I took a deep breath and waited for my eyes to stop stinging. I checked myself carefully, allowing myself to relax. Sherlock was looking out the window and John pinched the bridge of his nose, apparently embarrassed by his friends ignorance.
"I am so sorry about that-" John started.
"Please no. It was me," I interrupted. "Mr. Holmes was spot on. I just..." I paused. "The last time I saw him, he tried to kill my parents."
Sherlock was about to say something when there was a tap at the door. Mrs. Hudson came in and smiled at me. "Sherlock said you would be staying for a while, so I set up John's old room for you. Unless, of course, you and Sherlock..." she said thoughtfully.
"No, no, no Mrs. Hudson!" I exclaimed. I felt my cheeks go scarlet, embarrassed at the thought. "I'm just assisting."
I thought for a moment. 'John's old room' meant John was married and moved out. So he wouldn't be around as often as I had hoped. He gave me a grudging smile, more than likely guessing my thoughts.
"No. Mary is at home, so I can't be long today, but I came to check on him." John nodded at the skinny figure, framed by the bit of sun poking thought the clouds. "He texted me, saying there would be someone interesting around this morning."
"Well, I'm glad someone thinks I'm interesting besides my friends and co-workers," I smiled. "Alright, I'm going to go unpack a bit and get an idea of where everything is on this map." I stood and turned to the door.
"Before you go, you need a new identity, if I remember correctly," Sherlock interjected.
I sighed, rolling my eyes in disgust at myself. I wish that just once I could remember all the important, beginner's stuff. "That is true Mr. Holmes-"
I was interrupted with "Sherlock, please," from the owner of the name. "'Mr. Holmes' makes me sound ancient," he reminisced.
I snorted, which brought an odd look from John. I nearly reprimanded him for believing I was a refined lady. I am most of the time, but I always let it slip once in a while.
"Fine. Sherlock, that is correct. Any ideas?" I was never very good at this, which is why the council usually does it for me. (When I went to search for a chapter of Merlin's book [That will be explained later,] with Artemis Fowl, the members of the council thought it would be funny if I was to pose as Artemis's girlfriend. That meant I was with him all the time. Patch suggested that I should go dreamy-eyed every time he walked in the room. Of course that got him a bucket of ice water down his back later, but that is a different story...)
There was silence while the three of us thought of potential identities.
Suddenly, I snapped my fingers. "I've got it!" I exclaimed.
"What have you got?" John asked.
"How about one of your far off relatives, like second cousin, from the states. I found you listed as a distant cousin on a heritage website and since I had no immediate family in London for the summer, I came to you until I could make it on my own. My name, Jessica Snow. My age, 19."
John nodded."That will be perfect!"
"Thanks! What do you think Sherlock?"
"Reasonable." He said without any trace of emotion. "I will inform Mycroft of the new developments and see if he can scrounge up a passport and license for you."
I gave Sherlock a grateful look, then I decided I had better get my stuff organized in my new room. I said as much to the men and politely asked: "If you gentlemen will excuse me?"
John affirmed for the both of them. I went upstairs and unpacked, and was just beginning to look at the cab driver's map, when the door bell caught my attention. I heard Mrs. Hudson scurry to the door, and, moments later, quick steps up the stairs.
I decided that if Sherlock and John wanted help, they could ask for it, but I was not going to press being part of the team yet. I had just turned back to my map when...
"Jenny!" Sherlock's voice barked. I sighed and got up
"My name is Jessica. Jessica, Jess, or Jessie if you like." I stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him.
"Right." He looked into the space below my feet or a few moments, then seemed to wake up from a daydream. "There is someone here I'd like you to meet." He led me back into the living area of 221B. To my shocked surprise, Bailey stood in front of the couch, looking just as astounded as I felt!
"Bailey!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same!" she smirked. Then remembered protocol. (It is required that, when in a dimension, if you meet up with an operative that you may know, that you quote one of the many lines that you learn in training. These quotes can come from books, plays, movies, etc. This is to ensure that this person is who you think they are.) "Merry Christmas to him!"
"A merry Christmas indeed!" I replied in character, which was the angry wife of Bob Crachet. "I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind, and he'd better have a good appetite for it!" I grinned at her and we hugged warmly.
"You already know one another?" John asked. "And wasn't that from A Christmas Carol?"
"Yes and yes. We are best friends, actually!" I said, letting go to look at John.
Sherlock smirked. "I figured as much."
"Oh, really, Mr. Know-It-All!" Bailey challenged.
"Hey now," I said calmly. "Let's not go starting problems." I laid a hand on her shoulder.
"If I recall correctly Bailey," John intervened, " you brought us a case to solve, didn't you?"
"I did..." she drifted off, eyes still locked on Sherlock. " Lestrade asked for some help." She handed John an official police file folder.
"That's new." Sherlock replied sarcastically.
"Wait," I interjected, " Your working for Lestrade?"
She gave me a confused, then an apologetic look."Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot to mention it before. If it makes you feel better, I get to boss Donovan around a lot!"
I smiled, a surefire way to prove she was forgiven. She smiled back.
Sherlock coughed, suggesting to get on with it. Bailey explained the case carefully to the men. I stood near the window, taking notes.
"The girl's name is Leslie Alton, daughter of Allison and Patrick Alton, born June 21, 1994. She turned up missing a day ago when her mother tried to call her at work and was told by the manger that she had not come in. She had never missed a day of work for no reason, according to the parents. The mother then called the house, but no answer. A few hours later, her face shows up in a coffee shop security feed. She is with a white male, black hair, beard. Slight muscles, but nothing too hard to get away from if she tried." Bailey rolled her eyes in disgust. (Should I mention she is a black belt in karate?) "His hands are constantly around her waist until they sit, which he then keeps one hand under the table at all times."
"A gun." I say quietly.
"Anything else?" Sherlock asked.
"Not-" Bailey was interrupted by Richard Castle.
*You can lie like that? That is so cool!*
"You actually got him to record that for you?" I asked.
Bailey giggled and pulled out her phone. She did not need to answer. I already knew it was a yes.
Bailey's eyes went wide as she read the text. "Her credit card was used at the supermarket just down the road! If we hurry, we might find a lead!"
Before I knew it, we were in Bailey's patrol car, sirens on. When we were near the store, she turned them off,so that we wouldn't scare anyone inside. We cruised up to one of the open spot nearest the door. Sherlock was out of the car before we were parked. By the time we got in there, Sherlock had begun a game of twenty questions with the guy behind one of the counters. In my head I kept track of what questions he asked, while I was writing down what answers the man gave.
"Do you have security tapes?" Bailey asked.
The man nodded. "Of course! I can show you."
He led us back and showed us the footage. The first thing I noted was that the girl was tense. her shoulders were almost at her ears, her fists were clenched, and worry and fear were scrawled across her face. Her nerves started going haywire when she started tapping her leg with a finger. She glanced at the camera desperately. The gesture was familiar, almost like she was...
"Trying to send a message!" I said, realization shocking me. "Dr. Watson, you can read Morse code, correct?"
"Yes." He said, rather unsure as to what the point was.
"Can you read what she might be tapping?"
I handed him my notebook and he began writing. "d-a-l-e-c-o-s-m-e-n." he said as he wrote them down. "b-l-u-e-4-7-a"
I watched carefully. I glanced at Sherlock, who was typing on his phone. Bailey's eyes were fixed on John's writing.
"Dale Cosmen," Bailey whispered in horror "... He is one of the most notorious mob leaders here in the London!"
