Water dripped on the window pane of Adeline's office, the water forming small webs on the glass. A loud sigh was emitted from the psychologist's throat, waiting for a patient who was late. Again. It was no use waiting more than an hour, the newest patient she had was irritable and forgetful to say the least. A woman with an addiction to alcohol that refused to be diagnosed or treated by real doctors.
Hopeless, like Adeline herself. But that's why she had taken her on. The psychologist's medium-pallor skin and dark clothes was in immediate contrast from the landline phone she picked up. Dialing the front office, her patience was starting to ware thin. "Front desk."
"Yes, Lillian could you please tell me if Mrs. Staunton is waiting for me?"
"Sorry love, looks like she decided to skip again."
"Please alert the court that she has skipped three mandated sessions in a row. I'm tired of being nice."
"Yes ma'am," The receptionist hung up and Adeline set down her phone, this was the last session. Now meaning she could clear up her notes and leave.
"Yes... that's her." The morgue is definitely freezing, only adding to the all around crappy mood that Adeline was in. Mrs. Staunton's face contained hives, warping it in such a way that made the old lady very unrecognizable. Purple and blue bruises "Bees." She looked up at the mousy pathologist across from her. It was clear that the woman hadn't done the autopsy yet. No stitches, no incisions. They had just found her.
"What?" The woman asked. Her voice was timid and shaky. "She had an allergy to bees. Yes there is obvious signs of struggle, but the hives... the hives and swelling had to have been from bees."
The door opened as Adeline returned to her normal standing position. "Molly." A baritone voice said. The pathologist smiled shyly. Great, a schoolgirl crush. Adeline turned on her heels, her eyes having to travel up a little bit to see the man's face. Calling him tall would've been an overstatement. Compared to his friend, he was almost a giant. Dark curly hair and pale cheekbones was the simplest way to describe him. His eyes were an odd mixture between green and an icy blue, adding to the over intellectual and superior air about him.
His friend, however, lead to some normalcy to the mix. The other man was a bit shorter than Adeline herself with blondish grey hair and a look that made him look like he could be kind and consoling one minute and possibly rip someone's head off the next. This made him military, most likely Afghanistan or Iraq. Both of their faces were familiar.
"Sherlock Holmes," and that's when the name was put to the face. He sounded a bit irritated as he stepped around her to study the body.
"She was allergic to bees." The imminent feeling of being looked over had taken over. "Self-evident." He replied. There was an awkward silence; Molly, John, and Adeline just standing in the morgue. She stalked over to the other side of the body, "And I gather you also managed to figure out that I'm her psychologist and she doesn't have any living family left?"
"I also deduced your past drug abuse that lead you to have such success at your job, making it easier for you to relate to your patients... but that's irrelevant. So if you excuse me, I have a corpse to get back to."
"Okay, um... sorry." John intervened. Adeline shook her head, the tremors of laughter on her breath. "That's brilliant. And if you're wondering why she has certain bruises on her skin, it's most likely because one of her neighbors had hit her the other day. Mrs. Staunton's skin was sensitive from both alcoholic tendencies and thrombocytopenia. She had a total of twelve people that legitimately hated her, after all she was very rowdy and rude. The woman was getting court mandated to see me. Drinking was her best friend but no one else was. Frankly she was a burden, the only person who cared for her was her son." Sherlock stared at her for a minute.
"I'm going to need a list of her contacts and people you think could have been involved." He was out the doors quicker than she thought possible.