YAY!
ANOTHER REVIEW!
That means 4!
Can I get five?
Anyway, here's chapter 3 because I've written up to chapter 6 right now and I have something big planed.
-New York City, New York-
"Watson!" Sherlock yelled, pounding on Joan's bedroom door.
She swung the door open. "Sherlock! What are you doing!? It's Saturday!"
"And?"
"Well most people don't work on Saturdays."
"You work everyday," he pointed out.
She bit her lip. "That's different."
"Not really."
Joan rolled her eyes. There was really no sense in arguing with him. "Well then."
He turned around. "You should probably get dresses instead of just standing there."
She looked confused. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to Wayne Phillips's place of employment." He grabbed his coat.
"Why would you possibly need to go there?" Joan asked.
"To understand his relationships with his co-workers, of course," he said as if it was highly obvious.
"Right, of course." With a sigh, Joan went back into her room to get dressed.
~Wayne Phillips's Place Of Business~
The woman had a look of unease on her face as Holmes and Watson walked over to her desk. "I assume you're here to ask me about Wayne," she started. "Tim told me what happened. I just can't believe that someone would want to murder him. He-"
"Wait. Who is Tim?" Sherlock asked. No one had ever publicized the fact that Phillips was murdered.
"He was one of Wayne's friends. Why...?" the woman said nervously.
"Is he in today by any chance?"
"No," the woman replied. "If you think he did it, you're wrong. Those two were closer than brothers. Tim sounded scared out of his mind just talking about it."
"Well then, how did Mr. Phillips get along with everyone else here?"
The woman smiled. "He was a great boss. Liked to keep things friendly between everyone at the office."
"Is there anything that would make someone not like him?" Sherlock asked.
She thought about the question for a moment. "He was big on the truth. Frankness. And sometimes that would get him in trouble."
He nodded. "I'll need his files."
"Sure. Anything to catch whoever did this."
~11 pm~
Sherlock sat in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by papers and manila folders.
Joan walked over to him. "Why are you still up?"
"Because none of it makes sense. There is absolutely no one under the employment of Phillips by the name of Tim. No one."
"Well maybe something will come to you in a dream," she suggested.
"Not very likely."
Joan started to pick up the files. "Try it anyway."
He paused. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
She smiled. "Good."
Sherlock got up and made his way to his bedroom. "Good night, Watson."
"Good night, Sherlock."
He layed in his bed, thinking abut the case, unable to get to sleep. As he layed there thinking, he felt himself slowly grow more and more tired. About 20 minutes later, he finally started to drift off.
Ring! Ring!
He groaned and felt around for his cell phone. "Holmes," he answered.
"Hello?" came a small voice.
"Who is this?" Sherlock asked, glancing at the caller I.D. He didn't recognize the number.
"Mommy said you're finding out what happened to my daddy. Is that true?"
"It is," Sherlock said evenly, remembering how Phillips had a daughter. Cleo.
"Will you catch the man who killed him?" Cleo asked.
"I can try," he replied.
"No, you have to promise."
He smiled lightly at this. "Alright," he said. "I promise."
Okay, first of all, I cannot even describe how angry I was with the episode last night. That little piece at the end messes up ALL my plans. So I guess if I can't find a way to work that in there, this would be classified as 'AU'. I think.
~Delila Jules
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