A/N Hello beautiful people! I will keep the chapters from this point on around the length of the last chapter, around 2000 words. Well, Somewhere in that range. Please leave a review, I don't bite. It would fill me with great joy if you do. :)
I had some problems publishing this chapter sorry...
"I have to see the body"
"Here she is, Katy Scott," Molly said as her fingers gripped the covering, easing it down to reveal the cut in her chest. She moved aside, leaving room for me to inspect the body closely.
"It's not true, is it? What they're saying about Greg?" Molly asked, her eyes lingering on me with hope.
"What are you saying?" I asked.
"It's all over the news. They're saying he killed her. Did Greg-" she said, looking over at each of us. Seeing the evident surprise in our expressions.
"No, he didn't. It's too early to say." I announced in my frustration.
Suppressing the urge to scream it out…
"Someone must have leaked the story. I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do." Cable replied.
" I'm sorry, who are you?" Molly said with a smile.
"Greg's not a killer," I interrupted, going over the evidence in my head in frustration. "John," I waved him over, my eyes still on the corpse. "Tell me what you see." He walked over still, making his annoyance evident.
"What is there to see, she's been stabbed. His eyes scanned the body, lingering on the deep cut before he heaved a low sigh. I gave him a questioning look, anticipating his response. He shrugged, throwing his hands up in defeat. With my gaze still on him, he spoke. "What? Do you think she was poisoned?"
"Was she?"
"No... just admit it, he killed her."
"Greg wouldn't hurt anyone. You all know that this isn't Greg."
" Alright, the knife, You want to deduce it?" He looked over at Cable, a questioning look on his face. "I'm sorry you are…."
"Cable," he answered with a chuckle.
"Right, Where's the knife?"
"That was part of the evidence that was tampered with it-"
" He took it? fantastic." John interrupted as he left the room.
"John, he didn't," I said, following him out the door. My words didn't seem to reach him, his steps quickening. "John trust me, I know Greg." He stopped abruptly, facing me with a raised eyebrow.
"You, know Greg?" He said in a mocking tone." Why didn't you tell me that killing was his new hobby? Wait, why am I asking you? You didn't even know about his divorce."
"I did know."
"No. ''John said, sucking in a breath to calm himself. " You were too busy solving cases to notice... As always," he breathed.
I paused, watching as he rubbed his brow, a scowl consuming his face.
"There was a tan line where his wedding ring used to be; It was missing," I said, grabbing John's attention. "I saw that his clothes were loose on him; I noticed everything."
"Why didn't you do anything? If you were there for him, maybe we wouldn't be here– that body, (he pointed) wouldn't be there!"
I felt every muscle in my body tightening, a sudden burst of anger rippling through me.
"Why didn't you!? You apparently know him better?" I barked. John stood there, taken aback. A dark smile curling on his lips that sent shivers down my spine."
" Unbelievable, ''John said, pacing on those words." Mary died Sherlock! She died, and Rosie needed me. You were too busy getting high and being a self-centered--"
"Sir?" A voice broke through, grabbing our attention. There Cable stood, his hand still latched on the door. I could see then my eyes landing on Molly, whose head peaked out of the small opening through the door; her brow knit in a worried expression.
"There's been another murder, they look connected. We're looking for a serial killer. Will you come, sir?"
I looked over at John, his burning gaze met mine, and in return, he dropped the argument. Letting out a shaky breath.
Stepping into the crime scene, I could still feel the pressure on my chest. The argument is still fresh on my mind, most likely still lingering in John's. While in my thoughts, I caught a familiar voice making me turn abruptly; to see none other than Sally Donovan. I can't believe it. I couldn't stop my lips as they curled into a smile. My legs betrayed me, leading me to her in my excitement. Upon seeing me, her shoulders dropped in relief.
"Sally?" I paused to my dismay, noticing Anderson by her side; both sharing my pleased expression for a brief moment.
"Sherlock, I couldn't get a hold of you," they need to interrogate you and John. Its been held back because of the incident it-"
"Greg, have you seen him? Has he made any contact with you?" I interrupted. Her head fell, making me almost drop-in despair. "Anderson," I pleaded. He shook his head. I became silent, allowing her to resume.
"We're not even supposed to be in this case, let alone you and John. There's been no sign of him, and things have become more complicated with the media sinking their teeth into this story. Please," she begged, her eyes showing no resentment towards me, no judgment."Tell me he's innocent."
I rubbed my fingers against the photo in my pocket, tightening my grip around it."I don't know," I breathed. Shifting my attention back to the crime scene; leaving them yearning for answers I couldn't provide.
I could see John in the distance, tugging his coat collar up as the cold air licked his neck. I saw that he knew, but he didn't confront me. Ignoring everyone and all of the surrounding vehicles. I stepped inside the building; John lingering in the distance, his footsteps echoing mine.
Once inside my eyes went straight towards the pictures. Photos of smiling loved ones and encouraging signs in every corner. Toys scattered throughout the glossy wooden floor. The victims were married, both stabbed in the chest. All made known to us by an anonymous call to Scotland yard.
"Where's the girl?" I Questioned, watching John's eyes land on the family portrait. The family was smiling with their little girl, who could be no older than six.
"Playdate, she wasn't harmed. Still, she'll be monitored during the investigation." Cable reported. "What have you gathered?"
"The murders look connected. Similar choice of weapon; all stabbed in the chest, All recently moved."
"Is that all, sir?"
"There's nothing more to mention," I mumbled, Cable closed his small book, giving me a questioning look. Contemplating something before, giving the gruesome scene one last look as he left. I lingered in front of the corpses, unable to understand anything. With every thought, I grew frustrated. It was only when a cool draft poured in, that made me realize; I was standing alone, caught up in my thoughts. Until I noticed out of the corner of my eye a patch of sandy hair: John.
He seemed fixated on the family portrait. His eyes stroked all of the portrait's contents, like a puzzle he couldn't comprehend.
"John?" I called out, but he didn't hear me. I hesitated before calling out to him again, his name on the tip of my tongue. Noticing that everyone had gathered what they needed, slowly leaving one by one; I couldn't leave John here. "John?" I cried out again. Finally, I placed my hand on his shoulder.
Startled by the sudden confrontation he flinched under my touch. His eyes met mine, but there was no anger in his expression.
"You coming?"
He stood there a moment, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. Finally giving me a reassuring nod as he walked ahead of me; out into the cold. As I turned to follow, I couldn't help but look at the photo one last time.
"Are you sure?" Sally, said. Gathering all she could from the grieving mother. "Your daughter never said anything?"
"No, she wouldn't do that to him. She wouldn't do that to their baby girl." She whimpered, wiping away her tears.
"Oh, you've been on and on about this Sally. I've told you, no one was having an affair."
"We can't just take your word for it."
"Why not."
"Sherlock," John said sternly.
"Sorry about that," Sally said, giving me a death glare.
"No no, it's alright. I'm glad to be of help if any. I hope you find who did this to my daughter and my son in law. God bless their souls, they were inseparable. Loved their daughter to bits. I don't know how I'll tell her; it'll break her heart," she sobbed.
"Thank you, you've helped us so much, but are you sure that your son in law had no family we could talk to?" Sally said, pushing the tissue box closer towards her.
"No, His parents died. Drunk driver, hit and run. They never did find the man.
"No friends or relatives?"
"My son in law never had any friends, no relatives as far as we knew. None of them came to the wedding even if he did. He was a loner that boy..."
Sally held a sympathetic look, lingering on her words.
"We need to talk to your granddaughter, '' I blurted out.
"Sherlock?" John scolded. The grieving woman became quiet, her sobs dying into weak sniffles.
"I'm afraid he's right mama, it would help us." Sally said reluctantly. John gave Sally a disapproving look before admitting defeat. His eyes wandering down to his feet.
"Do what you need," she sniffled.
The young girl came, her eyes wandering curiously around the integration room, before landing on each of us with a blank stare. Sally introduced herself, with a bright smile, trying to put her at ease. She looked at her surroundings again, turning in her chair with a blank look." What's wrong?" Sally asked.
"Where's my mom and dad? They don't know I'm here; Where are they?" I felt the lump forming in my throat. Fighting back the doubt, and the urge to add any more cresses to the photo in my pocket. Before Sally could respond, we were interrupted by the click of the door, turning back just in time to see John brushing against the exit before disappearing.
Sally and I exchanged confused looks before I dashed after him.
"John, where are you going?"
"Home Sherlock, I'm going home." He barked. Abruptly, he took off, disappearing from my field of vision. My eyes hovered over the crowd until the click of a shutting door grabbed my attention. I sprung out the exit, where the cold hit me, sending shivers down my spine.
"Go away sherlock– just go" He heaved a raspy breath, tangling himself in his words. I could see his figure shaking with each breath he took, but I was unable to read him, his back still facing me. It took me a moment to realize, he wasn't catching his breath; he was struggling to breathe. John's hyperventilating.
"John, look at me." I pulled him gently towards me. His eyes widened in fear as he tried to make sense of it all. "Sher-sherlock," he gasped.
"It's alright John, look at me, it's okay." His eyes met mine with an expression of sheer dread that made my stomach churn. Reassuring John of my movements, I reached out, gently taking his hand, placing it on my chest allowing him to feel each breath I took. "John, I want you to copy me." Breath in... breath out." I watched as John attempted to breathe, the struggle evident with each raspy breath.
"Can't," he choked, The rest of his words dying in his throat, he shook his head feverishly; tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Yes, you can. John, look at me." I pleaded until his eyes met mine. "You can," I grabbed his other hand, giving it a light squeeze.
After a couple of more tries, John's breathing was becoming more steady. "That's it, breath in...breath out." I encouraged, as each breath started coming naturally to him. His arm came down slowly to his side, giving me a reassuring nod. His weak and shaky figure stood before me, shivering.
Our eyes, lingering on each other in disbelief; John just had a panic attack...