The next morning Katie woke up alone in her bed. David had left her a message saying that Lestrade had called him in and that he would get back to her later.
She recalled last night and felt bad that she had no answer to his confession.
But she was not sure if she felt the same way about him. The last time she felt what it means to love a person was with Sherlock. She knew that sooner or later he would expect an answer from her, but she didn't know the answer. She moaned and brushed the hair out of her face.
Then she got up, put on her bathrobe and slurped into the bathroom. She wouldn't have to start in the lab until noon today, so she decided to take a long shower. She got dressed and made herself a coffee. Since the sun was shining outside, she decided to have her coffee on her roof terrace. She just wanted to quickly fetch the newspaper and her mail, which was always outside her door. She opened the door, picked up the newspaper and noticed an envelope with no sender on it. When she opened it, she froze and the coffee cup fell to the floor.
She looked incredulously at the contents of the envelope and had to blink several times to make sure it was real.
In her hands she held a newspaper clipping. It was entitled "Executioner - murderer sentenced to death" and was written in red next to it: You will bleed for this!
She did not know what was happening. Could it be? Had he found her? But the trial was over and he was executed a week ago. So who was it? And what was she supposed to do now?
She quickly picked up the shards, wiped the stain away before packing her bag and running out the door. She didn't know why but she suddenly found herself standing in front of this black door marked 221B. With trembling fingers she pressed the bell. After minutes when no one answered, she pressed another bell. It did not take long and the door opened.
"Hello? Oh it's you dear. Did you come to see me?" the elderly lady asked friendly as always.
"Hello Mrs Husdon. Well, actually I came to see Sherlock. But I don't think he'll be in. I'll just come back later," she said and was about to turn around.
"No, no. He's upstairs. He's probably just frozen the bell again. Wait, I'll take you to him." she stopped Katie and pulled her inside.
They didn't get far though, when a tall man with dark curls booted down the stairs and called out for Mrs Husdon. But when he saw Katie, he stopped.
"Katie? What are you doing here?" he asked in amazement.
Katie was nervous.
"I need your help," she said in a slightly shaky voice.
Why was she so nervous?
Sherlock didn't say anything, just turned to the side and indicated to her to come up.
Katie turned to the older lady, thanked her with a smile and then walked with a heavy step past Sherlock, up to his flat.
She stood nervously in the room, waiting for him to follow her.
After closing the door, he took a seat in his armchair. He made no attempt to offer her a seat.
"So, what can I do for you?" he asked afterwards and folded his hands under his chin.
Katie still stood frozen in place before taking a deep breath and then fished the envelope from her pocket. She watched Sherlock slowly approach his microscope on the kitchen table as she spoke.
"This is about Holden Bennett."
Sherlock, now staring into the lens, interrupted her.
"This serial killer from Chicago. He's dead. I read that he was executed last week. So what else is there?"
Katie was just about to continue talking when the ringing of his phone stopped her. He gestured to her to wait and then he took the call.
What was wrong with him? Why was he like that to her? Katie could not form an answer. It was a mistake to come here.
She then turned around, her head slightly lowered and spoke softly.
"Sorry to disturb you. I shouldn't have come over. Goodbye!" and stepped out the door.
She would have to find help somewhere else. With quick steps she went down the stairs and ran out the door.