Depressing statement: I don't own anything relating to Sherlock Holmes.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The young woman pounded on the wood that surrounded her closely. She clawed at it, trying to force it away. The attempts were useless, as the box that held her frail body was crushed under the pressure of earth. The girl gasped for oxygen, trying to save herself from the inevitable. When there was none left, her eyes dimmed and closed. Her body lay still inside the makeshift coffin, an unmarked grave now her place of domain. Above her, treading across the ground, was the man who had put her there. He hauled away his shovel, stowing it in the far corner of his beat down truck. He crawled into the cab and drove away from the site.
OoOo
''Three disappearances over the last two weeks.'' Lestrade said from behind his desk. On the other side stood Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. Lestrade flipped the photos around to show the two men the missing faces. John's eyes widened at the images.
''They all look similar.'' He said, looking at Greg, then to Sherlock. The consulting detective gazed at the photos carefully, his face straight and unmoving. Without looking up he began his deductions.
''The first one is a junkie. Her boyfriend called in the report, I take it. The second didn't have family to speak of. However, when she failed to show up for work the third day in a row, her employer grew worried. Finally, this latest victim. She is younger than the other two, despite her mature appearance. Her parents are in the lobby, silently arguing as to who's to blame. Divorced couple, then. This girl can't be more than 17. Am I right?" He asked at the end, looking to the inspector across the desk. Lestrade sighed, before nodding his head.
''Her parents came in about three hours ago. Apparently the girl was at some sort of camp in Brighton, and was due back on the train yesterday afternoon. The station in Brighton said she got on the train, even have her on camera boarding. Thing is, she never got off.'' He flipped forward the second girl's picture.
''This girl was last seen shopping in a local market about a week ago. She had gone into work that morning, and we have footage of her leaving her job after her shift ended. She went to a nearby market, and we lost track of her on CCTV after that. Gone, just like that.'' He looked perplexed at the third picture.
''I'm afraid to say we don't really hold out hope that she's still alive. Her disappearance was two weeks ago. Her boyfriend called in saying she had gone out for a film with her friends, and was due back home after. When she hadn't returned by the next day, he phoned us. We have no way of tracking where she went after the movie ended.'' He leaned back in his chair as he looked at the men in his office. Sherlock's mind was already stirring up the possible explanations. John merely looked at the photos, noting the similarities in their appearances.
Three beautiful young faces. All possessing flawless, pale skin. Each set of eyes a hazelnut brown. Their hair all a shade of light auburn. John felt that they each looked familiar to him, he couldn't place why. Sherlock simply nodded to Lestrade, agreeing to take on the case. He swiveled around, exiting the office. John scrambled to keep up with the talk man as he made his way over to the parents of the latest girl.
''She would've been fine if she had only stayed with the bus like I suggested.'' The father bit at the woman sitting next to him. She had tears in her eyes, and er face was contorted into a look of anger.
''She's 17, Tom, she is old enough to make her own choices, and she wanted to take the train back.'' The mother responded, bringing a tissue to her eyes. Both looked up to see a tall man swiftly approaching them. They both stood up to greet him, and the shorter man that trailed behind.
''Ah, Mr. And Mrs. Gaines, I'm terribly sorry to hear about what's happened.'' Sherlock said in a surprisingly human voice. The woman opened her mouth first.
''Actually, it's not Gaines, not anymore.'' She looked at the father with distaste.
''Of course it isn't.'' Sherlock said, his voice having returned to normal.
''I merely wanted to see how you presented yourselves to a stranger, I can see you are long past the reconciliation phase. Now, about your daughter...'' he began, before the man interjected.
''Listen, who are you? We just want our daughter back. We don't need some...some freak coming in here and wasting our time.'' He spat bitterly. Sherlock took in a deep breath through his nose, John new what was about to come.
''Tom Gaines, you work for the law firm in Soho. You now live with your girlfriend, who is also your secretary, and the primary source of your divorce. You have a nasty tendency to drink too much on the weekends. You also have a closet addiction to cocaine and pornography. You haven't had your customary cup of coffee this morning, leaving you a tad more irritable than usual, thus leading you to make irrational statements like the one you just said. My name is Sherlock Holmes, and believe me, it is MY time that you need to worry about wasting. So, I'd be careful about insulting the one person who can most potentially get your daughter back alive. Sound like a plan? Good.''
The man stood there, mouth tightly closed in a straight line. The woman looked back and forth between her ex husband and the detective.
''Now, please tell me everything you can about your daughter and her recent trip.''
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Well, chapter one. Hope you like it. Read and review, pretty please. Also, check out my other stuff. For those of you who liked The Sentiment Behind Pet Names, I did write an excerpt, in case some of you missed it. Thanks one and all!