Molly's POV

Molly was beaming over both ears. Sherlock had confessed to her a few minutes ago that he loved her. Really loved her and not just as a friend. And then, then he kissed her. It was just so beautiful. To feel his lips on hers. And to feel that passion.
Nonetheless, it hurt her too. She knew that it couldn't be forever.
In a few days, he would go back to London and she would stay in Ireland.
Even though he had asked her to come back with him, she had refused.
She had obligations here that she promised to fulfil. Perhaps she would return in a few years' time, after she had completed her student education, but now, now her life was here in Dunmore and Waterford. Roughly speaking, in Ireland.

And right now, the task was to catch the murderer of her friend Ida and her neighbours Mr Murphy and old Mrs Daly.
Patrick Fitzgerald could be an important step towards a solution. He wanted to talk to her. He was also the one who had sent these messages.

So while Molly was looking for him, this one question kept popping into her head.
'What if Sherlock was right?'

Sherlock said he had a bad feeling about it, but Molly insisted on seeing him anyway. He wouldn't let her go alone. She thought it was incredibly sweet of him and she was slowly getting used to this new side of her.

So Molly wandered through the long corridors of the house, thinking of Sherlock, looking for Patrick. She hoped it wasn't a trap and that she could be back with her love as soon as possible.

She found Patrick in the library in the middle part of the house. He was standing in front of a shelf, reading a book, when he suddenly heard her enter and turned around.

"Patrick?" she asked carefully and slowly approached.

"Hello Molly" he greeted her, then walked towards the door and closed it.

Molly slowly felt a little uncomfortable and gradually felt fear rising within her.

"Pat...rick, what did you want to tell me?" she stammered.

"Molly, I think I know who killed Ida and the others. And not only that. You will be next," he explained, now standing before her.

"O...okay, and who was it and why is that person coming after me now?" she asked and became more and more nervous.

"To explain this to you I'll have to go a little further," he said, taking a deep breath and then continued.
"Well, it's just that my family are not who they seem to be. My father had made a pretty stupid investment and now we are bankrupt. If we don't get some money soon, we'll have to get out of here and live on the streets. My mother then thought, if the election for mayor for our father's office should go wrong, then we needed a plan B. So without further ado, she paired Bridget with Kilian. You have to know that Kilian is filthy rich because of his family's family business, and that she's rolling in money.
Everything went exactly according to my mother's plan until Ida appeared on the scene. Kilian was immediately on fire for her. They began to meet secretly. You surely know that Kilian had an affair?"

Molly nodded and Patrick continued.

"So it is so. Bridget had got wind of it at some point. But not only that. Bridget herself was having an affair with a certain Callahan O' Kennedy.

"I know him. He's a student of mine in pathology," Molly interrupted him.

Patrick understood and with a nod he continued talking.

"But of course no one was allowed to know, especially not Kilian. Otherwise the whole plan of our mother would fail. So Bridget did not talk about his affair with Ida and she continued to meet secretly with Callahan. But at some point they became inattentive. Old Mrs. Daly caught them both one day on their regular walk through the woods and told me about it a little later. I confronted Bridget. What I would rather not have done..."

"Oh my God, are you trying to tell me that your sister is behind all these murders?" Molly then asked, completely startled, holding her hand in front of her mouth in shock.

"Yes Molly, I think so."

"But how do you know all this?" she then asked curiously.

"I happened to overhear a telephone conversation when she said that the autopsy report had to disappear. And then another one, in which a day, a time and a place was mentioned. As it soon turned out, it was the day Ida was run over by the car. The time and place matched perfectly. All I had to do was add it all up.

"And why am I in danger now?" she asked, but the question quickly answered itself.

"The file. Callahan saw that I had taken it from the archives. Did he?"

Patrick just nodded. Then he reached for her shoulders and looked at her forcefully.

"Molly. You need to get out of here right now. I don't know when and I don't know how but Bridget is out to get you.

Molly looked at him in disbelief and with big eyes. Then she had an idea.

"But Patrick, Officer Thomas is here. If we tell him everything now, he can arrest her," she suggested as she saw his confused expression.

"I have no hard evidence. He will not believe us"

Molly put on an encouraging smile.
"Don't worry. My companion is Sherlock Holmes. He is a great detective and is currently searching for incriminating material. I am sure he will find enough evidence. So come on!" she then said and held out her hand to him.

But at that very moment she heard a shot and a little later Patrick slowly collapsed. He tried to lean on a shelf, but it gave way and fell down on Patrick, who was now lying on the floor bleeding.

Then suddenly everything went black...

* * *

Molly woke up a short time later in a small room. Her head ached and she felt a warm fluid running down the back of her head. Just as she was about to grab the spot, she noticed that she couldn't. Her hands were tied to a chair behind her back.

"What have you done, you idiot! She's supposed to be dead!"

"I'm sorry, but she moved at the exact moment I pulled the trigger."

"Then why did you bring her here and tie her to the chair?"

"I was so panicked that someone might have heard the shot and was on their way to the library."

She slowly opened her eyes and could now see two people arguing in front of her.
Even though her eyes had to get used to the light a little, she quickly realised that it was Bridget and her student Callahan. Callahan was nervous and flailed wildly with the gun in his hand until Bridget snatched it away from him annoyed.
When she noticed that Molly was waking up, she finally turned to her.

"Ah Ms. Hooper. You know, you shouldn't have been snooping around here like this. You should have just left Dunnmore," she said in a threatening tone, playing with the gun in her hand.

"What...what do you mean? What...what are you going to do now?" Molly asked nervously. Her head was pounding.

"Arrrgh, what do I mean? Oh, don't act so stupid! I know for a fact that you and your little friend are investigating these "tragic accidents" more closely. And I know Patrick spoke to you. And now you also know that I, well, more likely we, are behind these "accidents"," said Bridget, gesticulating back and forth between her and Callahan with a hand gesture. Then she slowly walked towards Molly.

"You know, I was never held in high regard in my family. I was always the black sheep. It was always, "Oh Patrick is so smart. Patrick is so successful. We just love Patrick so... blah blah blah blah..." Her tone was condescending.
"There was nothing I could do to please them. But then, when my mother asked me to get closer to Kilian, to marry him so that our family wouldn't have to move out here and get money again, I saw my chance. I could finally prove that I was worth as much as Patrick.

"But you never loved Kilian, did you? You just wanted his money," Molly concluded. She had to stall somehow. She was sure Sherlock would be looking for her by now, after the shot was fired.

Bridget looked at her in amazement and laughed out loud.

"Of course I never loved him. I also knew about Kilian's little love affair with Ida. Arrgh, that Ida. That hobby snoop who always had to stick her nose into other people's things. Of course she had to get away.
But first I had to take care of old Mrs. Daly. She had caught me and Cal doing... well, you know what. It was all going to blow up if she couldn't keep her blabbermouth shut.
Thank God I saw my opportunity coming fast. You know, the old lady used to ask me for help with her insulin shots. With her shaky hands she couldn't do that any more. She knew that I had medical training. One day I just had to increase the dose. Afterwards I ran her a bath and waited a few minutes..."

"And why did you kill Mr Murphy?" Molly asked a little later and had to swallow hard after hearing how cold Bridget actually was.

"Oh, old Mr. Murphy. Did you know that the old man and Mrs. Daly were a couple. Cute when people find each other at such an old age too, isn't it?
Well, anyway, I couldn't take the chance that he might have found out about Mrs. Daly and then tell Kilian. I couldn't let that happen. So he had to leave too.
Ida was quite right. His mask was prepared. I had poked tiny little holes in it shortly before, so that the poison could penetrate.
Well, and why Ida had to die, you know that."
She finished her stories. Her tone was cold and emotionless.

"And why are you telling me all this?" Molly then asked, although she actually already knew the answer.

"Hmm, I don't really know," she said to herself and looked up into the air asking.
"But where you're going you won't be able to tell anyone else anyway," she screamed threateningly and finally pointed the gun at her.

"Poor, poor Molly. You simply shouldn't have come here. Now you have signed her death sentence," she said.

"So a few last words Ms Hooper?" she asked afterwards and then released the safety of the gun.

Obviously, Bridget was very familiar with the handling and use of firearms.
The finger, ready on the trigger. Just a few more seconds...

Molly couldn't say anything. Frozen, she looked into the barrel of the gun and prayed.
She wished that it was all just a bad nightmare and that she would wake up right away.
Her whole life passed her by. She thought of her friends at home. John, Greg and Mrs Husdon. Her little goddaughter Rosie, whose loving smile she would probably never see again.
Then her thoughts turned to Sherlock. The past years at his side without ever once getting the attention she longed for. Every single smile from him or every accidental touch. The kiss on her last evening in London. And her last moments together here in Dunmore. The way he held her in his strong arms when she was devastated. How caring he was when he showed up at her place in the middle of the night and how he told her he loved her.
Molly's heart took a short leap and feelings of happiness spread.
But they were soon saddened again by the sight of Bridget holding a gun pointed at her.
She had finally found her happiness and heard the long-awaited words from Sherlock's mouth. And that should be over by now?
Tears slowly flowed down her cheeks as she thought about it.

'I wish I'd never left London,' she thought desperately.

Then Bridget tightened her grip around the gun and was about to pull the trigger when suddenly-
a bang sounded in the next room.

Molly opened her eyes in horror. She hadn't even noticed that she had closed them.

She tried to turn around after the sound but because of her restraints she could not. Meanwhile, Bridget sent her boyfriend outside to check the cause of the noise.

A short time later, it shouted from the library that only one vase had fallen down.
Molly thought tense about how this could happen. There was nobody in the room except Patrick. But he was dead.
Unless?

And before she could finish her thought, she heard him. His voice, which was now very close and mocking her attacker?
She saw that Bridget was now pointing the gun at Sherlock. Panic and fear spread through her.

'No, please don't' pleaded Molly in her mind. She wanted to scream, to stop him but she couldn't. Only his name formed on her lips. She was paralysed. Only casually she saw that the gun was now pointed at her again.

And then suddenly a shot was fired. And everything around her went dark...