Very sorry about the late update! I really had no intention of continuing the story, but I am hoping that you will forgive me (and my terrible mystery skills) and read the next chapter, Please please please let me know if you like this, so that I will want to keep going. So, in honor of the new episode of Sherlock, here is Chapter 4!

Sherlock looked at the map pinned against the wall. How did the fact that the alleged kidnapper was an arsonist help? What place would he be most likely to go to?

His usual focus was replaced by doubt and guilt. How could he let that happen to Molly? How could he have brought this down on her? Were his feelings clouding his judgment, making him go in the wrong direction? Was he missing something else entirely?

He held his head in his hands, closing his eyes. Focus.

He had figured this man was an experienced arsonist, and a fan of Sherlocks, probably since John had blogged about him. He was a stalker, and he didn't seem likely to be working with someone, with the ego and the fact that he probably spent an unhealthy amount of time working to fool Sherlock, which suggested he was a loner. He had to live close then, if he wanted to find his phone number and that he worked with Molly.

Also, if he was an arsonist, and had cold cases to brag about, the victims were most likely victims of unexplainable fires. Sherlock went to his computer and looked up said fires in London in the last ten years.

There had been twenty five, ten of them resulted in deaths. He looked at the firefighters that had tried to save them, five of the cases had a firefighter that had arrived inexplicably early, resulting in more being saved.

They were all the same person.

Jacob Rivers. Former firefighter, Let go two years ago for undisclosable reasons. He then moved to 358 Baker Street.

Sherlock smiled, "Gotcha."

Molly could barely move. She hadn't been fed or given water in almost 48 hours. Her breath came out in ragged gasps, and her arms were numb from being held behind her by rope for so long. her back and legs hurt from the uncomfortable metal chair.

The door opened with a screech and a bang, and Molly sat upright as she heard footsteps coming towards her.

"Well, looks like your little boyfriend has found out my secret. No matter. We'll just give him a call to tell him the stakes are being raised."

The bag was torn off, and Molly squinted her eyes shut at the blinding light. The sudden stimulus was disorienting her, and she felt sick.

The man dialed to get a hold of Sherlock, and then was answered, "I've been expecting you to call."

"You are very smart my friend, I applaud you. And it seems that you found the security camera as well?"

"Oh yes, brilliant hiding place by the way. Now, back to business. What did you want? I don't think you called just to compliment me."

"Just wanted to say," The man went to a closet by Molly, and pulled out a tank of petrol. "That since you have discovered my... talents," He started to pour the petrol around Molly's almost still form, "That it would be my pleasure to demonstrate them for you."

"..."

"Ah, speechless I see. Well thats good, because I'm not finished yet." He kept pouring until he stopped suddenly, "Oh how rude of me, you probably would like to talk to Molly, eh?" He put the can down and held the phone to her ear.

She could barely make a sound, "Sherlock... it's... " But he whisked the phone away before she could give him a clue. "Sounding a little faint, isn't she? Oooh, if you don't get to her soon... Well, I'll leave that to your imagination."

"What did you want to tell me?" Sherlock said fervently.

"So impatient, you don't enjoy anything Sherlock, you just analyze and analyze the moments away and wait for the next one to decipher. Could you just take a breather sometime?"

"Just tell me!"

"Oh alright since you're so anxious, I'll be setting fires all across London. Only one of them has your sweet sweet Molly in it. And you know that my fires can burn fast and hot. You'll have, oh, about an hour to find her. Good Luck."

He hung up the phone, smiling madly to himself. Molly raised her head as much as she could.

"He'll... find... me..."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." And he put the bag on her head again.