Lestrade sat back in her armchair with a drink, pondering. She had done a good day's work at the yard; several con men and one murderer were now behind bars awaiting trial. She heard pacing with an occasional thump coming from the walker on the floor above her. That was Jessica's room.
Lately, Lestrade had noticed that Jessica was acting odd. She was being quieter than usual, which seemed abnormal to the detective.
Lestrade had known Jess as a little girl. She felt a sort of respect for her, often helping the woman get the bags she carried from her hoverchair, or off the walker she used. Resolving to speak with Holmes about her concerns, she got into her hovercar and headed to Baker Street.
"Lestrade, how good to see you!" said Watson said, smiling as he opened the front door and invited her in.
"You too, Watson. Is Holmes in?" she asked, fiddling with her badge. Watson affirmed that the detective was, and led her up to the study.
"Inspector, this is a surprise." remarked Holmes blandly, looking up from his reading as the pair entered.
"Hi, Holmes." She said, still fingering her badge. Holmes immediately noted the hint of concern in her greeting.
"Lestrade, what is the matter?" he asked, looking mildly alarmed to see his comrade troubled. Lestrade sighed and sat down, then began to speak.
"Do you remember Jessica?" she began, trying to find a place to start. Holmes thought carefully, and recalled a young woman from Lestrade's apartments that he'd been introduced to roughly a year ago.
"Yes, I remember her. The young lady with the guitar and walker, correct? Why do you ask?"
"Well I get the feeling that someone's causing problems for her. She's been acting like someone's after her." Lestrade stated firmly.
Holmes knew from experience that the general feeling of a woman was quite reliable, and Lestrade was probably right. He steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair.
"Does she live alone?" he asked.
"Yes." Lestrade told him. She didn't quite see what it might have to do with the case, but she answered him anyway.
"Do you know of her other friends?" he asked, sinking deeper into his seat.
"There's two that I know, one named Melissa, the other's called Sigerson."