone." I shoved my hands into my pockets and slowly tried to match her pace.

The trees around us swayed in the breeze and the gentle wind calmed and cleared my head. In that instant I knew she couldn't have killed him. It wasn't possible.

"Mrs. Umar, I know you didn't kill him and I'm sorry you have to go through all this but, if there is anything you could tell me-"

"Sir, I didn't kill my husband. Allah knows I would never do such a thing, and I know as a police officer it's your job, but please know that since Yusuf died, I have never felt worse in my life."

I rubbed my neck and closed my eyes. This was really getting frustrating.

"Was Khadijah at the house yesterday at all?" She shook her head and looked down at her feet. Again there was something she was hiding from me.

"Mrs. Umar, please tell me the truth. I'm going to try my best to clear your name but you have to comply. Hiding things isn't really helping you right now."

She merely sighed and shook her head. "I have no idea if she was there or not. You'd have to ask her yourself."

I nodded slowly and smiled when Huda returned.

"How old is she?"

"Two. She's turning three in May. Sometimes I feel like she's a bit older because of how smart she is."

"Huda. Such a beautiful name." Aisha nodded and grabbed her daughters hands and kissed it.

"Sweetheart, want to go to the ice cream shop near by?" Huda's eyes widened as she jumped up and hugged her mother.

"Yes yes yes! Can uncle Ibrahim come with us too?" I laughed and shook my head.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden." Aisha stood up and gave me a smile.

"You wouldn't be a burden at all Ibrahim." I smiled and cupped Huda's chin.

"Well, how could I say no to this little face? Fine. I'll come." Huda laughed while holding my hand and walking us both down the side walk.

***
"Uncle Ibrahim look! My balloon is flying away." She pouted her lips before looking up at me.

I sighed and chuckled. "Here you go sweetie. You can have mines."

As we walked to the house, my hands grew heavy. We bought bags of toys, ice cream, and candy for her from the near by shops. It took us one hour but it was well worth it.

"Oh Huda, you spilled the ice cream on your hijab." Aisha set the bags on the floor before fixing her daughters hijab.

I watched and grabbed her bags from the floor while holding mines. "Aisha, where are the keys? I need to put these bags in the house."

She quickly looked up at me in surprise before looking down. Then I realized my mistake.

"Oh, sorry. Mrs. Umar do you have the keys with you?"

"Aisha is fine Ibrahim, really. It just caught me off guard sorry. They're in my purse." She grabbed her purse and fished out her keys before tossing it to me.

I grabbed it with my free fingers and went to open the door when the fell and slide down towards the trash can.

I groan escaped me as I gently placed the items on the floor and went to grab the keys.

The keys slide down underneath the trash can, and as I went to pick it up something caught my eye.

A sliver color flashed before me and I frowned. I grabbed the keys and moved to get the item when I froze.

It was a knife streaked with a dark burgundy color across it. The handle had blood all over it, and a small drop of blood stained the ground beneath it.

I froze and watched it in horror. Slowly, I took the ice cream out of the bag and covered my hand with it before I slowly picked it up and tossed it in the bag.

I turned to Aisha who gave me a puzzled look. Her face scrunched up as she gazed at me with her menacing blue eyes.

"What's that?" I ignored her comment and made sure Huda wasn't around before I spoke.

"Aisha. Why is there a bloody knife here?"