Chapter Eight
Spencer opened his eyes and yawned. When he stretched, the movement sent a sharp pain through his back. Suddenly, he remembered the events of the last… what was it, two nights now? He had lost count; being awoken for some reason or another every three hours had really been messing up his body clock.
He wondered how Holmes, Watson, and Riley were doing. Holmes and Watson. Spencer let out a small silent laugh, shaking his head. He still couldn't believe they were real. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 8:30.
Riley's parting words suddenly rang in his ears: We'll drop by at eight tomorrow if we find anything out. In fact, we'll drop by anyway. See you at eight tomorrow, Spence. A jolt of alarm coursed through him; the only thing that ever kept Riley from honoring a promise was injury or other harm. He would never forgive himself if he had sent Riley to her death… He shook his head firmly, repelling the unpleasant thought. She was probably just caught in traffic, or had another reason other than harm coming to her.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. "Com' 'n!" He shouted.
He was surprised to see the sturdy figure of Officer Brady enter the hospital room. But what really worried Spencer was the look in Brady's eyes. Eyes always told the truth. Even so, the next words out of Brady's mouth would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"She's missing."
(Pretend there is a line here, site is screwing up my formatting again.)
Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard was worried. Holmes and the Doctor had not been seen for two days now. He had just discovered they were missing that morning when he went by the insufferable detective's flat on Baker Street to (regrettably) ask for help on a matter. But neither the doctor nor the know-it-all detective was home. Their landlady, Mrs. Hudson, had informed Lestrade that neither had been seen for more than a day; she was beside herself with worry.
Now Lestrade was walking down the Thames, and he saw an urchin trying to rob a woman. One withering look from the Inspector sent him, sans any loot, away. It was then Lestrade's eye caught sight of the figure in the Thames trying, unsuccessfully, to keep two others afloat. Hesitating for only a moment, Lestrade took a deep breath and jumped in.
(What can I say? My lines aren't working. Just picture one here)
Spencer did not have to ask whom Officer Brady meant by his Usage of the pronoun. The moment that Brady had set foot in the room he had know that something had happened to Riley. At least she wasn't dead. Missing implied that there was still a chance, however slim, of her being found alive. Dead was final.
As if trying to finish before either of them lost their composure, Brady rapidly continued. "Firefighters called us to an abandoned shed off LBJ; the shed had burned down and they suspected arson. Officer Willow's car was found by the shed. The two people with her, Travis Price and… what was his name…" Brady suddenly snapped his fingers. "Dr. Kevin Young, that's his name! Dr. Young, Price, and Willow seem to have vanished without a trace. We have found the half-melted remains of a bullet, and we suspect foul play. I shall keep you informed, Wade." Without waiting for a reply, Brady turned on his heel and slowly closed the door to the room, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.
(Pretend there is a line here. You know the reason by now)
As soon as Lestrade reached the figures, he was shocked to recognize the struggling form of Dr. Watson. The doctor was dressed strangely, but that was not of imminent concern.
"Doctor!" Lestrade shouted.
"Lestrade!? Quick, you get the woman! I'll help Holmes!" Came Watson's gasping reply as the Doctor put one arm around his friend and started swimming towards the bank with the other.
The woman? Why is Sherlock Holmes in the Company of a Woman?! Lestrade thought as he grabbed the woman with one arm and started kicking with the other. He reached the bank of the Thames first. Hoisting the woman onto the bank, he went back to help the doctor. But the doctor, stubborn as ever, refused any help and managed to get Holmes onto the bank.
Checking to see that the detective was alright, he then moved on to the woman. Under Watson's gentle coaxing, soon she had coughed up a fair amount of the Thames. Suddenly Holmes stirred, leaving Lestrade to deal with the woman.
Coughing, the world's most annoying detective opened his eyes. As soon as they were halfway open, he looked around, eyes wide. "We're back," he breathed.
Back from where? Lestrade wondered.
"Not your most stunning deduction, Holmes," the doctor said, oblivious to Holmes' glare.
Holmes suddenly noticed Lestrade, and his shoulders slumped. "Rescued by a Yarder; I'll never live this down!"
Lestrade was mildly offended.
"Don't worry, Holmes. He helped Officer Willow. I got you," the doctor reassured Holmes.
"Good," Holmes muttered, closing his eyes.
Lestrade ignored that barb and hailed a cab.